Farting French Bulldogs and Rubber Sprinkles

Surreal doesn't even begin to describe my week... and its only wednesday.

above: October Smiles

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First, on Monday I am walking down 3rd ave downtown on my way to my bus (after riding the S.L.U.T downtown... I do that sometimes, ride the slut downtown and then ride the bus back just for people watching, shits and giggles) and I notice some condoms lying around. Not the usual used-crusties, but still in wrapper. Then I see some more a little further down. Eventually I notice that they are sprinkled here-and-there all over the sidewalk for several blocks... many different kinds, flavors, colors, brands, sizes etc. What originally looked like the accidental spillage of prophylactics began appearing intentional. As this is along a stretch of 3rd that is noteworthy for the prostitutes and crack, I wasn't really sure if the condom thing was weird, or brilliant, or a totally random event that just happened to occur in oddly appropriate locale. I will probably never know.

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Below: "Bang!"

Then yesterday I swing by my neighborhood bar for a couple of $1.50 PBRs and sit next to this fairly cute girl who apparently is roommates with one of the lesbian owners (whether this is a reliable indication of sexual preference, I have no idea). She has a dog on her lap wearing a black and orange striped sweater with skull and cross bones on the back. Nobody appears to care, or even notice for that matter. What I did notice though was the pooter toots that this thing was cranking, raking my nostrils with an odor that might fall under the category of death itself. The girls apologized for the dog and explained that she changed his diet, to which I replied "switched to WHAT?!? Maybe you should switch back!". She politely took the dog for a little walk to air him out, but returned with a glass of ice and proceeded to let the still farting dog lick ice cubes off the bar!!! Holy fuck...

So (finally?) this morning I had this weird nightmare, the kind that starts off with basic innocent random adventures that make no sense, like riding on a city bus driving backwards... through a swamp. Then things got kinda creepy and a friend of mine had my two year old daughter pinned on a stump under his foot, about to crush her when my fifth grade teacher shows up to save her, only to to begin chasing me, which somehow turned into a deer that was chasing me. All I wanted was to get back to my daughter, and I couldn't find her. Then I find myself climbing into a tower made of sticks and grass and drop to the bottom where it resembles the alley behind my apartment, and I begin digging in dumpsters... looking for my daughter. It was really stressing me out, but somehow I snapped out of it and I suddenly sat up in my bed, and everything was fine. My daughter was alive, well and happy. I call an old friend and she told me to relax because things were fine, and asked if I wanted to get some beers later with my old pals from college. Then I realize that work is going awesome, and I was totally stoked to get going and start my 15 minute walk to work. I felt so good, the relief that everything was good made me happy. Then I woke up, because apparently, that was a dream too.

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Riding the SLUT

Above: Islands Of Influence

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So this week I started working at our new location in Seattle, which happens to still be walking distance from home (just in the opposite direction) and has a view of equal--but different--quality as the last. The most notable thing about the new neighborhood however is the S.L.U.T. (South Lake Union Trolley). This thing is a streetcar, which goes between whats becoming Seattle's mini research triangle that was previously known for abandoned warehouses, prostitutes, and lots of litter (usually condoms, or condom wrappers) and downtown, which is known for, well much of the same.

So the other day I decided I would ride the trolley downtown for shits and giggles and because, well, I needed to get downtown. The first thing worth noting is that nobody knows how to pay for it, and thus everybody just kinda gets on, and--apparently--doesn't pay. I have a pass that is supposed to work with the slut, but when I get on the slut nobody asks to see it, and there doesn't appear to be an obvious place to insert it. There are slut machines that accept money but don't appear to give anything in return except for a little blinking light that might indicate that you've "been served". Not sure what that means... but hey, its the slut.

So while riding the slut I encountered the usual technicians and research associates you would expect in a biotech neighborhood and I sat down next to one. I ask the guy I sit next to how to pay, and he just shrugs his shoulder and says "I just wave my thing around so folks now I'm not getting a free ride" while pointing to the same pass I have hanging around my neck.

Then totally unprompted he says to me: "This thing cost like a million a mile, that's 5 million on this stupid thing."

To which I replied "Oh, I thought it only ran like one and a hlaf miles?".

"Yeah, it goes both ways."

That prompted a blank stare. The guy was clearly some professional, and had some accounting shit open in Excel on his laptop. Last time I checked, 2 + 2 was 4. But hey, what the fuck... it was the slut.

Cheers.

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