Home
Rants
Illustrations
Profile
Contents
Web Rings
Awards
E-mail me


Since December 26, 1999
Counter
humans have meandered into this page.

ICQ Control Panel Page Me E-mail Express Me ICQ ICQ ICQ
ICQ Status:

Painting the town Red logo



I've had my web page up for a while now and every once in a while people will run into my page and send me mail… every once a while. I read a number of journals on the web; they're exceptional. They're laced with humor… and joy… and anger. Life. They write day after day about their thoughts and struggles and give the rest of us a window into their life. I admire them for their bravery and their skill. To be quite honest, there's a hint of jealousy on my part. I see what they do and only hope to someday be that eloquent and that prolific. Right now, there's only this little page and maybe the promise of a little something, and this will have to be it for a while.



I've met one of my dearest friends on the web. She reviewed my page some time ago. It first started by exchanging a few pieces of mail about her page and mine. It drifted into exchanging more information and sharing parts of our lives with each other. We've only spoken on the phone a few times, and we have yet to meet face to face. Yet I don't hesitate in calling her one of dearest friends. With the hustle of everyday life, both hers and mine, we exchange mail less frequently. She's originally from Rhode Island and every time I watch Providence, I think about her. Isn't the internet wonderful?



Me? An internet personality? Hardly. People run into my page on occasion. They wander in from either a web ring or link or wherever. They read some of the different details of my life or look at the illustrations I do; most leave as quickly and easily as they wandered in. Few send me mail. Peggy sent me mail. She wandered in from the Phenomenal Men site. She read a number of my pages and sent me mail about my Seattle page. She was considering moving here to Seattle and politely asked me questions about the city. It is always strange getting mail from strangers. I knew next to nothing about Peggy (though I deduced that she was indeed a she rather than a he). So I answered her questions as well as I could about Seattle without knowing other details about her.

So we exchanged a few pieces of mail. And one day I get a piece of mail letting me know that she'll be in Seattle. Naturally, I'll thrilled though I found it a bit disquieting. You see… much of my life is on this page, accessible for the entire world to view at its leisure. I knew that when I first started, although I wasn't quite prepared for meeting people that would have me at such a disadvantage. So we spoke on the phone a few times and arrange to meet during her stay here.



It was a Saturday morning… And I managed to wake up in the morning, which occurs infrequently at best. I wandered into the gym. It was my second consecutive Saturday doing my workout in the morning. I ran for two miles and did weight machines and free weights. I came back and proceeded to read for a while, neglecting to shower or get lunch for the time being. It must have been about 2pm by now.

Sometime after 3pm, the phone rang. It was Peggy. We chatted for a while and found that neither had plans for the evening. So I suggested we meet and do something. I figured… Seattle on a Saturday night, there should be a wealth of things to do. She agreed, and we made plans to meet. I still had to grab a shower and get dolled up; so it would be some time before I would be able to leave. I promised to call as I was on my way out the door. [You don't really want to know the sordid details of my shower do you?] I cracked open a Coke and drank half of it while getting dressed. As I'm getting ready to leave, I called to let her know that I'm on my way out the door. I still had to hit the automatic teller (to withdraw money, smartass, not to rob it) and fuel up, not too long though.

Did I mention how much of a dream it is to drive in Seattle? I live on the Eastside, meaning east of Lake Washington, in one of the suburbs. There are limited ways to get to downtown Seattle… north of the lake, south of the lake, or either of two bridges, 520 or Interstate 90. None of them is particularly fun to traverse. Tonight was no exception. There was a conspicuous slowdown on the 520 bridge as I'm driving across… not that I'm surprised. There was no apparent reason for the slowdown… No breakdowns, no accidents, no construction. Nothing. I wasn't surprised about that either. Seattle drivers brake for the same hallucinations.

After the struggle that always is maneuvering through the Seattle traffic, I eventually did make it there. As I neared her place, I call her from my phone. [It's a short call while I'm at a stop light, okay? Deal!] As I approached the intersection, my pager went off. [Uhmm… not a good time, will deal with it later] Peggy met me downstairs, she got in the car and after short greetings, and we drove off. Where? We decided to park my car where she's staying and walk around the city. I parked at one of the first spots I see, we exited the car, and I was finally able to give her a suitably warm greeting. We then navigated through the parking garage to get to the lobby. We had to descend half a parking level, to navigate through two different wings of the parking garage and finally ascend through the elevator before we reached the lobby. It felt like an automotive prison. But finally… Freedom!

I must now mention that I was wearing a mere button-up shirt with a banded collar… a fairly thin shirt, in the forty-something degree temperature.

Neither of us had had dinner. [Actually, I had only half a Coke all day, but who's counting?] So we decided to get something to eat, hopefully someplace where we could sit and talk for a while. Sounds like a relatively simple plan… right? Peggy had one other thing on her agenda for the day. Her watch had stopped working that morning (at 8:05), and she wanted to get the battery replaced. Also sounds trivial… right? Well, something happened to our plans. Seattle happened to our plans. The red in "painting the town red" is for stop.

Oh, yes, the battery… We decided to walk down to the West Lake Center, which is a mall in downtown Seattle, in the hopes of finding a place with a battery. We first stop by Nordstrom, which is immediately across the street. They said it would take a week. [A week? For a watch battery?] Peggy and I exchanged quizzical glances, "Uhmm, thanks." We finally made it to West Lake Center. You know what? There wasn't an obvious place that screamed "watch battery". Granted, we didn't look all that carefully. We did however see an armoire that went for the very reasonable price of $6200. I suppose it must have been an exceptional armoire; can't you buy some real estate for that?

In the meantime, I check my pager and call back. It was Len, he was wondering if I was interested in dinner. I politely declined.

At this point, I became a bit light-headed and pale and was close to passing out. Okay, I lied, but I was getting hungry. We drifted to the third floor where they have all the food, but nothing looked appealing. I'm sure the food was fine, but we wanted to chat. So we left the mall to brave the streets of Seattle. We did eventually check another of the larger department stores for a battery. They had a watch department… which would change it on the spot… when they're open. They closed at 6pm. I turned to Peggy and asked for the time. And she smiled, "Oh, it's 8:05" [Groan!] It was just past 6pm at this point, so she decided to simply return tomorrow to get it done.

Now for the food… have you ever tried to get a table in Seattle without a reservation? [Ha!] Peggy and I wandered around the streets of Seattle. We entered a restaurant that looked cozy and warm and agreeable and asked for a table for two.
"Do you have a reservation?"
"Uhmm… No. What is the wait?", I figured, "how bad can it really be?"
"We wouldn't be able to seat you until 9pm."
Wow! That was fairly impressive. Nine? I remember asking for the time. Peggy smiled, "It's 8:05." Needless to say we didn't wait over two hours for a meal. [It wasn't actually 8:05pm; keep up here!] It could've been a magnificent meal, but alas, we'll never know. We shuffled [meandered?] from street to street looking for a suitable place. We even went into the Rock Bottom Brewery. I figured this was somewhat of a chain, it should be easier to get a table. First table at 10pm you say? They said something about people waiting for a play to start across the street. On and on we wandered from one place to the next. We had another run with an Italian restaurant, which also didn't want (okay, could not accomodate) our business.
Now I don't want to go off on a rant. Okay, I lied. I do want to whine about this; so bear with me. Restaurants, like other businesses, are in it to make money. Hey, that's cool. I'm hip. I just can't see how lucrative it can be to have to turn away business. I mean, I can certainly see waiting for half an hour or so for a table. That's perfectly reasonable. However, when you can only cater to customers who make reservations, you then will exclude a fair amount of business. Why would you ever want to turn away business? I'm sure there are many other variables to take into account that I'm not aware of. I've never studied business, never had much of an interest. Maybe you can make some educated guesses about the demand and thus allocate for sufficient capacity at the start, enough to account for people walking in off the street. I suspect the whole thing stinks more of the "exclusivity" factor… okay, the snobbishness factor. I can actually see some snots thinking, "Well, it can't be that good if you don't need reservations…" [Eyes rolling…]
As we were roaming around the streets of Seattle, I saw a sign for a place called the Icon Grill. [Must control self, not tell computer jokes…] We walked in and they told us a similar story. They did, however, have a lounge, and it was open seating in the lounge. Peggy and I decided to hang out at the bar and wait for a table. We started chatting and getting to know each other better. About half an hour and three Pepsi's later, we finally were able to snag a place where we could sit and eat. I believe that she ordered the spaghetti and salad, and I ordered the butternut squash soup and the prime rib. The soup was exceptional and the slivers of almonds (at least, I think they were almonds) were a particularly nice touch. The prime rib was equally noteworthy. They did a strange bit with the mashed potatoes; they spooned (carved?) the guts from a potato half and they used it to serve the mashed potatoes, which had a pleasant hint of garlic, though probably not enough to classify it as "garlic mashed". They also served a couple of stems of broccoli, but just a taste enough to tease you, little more than a garnish really, which was a shame since I was in the mood for broccoli. And of course, they also served the obligatory branch of parsley, which I never touch. As for the prime rib itself, it is pretty tough to mess up a prime rib, and this one was certainly well prepared. You probably weren't all that interested in my meal were you? [Sigh!]

We finished the meal, and I wondered out loud about the time. Peggy smiled, "It's 8:05." I smiled back. It was actually about 9:30pm. We walked back out into the streets of Seattle. The city was pissed at us, "How dare you dine here if you don't have a reservation?" It was gusting enough wind to send us bundling up for warmth, not that I was complaining, mind you. Here we were, one of us new to the city, still not accustomed to the weather, the other someone who chooses to defy the elements (think idiot here…). We decided to call it a night and headed back to her place, enduring the gusts of wind and toying with the idea of ducking into the occasional alley for shelter. We arrived at her place just as it starts to rain. [Ha, Seattle… You missed!]

Peggy had to exit with me to appease the convoluted parking system. Okay, remember the labyrinth that we had to unravel on the way up? Well, we now had to find my car amongst this multi-leveled, multi-sectioned mess. We went down one elevator, walked from one section to another, and even ascended a flight or two of stairs, with a number of missed turns tossed in for giggles. We did eventually find the car, and managed to escape this parking prison. I drove around the building. We exchanged goodbyes, and I dropped her off in front of her building.

All in all, it was a wonderful evening and incredibly fun. You have probably noticed by now that I mention very little about Peggy. Well, I don't want to infringe upon her privacy here; that's one I struggle with a fair bit. I will say that she is absolutely delightful company. Oh, and that she has the most stunningly beautiful blue eyes.

[Home] [Rants] [Illustrations] [Profile] [Contents] [Web Rings] [Awards] [E-mail] [SouthBeach]

CopyrightDecember 26, 1999