After being back in Seattle for a month, with the same job, but a better apartment, it feels like the last 4 months in Europe never even happened. Then with Erika and Ryan back in town, it feels like the last 7 years never even happened.
I have two best friends, one for each gender. They've been away for a long time and this rare moment was a tremendous cause for celebration. I filled my freezer with liquor, and we filled the streets of Seattle with love.
The first major event was GAY KARAOKE! Ryan got right off the plane and met everybody at a big purple gay bar. Joanna sang "Don't leave me this way," and you could say she soft rocked the house. Ryan picked that song for her long ago, but we're not giving him any Karaoke prize money. Erika doesn't even like karaoke, but she was the one that made us all meet there, which of course turned out to be an appropriately fun yet kinda awkward night. Which is the way I like it, awkward is the new funny.
The next day, I got work off and we went to Seattle's 1-90 lid park. 7 years ago we took a series of pictures out there, and now we ritualistically returned to that spot to see how the years have treated us. Erika has aged gracefully, and Ryan has refashioned himself as the illustrated man. He may have tattoos on his arm, but he helps kids stay in school! What a dirty steamy photo shoot, damn. Lake Washington is gonna need a shower, and a really big towel.
Looking at these photos now I realize that I look like shit! All those late nights drinking and eating large servings apparently have taken a toll. Is this what 30 looks like?!? I like to be hard on myself, because apparently no one else cares that I'm letting it go. I should be working out, not blogging. Forget that, it's party recounting time!!!
Hell, we even partied in Mukilteo. Then we rode the ferry just so we could go to a Pirate Party on Whidbey island. We destroyed that island! By the end of the night we were whipping people on the beach with bullwhip seaweed. Hell that was the beginning of the night. Later we were photographed riding the roof of a minivan! 'Cause that's how Whidbey people roll man.
Oh and we had a huge R. Kelly movie watching party. That movie is genius damn it. Please make more and don't let anyone intelligent ever speak to R. Kelly. Just keep doing your thing brother. I want 10 more episodes of "Trapped in the Closet!"
Plus my sister Lieta was back in town from the Southwest, adding another layer to the insanity. We even had a Radiohead Geek out party and listened to the new Thom Yorke album. Ryan's favorite part was undoubtedly the games of dominoes played at my apartment and watching the sunset from Patrick's patio.
Then there was the Mariner's game. Patrick and the David Swidler rallied to meet at the ballpark. We got pleasantly wasted, and we were loved by the crowd around us. I was drunk and thrown out of the game, but not for being belligerent. They could tell by the way I cradled my large Coca-Cola, that perhaps there was more to it. She sniffed the cup and called me drunk. The alcohol enforcement officers surrounded me and ushered me to the isle and out of the stands.
She wanted to know how I got the rum in. I kinda revealed my secrets and she said.
"You have two options, either you can leave now, or I can call security."
"I have a third option," I said "let me stay!" All this while wearing a promotional rally towel on my head. "You haven't had any complaints have you."
"No," she said. Apparently, I thought this gave me the moral high ground and for the next ten minutes I attempted to reason my way back into the game. After that, I tried a little charm and that got the job done.
"Search me," I encouraged her to search me many times, but she wouldn't do it.
"C'mon it will be fun!" I exclaimed. That's where she gave in, better to let the drunkard back in then pat him down. Triumphantly, I returned to game. Standing just beneath the bleachers, I am sure she heard the burst of yelling and applause as I reentered the game. You made the right choice young lady. As soon as I was back the Mariner's tied the game and I told all those damn Yankee fans to, "SHUT UP!"
Even better, the game stayed tied until the bottom of the ninth. When Adrian Beltre hit a game winning walk off home run, and we all went home supremely happy. Then when we walked into the brand new bar by Safeco, the bartenders recognized us and gave us at least a hundred dollars worth of free beer and shots. Fortune favors the bold.
A fine week my friends, it's a good thing we don't hang out together all the time, someone might get really hurt.
