Year: 2004

Here are a few more photos, all taken yesterday.

A cashier whispers silent calculations to herself as she counts change into her cash drawer. She looks straight ahead, at a point past my right shoulder. She finishes counting and focuses on me. Her eyes are the same color as her dress.

She’s enthusiastic about everything I say to her. I give all the right answers. I say, “I’ll have English Breakfast tea,” and she says that’s “perfect”. The chocolate chip cookie with apricot pieces is “awesome”. She’s happy that everything is working out so well.

To her coworker, she says, “Is that the water for his tea?”

“Uh huh.”

“Cool!”

One time, five or six years ago, Scott and I headed out to Discovery Park on his motorcycle. We were rolling down the hill into Ballard when we realized that neither of us knew where the park was. There was a group of people milling around on a lawn up ahead, so we pulled over near them. It was a group of teenagers packing up a church yard sale. A few of them wandered over.

Scott yelled out to them over the engine sound, “Do you know how to get to Discovery Park?”

“Wow. You’re way off,” one of them laughed. He stepped up alongside us and started describing how to get there. The others stood a few paces back, looked at us curiously, and whispered between themselves.

We worked out where the park was – we were on the wrong side of Lake Union – and were about to leave, when two of the kids who’d been looking at us earlier stepped up to the motorcycle and slipped a windscreen into a slot in front of the handlebars. It was from their unsold inventory and it fit perfectly.

We thanked them and Scott started to maneuver into a U-turn. The guy who’d given us the directions called out, “So where are you from?”

I laughed and called out the name of our Seattle neighborhood, “Capitol Hill!”

His dry response: “Well no wonder you got lost.”

The Fremont Lenin had a sort of crown of thorns and a new decoration for his hat this weekend.

Broadway

After an afternoon spent shuffling through tax papers, leaving forms behind at copy shops, and getting stuck in traffic. I decided to unwindwith a cup of tea at Bauhaus. It’s such a nice day.

Just as I walked inside, there was a quick motion in my peripheral vision. A woman shouted, “Get him! He took my purse!” I hesitated. A couple of guys dodged out the door and into traffic. My brain had to actually process the word “chase” before I could run after them. I followed them up Melrose and then right – behind The Chapel bar. I ran up the alley and saw, twenty feet ahead of me, a barista pull the thief down. (How did he get around the counter so fast?) Another guy grabbed hold and the thief stopped struggling. They sat on him calmly. I stood back catching my breath and shaking from adreneline and nerves. I eventually realized it would be a good idea to call the police. I answered the dispatchers questions, pacing back and forth between the alley and the street, looking for the address and then the purse snatchers description. The victim walked up and someone handed her the purse. She stood off to the side, holding the purse close. The police pulled up. They looked everyone over, and one of them asked the victim if she was a friend of the thief. The purse snatcher and captors untangled themselves. The thief stood up, and I realized that his haircut and clothes didn’t match my description of him. His shaved head was bleached blonde locks. His jeans were sweatpants. His t-shirt was long-sleeved. I walked back to Bauhaus, accepted a free cup of tea, which clattered in its saucer as I carried it to my table.

I’ve seen this bird before.

Alright then. It seems that I’m beginning to recognize individual birds… I’ve either been spending too much time with the birds at the store, or I’ve been hanging out at the waterfront too much.

An exciting-looking dark purple cloud out past The Sound rises up in the west and then pushes itself inland. By the time I’ve dropped Samantha off at work and found a parking space up here, it’s reached out almost to the other horizon. From underneath, that cloud looks suspiciously like a drab gray sky.

Update: (The clouds were burned away quickly enough.)

On Saturday someone walked up and down Broadway labeling some of the people and things that were found on the sidewalk.

Earlier in the week I saw this group. They had chosen their own label. Presumably they were protesting something. They just weren’t letting on exactly what it was.