Manic Oppressive

So I went out again Friday night. Just to, you know, mingle. Actually, that’s a lie. I was searching for the perfect woman.

So I went to a place where they play live music, and most of the crowd is “good people”. And I started talking to this girl.

It was perfect; she’s an artist, speaks French, sharp, and really quite pretty; so we’re having a rather engaged conversation. She had only moved to Seattle recently, and only knew a few people. Well, I don’t get out much, but I was able to introduce her to a handful of other folk, and we started flirting.

“Wee!”, I started to think.

Then she starts talking about her husband’s brother, so I backed off a bit and started to wonder what’s going on with kids these days.

Later inspection revealed she was wearing a ring, so I guess I should’ve known better.

Anyway, when I did back off, she ended up leaving, and blew me a kiss. And again, I’m wondering what this world is coming to.

My parents said that bars were a bad place to meet people, and it wasn’t until Friday that I realized just how right they were.

It had been a late day at work.

Another programmer invited me for scotch and basketball at the bar across the street. It seemed like a good idea at the time…

When I got there, I ordered some Macallan 12 year-old scotch. The Good Stuff.

Well, normally when one orders scotch, especially the Good Stuff, one expects two fingers. Maybe three on a lucky day. This bartender? She gave me a fist-full. I mean, I had less gratuitous pours of milk as a child.

And being the dedicated epicurean ass I am, I drank it. There was a wager that I would not be able to finish. Ah Ha! Showed them.

At the point where I was finished, I think I may have been too drunk to say, ride the bus. So I opted to stay at work and get stuff done (and maybe release some code, you know). And I ran into my director, which must have made for an interesting conversation:

Yesshhh. I stinks we sshhould be building. Rockets. Today. But you’re a good bossh. Truley. Best bossh I’ve had in Days.

What fun.

So I was just outside my apartment, when I heard a squeal of brakes, a swerve, and then the crashing sound of someone running over a parking sign. I look over horrified, and see a car on the curb with lots of smoke and whatnot.

Now, most normal, sane, and rational people would get out of their car at this point. They would wander around, see if there was any damage, move the sign, stagger off to a liquor store, etc. Not this one. He rocked his car back and forth a bit, got it back on the road, and sped off.

So I took his plate number (707-SZM, if you’re curious) and quietly went up to my apartment to call the police. I figured that since the “crime” had already happened, I could get away with calling the non-emergency number instead of the heavy-hammer-like 911. (I still haven’t called 911 in Seattle, so I’m trying to keep my record clean).

So I called it.

This is the Seattle Police Department… If you have an emergency, or if you need medical assistance, hang up and dial 911…

Please listen carefully to the following options …

If you are police or law enforcement and are calling regarding an alarm, press 1.

If you need something that we don’t really understand, feel free to press 2.

For all other options, press 3 or stay on the line

I pressed “3″.

Please listen carefully to the following 9 options.

If you are calling about the whereabouts of a recovered stolen car, press 1

If you would like to report on a car that was impounded, press 2

If you think you may know about a car that will be impounded, press 3

If you are calling to report an Alien Invasion, please press 4

If you are calling to report an Alien Invasion, please press 5

Instead of listening to the other options, why don’t you press 6?

If you would like to report an emergency in Seattle from outside the city limits, or you are calling to report some other odd-ball situation that would be better handled by e911 with trained workers, please press 7.

If you would like to report a non-emergency crime in progress, or report on a crime in progress, or report the evidence of a crime that will require an officer’s presence, or would like to do something else that really doesn’t make a lot of sense but will take us bloody forever to describe on this automated menu thingy, please press 8

So I pressed 8, and got an operator.

Dude, people. What the hell? Put “Non Emergency Crime in Progress” as #1 on the menu. Or better yet, get rid of the menu. Denver doesn’t need one, why do you? And why on earth would I call a non-emergency number to report an emergency in another city?

Grr.

Anyway, I have an accident that I should go clean up before rush-hour.

The Safeway that I go to sells these little paper bags of apples. They usually contain 7 or so, and I pick them up fairly frequently because, well, it’s the thing to do.

Unfortunatly, I found glass in the bottom of the bag yesterday, and it was pressed into the skin of the apples on the bottom.

My first thought was, “Man, that would’ve been handy for Halloween.” My second thought was, “I want my money back”. My third thought was “Well, she’d be a lot cuter if she wasn’t into that whole Satan thing…”

But whatever.

I was watching the Football game tonight, Denver vs. Seattle. This was difficult for me. When I moved, I decided that I couldn’t abandon my “loyalty” with the Broncos, yet I couldn’t ignore the Seahawks either.

So I told myself, “I have an AFC team, and an NFC team, and blah blah blah”. Well, the ‘blah blah blah’ kinda fell apart tonight when the two went head-to-head.

So I was in a bar, surrounded by Seahawk fans, rooting against them. I wasn’t the only Bronco fan in the place, but we were out numbered. And dang it, 5 turnovers. Err.

Good times being in the minority. Pity I couldn’t yell too loud; I’m fighting a cold.

When I first moved to seattle, and I noticed some of the insanely steep hills, and I wondered what happens when there’s ice.

Now I know. All hell breaks loose.

This is the view outside my apartment window, tilted strangly so I could brace the camera. The angle of this hill isn’t too bad, maybe 7 degrees. Some of the hills are twice that. I imagine a cat would slip just looking up one of those.

Anyway, some of those cars are in control, most of them are stuck. After taking this picture, I went outside and helped get some people unstuck. (First gear, folks.) Then I went inside and fell asleep to the sound of cars trying to make it up the grade.

Also, Seattle Snow makes the best snowballs. Just so you know.

I was watching a weather forecast, and the weather man was forecasting flooding for today. “Gee”, I think, “Flooding, Why did I move here again?” They’re expecting 2-6″ of rain tonight.

I guess that this isn’t really normal; the expectation is that there will be more rain tonight then there is normally in November. So I feel a little bit better.

Oh, and Mom: Thanks for the umbrella. I actually was able to use it today.

Since I moved up to this pretty little corner of the world, I’ve driven about 1800 miles. That includes a brief jaunt up to Vancouver, B.C., so that’s about 200 miles a month.

That number is higher then it should be. There is a reason for this. Occasionally, I get in my car and just sort of drive. The idea is to learn my way around the city, and cause a sudden increase in blood pressure.

A few nights ago, I decided that I needed to go to Bed Bat and Beeeeeeeeeyond! to pick up a larger-then-life trash can so I can store my recycleables. So after spending 30 minutes trying to park and 5 minutes “shopping”, I decided to learn me some more of that Seattle Stuff.

Now, the deal is that if you don’t know where you are, you will invariably end up on a highway, which doesn’t solve any problems at all for you. And this is what happened to me that night; I ended up on a highway.

Then, about 20 minutes later, I was able to get off the highway. Then I drove for about a month and found my way home, a learned man.

So I just finished writing my story of the day. It’s longer then usual, so it has it’s “special place”. It also might be considered, um, Too Much Information. But it has to be one of the funnier experiences I’ve had in a while, so it might be worth checking out.

Warning: Unedited. Too late right now…

Occasionally, in Seattle, my stereo’s receiver picks up these weird, errant signals which causes my speakers to buzz. The signals are brief; maybe about a second long, and they occur a few times a day.

Well, I had enough tonight and I was feeling brave, so I decided to decode one of the signals. It turns out, it’s the Devil, and he’s been giving me directions to my next meal.

So I ended up at IHOP.

Then, when I was paying my tab, the guy behind the counter asked me how I pronounced my name. “I usually don’t,” I replied. “But when I do, it rhymes with clue.” Yuk, Yuk. Then I said, “You know, it took me 20 years to learn how to pronounce that?” Yuk, Yuk.

Then I messed up adding my bill: $11.89 + $3.00 =? $15.89. So he says, “I think your math is wrong…” and I had to agree…