I’m really tall for a girl–6’1″–and my college roommate Kari is too. We both have dark hair, and people mistake us for sisters, sometimes twins. She’s a stay-at-home mom with two kids, so when she came to visit me for the weekend I was expecting a kinda low-key, early evening. Then Kari suggested we go to Rush Street. We started out with a group of eight, but our two cabs got separated, and the other cab ended up I don’t know where. Kari and I were with this married couple. The wife suggested that we go to every bar we saw and have a drink at each place. At one place we ended up dancing on the bar. Every place we went, people thought we were twins and bought us drinks. After maybe four bars, the married couple decided that they wanted to go home. We dropped them off, and all of a sudden my friend gets a wild and crazy look in her eye and says, “We’re going dancing.” So at 3:30 in the morning we came to Club 720, and it was this absolutely great Latino dance music. We towered above everybody, but before you know it all these men were going “Baila, baila!”–“Dance with me, dance with me!”–and we were being spun all around the dance floor. We went home at 5:30 in the morning, feeling like the Chicago version of the Banger Sisters.

–Amy Thoeming, anesthetist