Zombies and Wizards

Zombie movies scare the crap out of me. Zombies themselves make me sick. Literally being a zombie on the third day of Discover Chicago was unavoidable. I feebly lifted my frappucino up to my mouth, wishing the bottle would just spawn arms and punch me awake. I made a gurgle reminiscent of Chewbacca as the drink crawled down my throat. I'm not a coffee guy. I'm not even a toffee guy. In fact, the concept of a coffee shop scares me more than zombies. I get scared easily, probably because my mother was overprotective. IT'S HER FAULT NOT MINE. Ahem. The low blare of a trombone washed over my group, heightening our senses from dead to barely alive. Soon after, a full band joined in, and music filled Lincoln Park. My undead cronies and I were watching convocation, a ceremony in which the Depaul faculty walk all around campus wearing robes and funny hats. Sadly, no spells were casted, but we smiled and clapped anyway. After a brief lunch, we headed down town to the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. From our view of the exchange floor, we could see hundreds of balding men frantically shouting at one another to make dat profit. The commotion was intriguing, but the volume reminded me of a chicken coop. Although, the hand signals were quite impressive.

Petrificus Totalus!

 Strangely enough, the only thought that really stuck with me was sympathy for the janitor who had to clean up all the trade papers left on the floor. Poor guy.