This past summer I packed up my bags, Tetris-ed everything I own into a moving truck and drove away from my small college town for the center of apparently every sexually explicit fan-fiction ever: Seattle, Washington. Okay, I kind of lied, I didn’t drive. Being in a moving vehicle on any highway with more than three lanes gives me a panic attack. Thanks for taking that bullet, Mom. But I digress.
There are several things that require adjusting when you move from a town of 45,000 to a city of 650,000. The culture shock was very real. I’m still not totally comfortable with all of the people and really hate that I can’t go night running because I’ll probably end up dead in a park. RBF was right when she said that Rural Scaries are vastly different that the City Scaries. In Montana I had to worry about getting a disorderly conduct ticket when I would lay in the street after one too many beers. In Seattle if I do this, I’m getting hit by a bus and probably a disease from the concrete. I’m still a little afraid of making eye contact with strangers on the bus, but we’re getting there.
Everyone has an opinion about coffee.
If you don’t have a go to Starbucks order and the app everyone behind you in line at 8:15 AM wants to kill you. If you vocalize liking Starbucks the hipsters on the Hill roll their eyes at you and make an annoying effort to ensure their Seattle Coffee Works sleeve is totally visible. If you don’t drink coffee you should probably just STFU and move to Portland. What was once a simple, necessary thing to wake up in the morning is now part of who you are. I’ve started carrying around my Americano partially just to look like I fit in. I’ve turned down dates that want to “just grab coffee” because it felt like too much pressure.
Bonus for getting over your super creative self and liking Starbucks is Starbucks Reserve. They have booze. And anywhere I can buy a beer and some CD featuring a ukulele is a business I can get behind.
Having an affinity for any sports team outside of the area code is not allowed.
I was in Seattle watching the NFC game when we took the lead in the 4th quarter. I watched the streets flood with blue and green little running people who had left midway through (quitters) when they realized the Hawks had turned it around. That being said, I grew up in the Midwest so I felt like I was semi-obligated to be into the Packers. Guess what? I had no choice but to CRUSH those feelings because I have a PNW zip code now. When you live here the big three (Seahawks, Sounders, and Mariners) are all that matter when they are playing. Professional sports were not really a “thing” in my hometown or my college town so this has been a whole new ball game – nailed that pun. It doesn’t matter if they’re sucking; you love them. And don’t even think of defending the 49ers or the Patriots ever. HUGE mistake.
And like The Goonies: Sonics fans never say die.
Taking the bus drunk is never a good idea.
Look. We’ve all been there. You just spent $64 dollars on drinks and you’re feeling a little bit poorer than you like. You’re not THAT drunk, you’re just buzzed, and you think that taking the bus will make you feel fiscally and environmentally responsible. Here’s the thing: there are less routes at night and when the sun goes down the commuters get weirder by the hour. You are probably going to run into some crazies and your ride is going to take longer and you are going to have to pee. My favorite almost terrifying person I’ve encountered on a drunk bus was an Asian man in a pageboy hat with a duct taped cat carrier full of hay. He was carrying a one eyed bunny in his hoodie and if you looked at him or his pet for too long he would scream, “Look at that fucking weirdo, bunny! Isn’t she WEIRD?!”
Just spring for an Uber so you can get home quickly your bed and your drunk munchies. You’ll thank yourself for it every time.