Friday, August 24, 2018

Sight

Just when you think you’ve seen it all (and thanks to upper air aloft, you actually could see, for the first time in days, all the way from the West Seattle superfund site park to the downtown Seattle skyline), you witness the absolutely unprecedented experience (at least in your own experience) of being denied service at of all places, one of the diviest of dive bars; so what else is there to do but take it as a sign that the bridge should be crossed before further shenanigans occur; the result being, after a look-see at a potential new haunt, you find yourself observing the most familiar of walls, one with mirrors on them, to boot, gazing on that very reflection you’ve reflected upon all of your born days.

I mean sure, a person’s going to be a little tipsy after sharing the traditional twelve-pack at the traditional nut-punching platform above the Duwamish, and yes, I’ll admit that a guy might stumble a bit after hopping off his bike and wandering into a watering hole that requires navigating around a person with a microphone belting out their favorite country music tune, but it’s hard (entirely opaque, honestly) to see what the bartender saw to make it impossible to order even a Coca-Cola, but who knows what they might have been eyeing?  Maybe she just doesn’t like your face or perhaps it’s the new short hairdo.

In any case, it was hardly a blot on an otherwise fine night for observing (and breathing); an almost full moon rising over the industrial wasteland was its standard issue yellow as opposed to “new normal” red, blue sky was visible behind wispy cirrus clouds, and three, count ‘em three! Ryans outnumbered just a pair of Kevins on the way out of Westlake.

So all’s well that ends well, I guess, and besides, it does mean you get to watch the birthday girl drink a mai-tai, a sight, clearly, never to miss!

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