-the alley west of Broadway, on Pike. note the jar atop the nearest dumpster! in it is a lone pickle. pickles and ankhs and everything that is right with the world, condensed.
-Hansen's tangerine-lime soda, shitty vodka, ginger juice, bendy straw. roof deck. sunset. I sprawled on one of the inhospitable chaises and read more of "off the grid", fully aware of the irony, until it got chilly and a group of neighbors started commandeering the barbecue and talking about refinancing.
it has been, climatically, a fucking magical summer. I will try to remember this in January.
-11th and Pike. good thing none of this applies to me.
-October 5th. 530pm. 16th and Denny.
-on the dead grass at UW. drip coffee from Allegro. room for cream.
-11th and Pike. apparently it is a concentrated nexus of badassery.
-Pike Place Market. this used to be the Coney Dog stand across from the magazine place. I always loved its dissonance to the other, far more earnest, booths. did I buy anything from there, ever? fuck no. so I am, as are probably you, directly responsible for it no longer being here.
i assuaged my guilt by going to said magazine stand and grubbily glancing at this month's Proust questionnaire at the back of this month's Vanity Fair: Dolly Parton. you should read it. she is, as always, fucking magical.
"Boulder calls itself the greenest town in America. My visit convinced me that it is at least the smuggest town in America." -Nick Rosen, 'Off the Grid'
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