Stop in Seattle

We made it to Seattle in good spirits. Fresh off our meeting with Rob in LA, we headed north up the coast to San Francisco, where we stayed with a couple of Iris’s friends from Morehouse. It was a lovely time and city, and we were feeling the freedom of the mythical west. 

Our first day in Washington, however, was pouring rain. Still beautiful, but with a cloud of nostalgia. I don’t know what would have happened if Iris hadn’t come along on this crazy idea of mine…I think she only came because she didn’t want to think about all of the possibilities. She knew how much I was running from. 

I haven’t heard from Clara since we were in Detroit. She’s doing great, she says. Her roommate has a boyfriend over all the time, which is annoying, but fall in New York is beautiful, and she loves her 20th century literature class. Barnard is her place, she told me. 

This hurts me, but I can’t blame her. I fled too, and now Don is the only one in New Orleans. I wonder if Clara will always resent me for leaving her father, or maybe only for not doing it years before. I needed her departure to start the domino effect. I can’t always be the strong one.

Anyways, Iris is here and she’s forcing me to do all the Seattle things. We go to Pike’s Place and buy flowers and eat clam chowder, we sip mochas at the first Starbucks, and see whales during our ferry to Bainbridge Island. It’s truly lovely.

We stop at a bagel place near Eighth Avenue before we head out in our growingly messy Nissan rental. We sit down and immediately hear two men arguing across from us. Apparently, it’s about some rock band the cafe is playing. I have no idea who it is. Iris says it's Nirvana, and I vaguely remember Clara trying to get me to listen to them at some point....As for me, I never much liked rock music.

I can already tell I don't like these guys. Like a lot of men I've met in my life, they try to claim their opinion is an objective fact even within a completely subjective topic. One, especially, seems to be adamant about his viewpoint. He definitely thinks he's a hot shot. We turn away and ignore them. 

I loved Seattle, but I don't think I'm gonna miss it. Clara and Don clouded my thoughts here, like the weather clouded up the sky. I'm ready to move on.