Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Space Needle Sham

On our first go-round of Downtown Seattle, Gliner and I failed to see the epic Space Needle that graces each and every postcard of The Rainy City. Only on our way out to a bar did we notice that this World’s Fair monolith was merely a midget in disguise…

Going to Seattle on a whim meant that we didn’t making lodging arrangements prior to our departure. Because the Seahawks had a big game on Sunday, our Saturday arrival meant that most downtown hotels were booked solid and the few rooms that remained vacant were being priced at ridiculous rates. After some quick in-car Googling, I found the Marco Polo Motel located a mere three miles from downtown at the rate of $89 per night. We rolled up and the place seemed as legitimate as a motel can be, and within minutes we were checked in. Upon learning of the motel’s free wireless internet (Password: Coffee1234 – we probably could have guessed that one in this brew-obsessed metropolis) Gliner and I whipped out our laptops and promptly vegetated for four straight hours, catching up on e-mail and surfing the web like we haven’t done in weeks because we lack home internet and head to Kennewick’s Espresso World for all of our internet needs.

This high-tech session, featuring man and his best friend (computer) was most necessary and felt as good and relaxing as any activity I can think of.

When 8:30 rolled around we headed to The Boathouse CafĂ©, a restaurant that occupies the upper floor of the famed Boathouse restaurant. The cafe features menu items at half the price of its sister-restaurant located below. While the service was good (and the staff didn’t forcefully change my portion sizes) the food was lacking (an overcooked salmon burger and New England style clam chowder that was plentiful in clams but lacked any flavor). I left disappointed that the highlight of my meal was the authentic German dobbelbock I drank while waiting for the food to arrive.

Post-dinner and looking for an interesting Saturday night, Gliner and I headed to the Belltown District, which we were told was the epicenter of Seattle’s trendy bars. We found the scene completely lacking with many grungy and grimy folks roaming the streets. There was one semi-decent bar with suit and tie clad doormen, so we gave it a shot. The clientele were well dressed and it seemed as if we were in Anybar, Manhattan. Only when we scored some seats at the bar and the drunken man to my left began singing along to “Don’t Stop Believing” at obnoxiously annoying decibel levels did the night almost get interesting. I gave this out of control drunk man a dirty look…he knew he was being obnoxious. But the first words that came out of his mouth were a snide, “What? Is it a Jewish holiday or something?” I replied, “Excuse me?” He proceeded to make a second anti-Semitic comment. I told him to “shut your racist mouth.” Some folks he was with apologized for him and called him an inappropriate drunken douchebag, but the guy didn’t stop. I guess I looked particularly Jewish wearing my new(ish) glasses (I now see five times better, especially at night). Nonetheless, the guy said to me, “Look at me, how can I be a racist?” (because he wasn't Caucasian and minorities can't be racists in this idiot's world...) I know I was verbally arguing with a drunken idiot at this point, but yes, minorities can be racists too, and this asshole certainly was one. Gliner said to me, “Morse, either ignore him or take it outside.” Good advice indeed. I chose the former option because I didn’t want my glasses to break nor did I know how much “back” this 40ish guy had at the bar…Thus, we left the bar without the drama I was secretly hoping for, as I genuinely have lacked in the drama department as of late.

Disappointed with the “scene,” we decided to eat the twelve bucks we paid for parking and headed back to the hotel to re-energize ourselves and make up for the sleep that we’ve lacked for the past three weeks.

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