In this neighborhood I’ll never run out of things to do. It’s the perfect mix of ritzy hippie to allow an artist like me to occupy the basement units. I’ve developed a 6th sense for dives because at least twice I’ve walked by a place on my way somewhere, stopped, turned around and gone into the place. Both have been excellent. The Mecca, mentioned earlier, and now the Streamline Tavern. Continue reading Lower Queen Anne
Category Archives: Dives
Mecca
I almost walked by. The bar on Google maps I was heading for was closed for repairs so I just started strolling. Checked out the block with Safeway and a yoga studio on it. Took another turn and saw the sign for The Mecca. Given the name and prevalence of Asian cuisine in the area I almost dismissed but something made me turn. The door has two martini glasses crossed behind a high ball glass. Yeah, that’s my jam.
The all-day breakfast was a pleasant surprise also. This could be my everyday joint if the food tastes good. I’m already drinking an Irish coffee that warms me to the soul. The waitress/bartender is the perfect type of don’t-give-a-fuck nice person that gets to you when she gets to you. A patient smile and tired eyes are the only thing she’ll show the customer. I’m at the worn Formica bar running the length of a shotgun diner. There’s burn scars from coffee pots and miscellaneous scratches and dents that only comes from years of consistent use. Most of the people trickling in are disappearing into a room left of the door. I spotted a pinball machine in that direction that warrants further inspection.
Oddly, this breakfast diner qualifies as a dive bar also. It’s not pretentious or overdone. I would guess they keep the same chill vibe no matter what time of the week and then weekends are jam-packed with yuppies looking for hangover cures. The place I originally started toward is labeled a dive on Google but the fact it’s listed there has me inherently suspicious of its qualifications. This place is hidden in plain sight on a busy street near a tourism hub and only lucky looky-lous and those guided by locals get to experience this blast from the past.
So far the food is good. I know this is a place I’ll come again. If for no other reason, they serve a $6 waffle.
Everywhere Is the Same
Last night was a perfect night. Good music, good friends and a room full of beautiful people. Makes me wonder why I left. Except I know the same fun surrounding me last night is also in Seattle. I spent most of the night listening to music and hanging out alone. I can do that just about anywhere. I’m not sure the music will be as good in the PNW places I find but that’s just because Memphis has spoiled me.
I asked a boy in Portland if the city has any blues or soul music. He said, “Sure we have blues but not really any soul – mainly because we’re all white!” He was attempting a bad joke but I find it very telling. I’m lily white and yet I know what soul is. For all the progressive outlooks in the area there are clearly some cultural gaps in my new home. Maybe it’s part of my job to help rectify that.
Roach Hell
I did it. I broke the seal on my savings account and started the inevitable outward flow of liquidity. It’s in exchange for the momentum to head west. I’m comfortable where I am. I like the people and things in my life. I’m settled in a way I’ve never known before. If it wasn’t for all the hard work past me put into this Seattle thing I could be tempted to stay. Sitting comfortably on my pile of savings, watching it trickle away.
So I sent the deposit check and won’t think about it again till I’m there. Just how I planned my wedding. This is the closest to seizing the day I can get. I’m still in shock. I have a permanent grin and everything is brighter. I am already moving, ever so slowly, and more perceptive people can tell. I’m known for disappearing but I don’t know how anyone could miss this train. I’ll be pulling out of the station for at least 3 weeks.
A month ago, I started treating every time I see someone like it could be the last. I might never stop doing that.
Creeping Sadness
Words and feelings seeping out at angles painful to watch.
Emblazoned across the sky for all the moon to see
Not full until she says we can stop
Fulfillment is not something you can buy
Craven, small boys below the bed, sleeping on mattresses from the floor. The floor of where is the question. Location location location. The locomotion of crazy makes a train-ride out of the city hard to ignore. Confetti and silly string is not punk rock, but then again I’m a sap.
I had a pain in my shoulder I can keep off my back with one more reason to go down. Down town to the place where Leroy brown might be found on the ground. A pound can be the puppy or flesh. Ragged, swelling at the sight of blood all over your cock. You don’t mind. You don’t know.
Better to skip the holiday party, in my experience.
Watching the movie is another way to buy into the hype.
Unfiltered
Heavy and sweet
Syruping my throat
Bubbling my words
I croak with the effort
Attempting to make
An eloquent scene
Matching the feeling
My heart exudes
Chances to stare
Chalked up to cliche
Advantage, honor code.
The most glaring gaps
Are the simplest thing
Moments not shared
Sushi not eaten.
Shows not binged
Impulses not rewarded.
What hurts run deeper.
Habits accounted for
Mutually budgeted time
Comfortable ideologies
Pets only we share.
I consume less alone.
An unforeseen loss
Interest in longevity.
Lies always exist
Worming around corpses
Of first impressions.
Creating space inside
Filled with love, or pride.
Glaring ego glimmering
Over a tundra of feelings.
Freedom and expression
Can be mutually exclusive.
Racism
In vocational school I spent some time training at The Med. On my first day, Tanya and I were walking back from the ED (Emergency Department) where we’d dropped off a patient. A man and his wife came rushing up to me and asked where he should go to find his family member. I immediately ceded the floor to the employee standing right next to me.
They stood there, mouths agape, unable to make words. Why the hesitation? My confusion cleared up when I saw the look on Tanya’s face. Pursed lips and the dead-eyed determined glaze of a woman dealing with idiots. Just then a young man in a long white coat rushes up to the couple with that comforting sense that he’d been looking for them all along. The triad frantically wanders off and we keep walking.
I looked at Tanya and she looked at me. “You saw that, didn’t you?”
I cast my eyes down, “Yeah,” I sigh, “It’s what I think it was?”
“Yep.”
Taphephobia
The task is 1000 words. Five down nine hundred ninety left. Continue reading Taphephobia
Liability Coverage
Three crazy days draped in haze
Foggy memories, litter the roads
Masquerades and monsters’ ball
Selfish shindig shoveling dirt on egos
Alone in the corner, content with my lot
Socialites strained through indifference
Weep and wail, stone faced security
Seeking reparations for years not lived
Same age as a car my father owned
Resale value is relative. I’m a classic.
Hurtling down hills caked in obstacles
No insurance for the worst case.