MLK Day: A Day ON, Not a Day OFF!
Here's a little MLK story for y'all.
MLK Day, 2001,
Bar hopping with Trustfund Boy and Frat Boy- pure alkies. Tryin' to keep up. No friggin way. At least I was warm, though. My new North Face beannie kept the cold away, and this new to Seattle Kauai Boy had suffered quite a bit before figuring out that a bald head exposed to 40 mph 40 degree Farenheit wind = pain- no matter how warm the torso is.
"You got any money, honey?" She called me honey. It made me feel special.
"I dunno sweetheart. Lemme check."
I reach into the wallet and find I have 40 bucks. It needs to last me a week, which isn't really that hard since I'm living off Trustfund's generosity... free rent, big breakfast, big dinner, and all I can drink... but still, walking the streets looking for a job requires Starbucks, and that's just one Double Vanilla Latte a day (with tip.) Then I see notice homeless ladies hat. It says:
MLK Day: A Day ON! Not a day off!
And I have a great moment. That hat is the money. It is the best hat ever in the world. Ever. (Did I say ever?)
"I'm not going to give you any money, sweetheart. But I'll make you a deal. I'll give you my beannie and $40 bucks for that hat."
"Okay, honey!"
Fratboy has wandered over. Through the murk of my drunken stupor a glimmer of suspicion: She said yes too fast. Maybe this isn't that great a deal? I ask Fratboy to play financial advisor because I'm too drunk.
Fratboy's considered response.... "GOOD DEAL!"
Bastard. I spent the rest of the night showing off the hat to every woman I could. And sharing the story. I did not score.

4 Comments:
At 12:55 PM,
Crazy Diamond said…
Maybe those women couldn't figure out what the hat meant, either.
I never got drunk in Seattle, but I did have a man (drunk? crazy? who can tell, in Seattle?) explain to me for approximately ten minutes at a bus stop that the correct pronunciation of "Pinot Noir" was PEE-no NOR, not PEE-no NWAHR and so many people were idiots who didn't know the correct pronunciation.
I was new to the city and just stared at him blankly during his monologue. I finally realized it was going to be a never-ending monologue and was about to say "No hablo ingles, Senor" when his bus showed up.
That was a bus stop near a restaurant called "The Hardened Artery". I ate there once for lunch. Excellent burgers.
At 1:56 PM,
Harkonnendog said…
Those characters were part of the reason I loved living in Seattle. I always used to sit in the back of the buses because there were so many freaky people back there.
Btw... just so you know I was NOT that drunk dude at the bust stop. Not that I remember every time I was drunk at the bus stops... I just can't see myself getting drunk enough to have a conversation about wine. lol
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