So, after a call from Emily, I spend a little time at the Starbucks before playing the role of the corner hooker. It turns out that this particular Starbucks is known as the Gaybucks. It's supposedly a huge gay hookup joint, and the first Starbucks in the country to serve beer and wine. I can honestly say that I am more than a little disappointed to not get hit on, smiled at, or flirted with in any way. Must be all the sweat I had collected on the walk to get here.
Gaybucks or not, this place is amazing. It's the largest Starbucks I've ever been to, with a bar, a fireplace, an amazing array of seating, plus the balcony that stretches around half of the building. For those cold Seattle nights, there's even an outdoor fireplace/firepit for the patrons. Wish we had one of these in South Bend.
There's a guy sitting across from me on the balcony who's gone so gay, he's twisted all the way over to looking and acting like a lesbian. I didn't know that was possible, but he's total proof. I would totally try to take his picture, but I don't want him to get the wrong idea, and if I tell him I'm doing it for science, I'm sure he won't understand.
The threesome sitting next to me just arrived a few minutes ago. The solitary guy and one of the girls know each other, but the guy insists that he's never met the other girl nor does he know her name. She's getting increasingly pissed at him, insisting that they've met each other four or five times now. She's currently listing facts about him and his life to which he's continuing to deny knowing her, that she only knows those things through the other girl. They are no longer talking to one another anymore. The girl is downing her beer really quickly.
I pack up and head back outside through the building. I stand on the corner, feeling like a street walker waiting for a John. My John happens to be Emily, who arrives very quickly. We head out to a pizza place on the shores of Lake Washington.
The Independent Pizzeria is a quaint little place, seemingly run by former droogs. They all look like they stepped out of the Nirvana/Punk music exhibit from earlier today. They're all amazingly nice and super friendly. The place has only about six tables, plus a couch. The menu is simple - pizza, salad, antipasto, beer, wine, and soft drinks. Best of all, they have root beer on tap. Oh yeah, baby!
Like the true heifers we are, Emily and I scarf down one pizza each, plus a giant salad each, and two mugs of ice cream. The pizzas were so good, and despite feeling full and fat, I just kept eating until mine was all gone. I even ate one of Emily's pieces. The root beer was delicious and all of the drinks were served in canning jars. BTW - the Salted Caramel ice cream they served us is fan-bloody-tastic.
After dinner, we walk along the shore of the lake for a bit, then take a driving tour of Capitol Hill, Emily's neighborhood. If I lived in Seattle, this is the neighborhood for me - no question. Artsy, small shops line the streets, people of every color, creed, and orientation walk the streets, and the smell in the air is a combination of tolerance, acceptance, and fine food. Emily shows me some of the highlights of the area, including a bar we'll visit tomorrow and an ice cream shop called Molly Moo's that is never without a line that extends down the street.
We decide to spend the rest of the evening at Emily's pad. Her sister and brother-in-law are great people - so nice and so friendly. Emily's sister, Amanda, does a birth chart for me. I discover a lot of things about myself - things I've always known, but that I never had vocalized before. There are a lot of planet names and astrology signs being tossed around - Cancer Moon, Venus Virgo, Virgo Ascending, etc.
The cat sensed that a reading was going on and that I was a Leo. He sat in my lap the whole time. I did not touch him or allow him near my face, so I was fine (in terms of allergies). Felines - we stick together. Unfortunately, I'm allergic to my own sign.
It's after 1 A.M. now. I need to sleep. I also need to make some plans for tomorrow. Whatever is a solitary male tourist from the Midwest to do alone in Seattle on a gorgeous sunny day in the 70s? I'm sure I'll think of something. :)
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