Well...besides trying to get back to the hotel via Uber, hot and exhausted and totally fried and communicating with drivers whose only language seemed to be, "walk eighteen blocks to a location you've never heard of BECAUSE YOU'VE NEVER BEEN TO SEATTLE before!" this was a jam packed day filled with fun and photo ops and tourist traps.
We took an Uber--apparently they know what they're doing in the morning rather than at a bewitching hour--to the Museum of Pop Culture, hoping I'd win some kind of souvenir mug or medal for knowing a lot of trivia about "Sleepless in Seattle" but this museum was for nerds, and even 'though I'd like to say that I'm proudly that, I'm really not as nerdy as I should be.
(Although would a NON-nerd instantly anagram Laura Dern's name as "Aural Nerd" just because she could?)
The museum had a salute to freaks from horror movies, but if I really wanted to see that, I'd break out old photos albums to see guys I dated in my twenties.
Horror and sci-fi are not in my wheelhouse, I only know genres like the "Before" trilogy.
We learned a lot about Hitchcock and misogyny and Pearl Jam and Jim finally admitted he had had enough with the curious phrase "I think I blew my wad."
We then went to the Space Needle and learned a little more about Hitchcock as we experienced reel-life Vertigo.
The view was as exciting as you would imagine, and I even saw a facade of “Seattle Grace” but then I thought..”life isn’t just about magnificent vistas..it’s about LUNCH!
..which, it turns out, is as difficult to get as an Uber.
We were willing to spend Big Bucks to go the revolving restaurant with the glass floor, called Sky City, and no employee seemed to know the restaurant was no longer operating
We tried to reserve another place, but they only served “small bites” and only alcoholic beverages. Teetotalers were not welcome in the revolving restaurant.
We finally found an eatery that was open, part of the Museum of Pop Culture, where I was served two breaded rocks, but at least I got my Diet Coke,
Last stop: The magnificent Chilhuly’s Glass and Garden exhibit, my favorite of the three things we did today.
I may seem very shallow, but I was honestly more enthralled with the floral ceiling here than I was with that ho-hum Sistine Chapel.
We saw sculptures that were higher than the locals that smoked weed in front of our hotel last night, and because art is subjective, I saw different things than everyone else did.
Tiny white tubes lined with crystal looked like bean sprouts, accompanied by shredded carrots bedazzled with beads.
The artist had no reason to believe someone like me would see Black Q-tips and strawberry cough drops and the AT&T globe, but that’s what I saw with my very non-artistic eyes. I’m sure Mr. Chihuly will forgive me and call me a weirdo.
We saw lots of designer dogs on our walk back to find the evasive Uber, and we shared a delicious Strawberry Shortcake lemonade, and we marveled over the massive talent of all the street performers.
Two played at the same time..”Cha Cha Slide” and my favorite ABBA song, “Chiquitita”, but it worked…two songs that should not be played simultaneously but were and it worked.
I then see a weird lady, dancing to both songs, making sweet little pirouettes, but then I got a closer look, and she was dangling a cigarette in one hand, and a heavy looking container of what looked liked either a gallon of honey or gasoline. I was hoping it was honey, and it probably was, but then this happened:
She put down the container and with the hand that still dangled the cigarette, reached into an overflowing trash bin that contained Covid masks and diapers and Covid masks that doubled as diapers, and retrieved a perfectly intact hot dog with mustard, on a perfect bun, and took the perfect bite(or two) before continuing dancing to ABBA.
I guess that’s big city life for you.
You can’t get an Uber if you’re overheated, but you can observe a nut job getting her fill of nitrates.
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