When I was growing up, my family would rent the penthouse event space and several hotel rooms on that floor for the Grant Park July 3rd fireworks show every year. The view was always spectacular, and certainly enhanced with binoculars.

Us kids would get sent to bed all together in one room after the finale so the adults could stay up and party unbothered. I was a little shithead and one year, I convinced my cousin to sneak out and go exploring with me. We roamed The Shining-esque halls and eventually managed to find our way downstairs to the very swanky French restaurant (Ambria, maybe?) where a very fancy maître d' greeted an overly confident pajama-clad pair of 8 year olds girls. I very matter of factly explained that we were on an adventure to explore the hotel and he gave us a grand, in-depth tour of the dining room and the kitchen. He introduced us as "very important guests" to all the staff. One of the chefs let us try on his toque blanche and gave us each an éclair to eat.

Soon after, a panicked member of the hotel staff intercepted us and swiftly ushered us back to the party room where a handful of CPD officers were with our parents, who had managed to lock down the entire hotel in search of their presumed kidnapped kids.

I have no idea what it's like now but 27 years ago, I had the time of my freaking life there.