You should never judge a book by its cover (unless that books cover has, like, dancing unicorns and rainbows and such, or a swooning woman looking earnestly out a large bay window at a handsome, sweating gardener. Then by all means, judge away).
The CTA has been around for donkeys, and yet only the tiniest clutch of people are privy to its stunning secret . . . .
Built for the traveling businessmen of yesteryear, for all intents and purposes the CTA is a really dated, underground RSL - bistro, bar, etc. But sign in with the woman at the tiny front desk in the even tinier front room, then get the James Bond-like elevator down below terra firma and you'll find the prize: the red velvet porno lounge. Awash with crimson leather lounges. Resplendent with plush carmine walls. It's like hanging out at Dirk Diggler's living room, the kind of place where pants aren't optional but should be.
What's the porno lounge doing there? Search me. It makes no sense at all. But this is prime date territory. Your partner won't know what hit them - feel free to use this information any way you see fit. read more