I wake up around 8, a bit bleary eyed but ready to see the city. Since Greg & Joanne don’t drink coffee (huh?) I walk down to town and find a nice place called Zoka Coffee. I order a latte and enjoy it at a barstool by the window, observing the goings-on of Kirkland, WA. I finish my beverage and order a black coffee to-go and decide to wander around a bit. I know I’m close to the shores of Lake Washington but don’t know which direction. I vow to not look at my phone and see if I can stumble onto it.
After starting off in the completely wrong direction I eventually make it to the water. The weather is perfect and I start walking down the shore to the south, in the general direction of Seattle. I’m not really going anywhere just enjoying the day. About a mile into the walk I see a deserted parking garage and remember the devils lettuce in my jacket. Pot is recreationally legal in Washington state, but it’s only for private enjoyment: "it is illegal to consume marijuana in view of the public." The Washington State Liquor and Cannabis Board's website actually says that. So I scoot into the parking garage to less overtly break the law.
I do some pot in a dark corner of the garage and continue on my walk. It doesn't take long for the mind altering substance to start altering. I don't quite reach the oh-my-god-this-is-forever level of high but I inch right up to the line. My legs feel hollow. I float for a few minutes until that sensation turns into uncontrollable giggling. I can’t imagine what the denizens of Kirkland - innocently going about their business on a Thursday morning - must have thought seeing Stepfather John Misty walking down the sidewalk laughing to himself about nothing and everything all at once. This is fun.
I come to a big intersection, which suggests to me I’m probably close to the northerly bridge across Lake Washington that heads towards Seattle. I hang a right and head up a bike path that runs along the highway. It’s a slightly sloping hill but it slightly slopes for about a mile, which causes me to work up quite a sweat. I strip off my jacket and notice lush, green area just ahead. Let's go poke around in there. I saunter into the Weatherill Nature Preserve and it’s so dense with vegetation that the only indication that you’re anywhere near human civilization is the din of cars on the highway, which is reduced to a faint buzz as I go deeper.
I wander through the trails, gazing up at the Western Hemlock, Red Cedar, and moss covered maples. The birds are chirping full throat, likely rejoicing in the coming of spring. I find a nice big secluded tree and after confirming there was nobody nearby, take a quick leak. That’s probably frowned upon but I really had to go and I saw a dog do it.
I walk through the trails a bit more and find a bench that looks like it’d be a fine place to partake in some more narcotics. I scan the area again to confirm there’s no one around and take another rip of my marijuana cigarette, which is also probably frowned upon but I really wanted some pot and I saw a dog do it…. Wait… How high am I…
The herb really enhances the experience, it’s like nature’s spice. After strolling about a few more minutes I find myself back out at the bike path. I know there is a train station on the other side of the lake at the University of Washington that could take me into Seattle. I finally cave and pull out my phone to see how far it is across the bridge. 4 miles to the train station and I’ve already walked 6. If I hadn’t stayed up till 3 in the morning the night before or had some better shoes strapped to my stupid feet (a big blunder but I didn’t plan on walking 10 miles when I left the house that morning) I would probably keep hoofing it to the train. As it is I capitulate and order a Lyft to the Pike Place market.
I don’t know too much about Seattle but during sporting events they always make sure to show a shot of guys hucking fish to each other at a market, à la shots of Niagara Falls or piles of saucy wings for Bills games. I assume the Allen-to-Diggs fish connection happens at Pike Place so that’s where I’m headed. My bar for entertainment is quite low it would seem, I’m excited to go watch guys throw fish to each other.
About 20 minutes later my driver drops me off at the market and good lord what a tourist hellscape this place is. I assumed it was going to be a big open air fish market but it’s a multi-leveled bazaar of small fish markets, tchotchke shops, and an outrageously large number of people selling tulips. I walk around a bit to see if I can see any airborne aquatic vertebrates but no luck. I pop open my phone to see if there are any restaurants in this place that are actually worth a damn and it leads me to a place called Matt’s in the Market. It’s kind of confusing to find but I finally stroll into the 3rd floor eatery around 2:15.
I order a pFriem IPA (which Matt misspelled as fPriem on the menu) but the waiter tells me that their keg system is on the fritz so no beers at the moment. I audible to a Bensonhurst, a riff on the Manhattan made with rye whiskey, dry vermouth, Cynar, and Luxardo Maraschino. I add to that cup of tomato soup and an albacore tuna sandwich. The cocktail comes out in short order and it is exactly what I needed to wet my whistle after a 6 mile ramble. The soup and sandwich are excellent as well and I am pleased with my phone's recommendation. I settle up and Joanne informs me that she snagged a 6:45 reservation at Elliott’s Oyster House, about a 5 minute walk away. I had been planning to wander around some other areas and maybe up to the Space Needle but that timetable’s too tight to do much more exploring. Maybe there are some Pike Place adjacent joints that aren’t in the full on melee.
As I’m leaving Matt’s I get a hankerin for some ice cream & find a great little spot a few blocks away called Bottega Italiana Gelato. I order a small half coconut, half mint chocolate chip and it absolutely hits the spot. I meander through some streets as I eat my delicious frozen treat and get the news from my cousin Holly that our cousin Mike has just gotten engaged. Oh how fun! I give Mike a call to express my congratulations and it apparent that he’s been celebrating for some time now. He’s in unbelievable spirits and gives me a boost of energy just talking to him. Good on ya Mike.
I keep walking around and stumble down an alley with an “attraction” called the Gum Wall. This is truly a disgusting spectacle - thousands of pieces of chewed gum stuck to the walls of a dingy alley. Why anybody would go out of their way to see this is beyond me. Apparently in 2015 the Pike Place Market Preservation & Development Authority (can you imagine how fun they must be at parties) decided to scrape the gum off to clean the walls. No surprise that these animals started adhering gum to the walls shortly after the cleaning crews left.
Fully revulsed, I stumble into the Seattle Beer Company. Sounds like my kinda place. I order an Urban Family Brewing Company Passageway Raspberry Sour and plop down at a table that has a detailed map of the Seattle Sound. I stare at the map for as long as it takes me to enjoy my beer and I’m off again. I have about an hour till dinner, no reason to not have another ale or two.
I find my way to the Pike Brewing Company, which is decorated wall to wall with old timey memorabilia, rusty metal antique signs, and even some bicycles hanging from the rafters, which is actually kinda cool and not completely kitschy like places that do that typically are. I slurp down a Cosmic Pulp Hazy IPA then head back up to the bar for another brewski. Right as I’m about to order a song comes on and the bartender about loses his mind.
“Robby! Robby! Are you hearing this!!?”
Robby, a coworker across the room, walks over, “uhhh yeah”
“Can you believe this shit!!?”
Robby looks like he certainly can believe this shit but unconvincingly lies to his frenzied colleague, who really didn’t care what Robby thought, he just wanted someone to shout at.
“Listen to this song! Come ON! It’s a COMPLETE ripoff of ‘Cornflake Girl’ by Tori Amos!! Actually it’s not even a ripoff, they just stole the song! Listen listen! what the fuck!!”
Robby nods, listens for a bit, and gives the bartender a masterfully apathetic “yeah, you can really hear it in the chord progression.”
This seems to appease the bartender who agrees with Robby, the chord progression IS the most egregious theft of Mrs Amos’s intellectual property.
At this point I’m willing to join as the second member of the Tori A+ Amos #1 Fanclub if it gets me another beer. I’m sure big T has some fine, fine work but wouldn’t even know “Cornflake Girl” if I heard it right now.. although I’d reckon it sounds an awful lot like this song. Eventually ol boy calms down just enough to pour me a Pike Place Ale and I dart back to my table before another song comes on to rile him up.
I find out via Shazam that the song is “You Don’t Understand Me” by the Raconteurs and shrugged my shoulders so hard I nearly pulled a muscle. I finish up my beer about 5 minutes before our reservation and make the short walk to Elliott’s where Greg & Jo are already seated at a table by the window, likely discussing the groundbreaking chord progressions of Tori Amos.
I tell them about my day of ramblin around and we order a bottle of wine. I peruse the menu and see they have an extensive oyster selection. Makes sense that Elliott Oyster House would have some oysters. I tell our waitress I’d like to start with 6 oysters, chef’s choice, then the halibut for my main course. The oysters come out and I am salivating. I work my way through the selection, savoring the gooey flesh and brine of these west coast jewels. Two of the bivalves are bit too big and beefy for my taste but the other 4 are phenomenal. The Eagle Rock from Totten Island is especially notable. The halibut arrives, rested atop a bed of polenta and blistered balsamic tomatoes. I dig in and by god is it delicious. If I was at a more laid back place like the Timberline I might have licked my plate clean.
Greg & Joanne take care of the bill and I feel a bit guilty about all the wine and oysters I devoured. We walk out onto the boardwalk right in front of the Seattle Great Wheel and enjoy the weather. We soak in the scene for a few minutes then head back to the car. It’s about 20 minutes back to Kirkland and Joanne opens up a nice bottle of white. We chat for about an hour, wherein she brings up another program at work and I exclaim now THAT’S corporate bullshit! She agrees that this particular instance is, in fact, corporate bullshit and I fess up to my obstinance from the night before. We finish our glasses and head to bed. More Seattle exploration awaits tomorrow.
