Seattle Afternoon

Seattle Afternoon: How not to find your way home in Seattle...

We wandered around, going up and down stairs, just a little disappointed that so many of the shops were already closed. Nonetheless, the atmosphere was open and inviting. Part of the floor has been resurfaced with a smooth, polished wood veneer. You could probably dance on it like at a dance studio or club. But the shops themselves look like leftovers from a distant era. Many people say that Seattle was actually settled and colonized in the 1960s by a mysterious tribe called "Hippies". These Hippies brought with them a relaxed, freewheeling lifestyle that hasn't quite faded away.

We came to an old-fashioned magic shop and I ducked inside to see what they were selling. Alas! the front the store looked more interesting to me than the inside, which was filled with typical modern illusionist tricks and tools that you can probably find anywhere. I was hoping for a more nostalgic collection of paraphernalia. But perhaps I was mistaken and should have spent more time there. I was reminded of the arcade in the Tom Hanks movie Big, where the mechanical fortune teller dispensed magical cards.

I thought the cell phone picture would look better for these window displays than it turned out. The Public Market is a collector's haven for all sorts of knick knacks. Bearing in mind that Seattle is probably where all geeks and nerds have to check in before they die and go on to their final rewards (or, "the next level"), there were several shops that had a distinct appeal to gamers and fan boys. I mean, some of the figurines would be easily recognizable to anyone who has collected fantasy role-playing and related figurines and collectibles at conventions and renaissance fairs.

I wanted to ask Eric if Seattle has a large gaming community, but I was afraid he'd say something like, Oh, they draft newcomers every second Sunday. I'm not ready to make gaming a regular part of my life again, although I had fun back in my college days. He did mention there are quite a few science fiction conventions in the area. Apparently, you can find a convention or gathering of some sort just about every month. I think he was hinting I might want to try to get on the guest list for a few of them. Maybe. First I'll need to find a place to stay. Crash space at a con is not homelike for me at all.

One neat shop advertises that it's for "big boys" who never grew up. I was about to pass it up when I realized that my girlfriend -- who likes all things Asian -- would want to see a picture of the Japanese armor on display. It probably didn't hurt that Homer Simpson was standing between the armors. Doh! In another corner of the shop we saw a huge replica of Han Solo frozen in carbonite and an R2-D2 standee (looked like mint condition, but I don't know how old it was). There is some glare from the store's window in the image. The shop was closed. You can see, I think, the waterfront through the windows behind the merchandise.

Our last stop was at a tea shop Eric thought he remembered from previous visits. The Public Market is large enough that he stopped to ask directions, and a thoughtful Seattlite pointed us in the right direction. I did stop and buy a large ceramic shot glass with hibiscus blossoms on it as a gift for the lady. The shop owner was Japanese, so she would have loved meeting him. She loves all things Asian....

The tea shop is well worth visiting. They easily have over 200 teas. My girlfriend is a tea fiend and she visits Teavana in Houston as often as possible. She has introduced me to teas whose names I cannot pronounce. What can we do for you? one of the clerks asked me. I need a tea, I said. An exotic, Asian tea that one is not likely to find in Houston. Okay, that's a tall order, since Houston has a large Asian population, too. Still, the other clerk promptly brought four jars for me to sample. One of them had a huge price per ounce, and it was a combination of Jasmine Tea and something else. I was sorely tempted to buy a small package, but I want to bring back a substantial supply.

I did the only thing any reasonable man could do in such a situation. I used my lifeline to call for help. What sort of tea should I pick? I asked. Just get me a nice one I haven't tried before, she said. And women wonder why men are at such a loss when we don't remember what they said two months ago. She recalls everything I have ever said to her during the course of our relationship. She reminds me at the most inopportune moments that I said such-and-such on the third Wednesday of the second month after we met. Honey, I've slept since then.

I did my best. I chose a tea from China, a black tea where all the leaves were hand-rolled into little bell-shaped balls. The clerks told me you take the paper off and place the tea in steaming water. As the tea steeps, it unfolds into an almost blossom-like shape. Some hand-rolled Asian teas do fold out into flower-patterns. I bought what I thought might be a month's supply of tea and thanked the clerks. Unfortunately, the store doesn't have a Web site. I gave her the receipt with the shop's name and phone number so she could order more teas whenever she wanted to. I'll try to remember to ask her for the information and update this page after I return to Seattle.

We had had a busy afternoon. Although I really didn't get to see as much of the city as I wished I could have, I needed to be up for an important phone call early the next morning. Going out and finding the party spots in Seattle was not a good idea at the time. Eric drove me back to the Mayflower Park Hotel (without getting lost) and dropped me off at the valet station. We said our good-byes, he wished me luck with the job hunting, and he offered me words of encouragement.

Before returning to my room to collapse for the night, I went down to the Mayflower's world-famous Andaluca restaurant. I had eaten breakfast there in the morning and the staff had proven to be friendly, courteous, and professional. They don't miss a trick. The orange juice is fresh squeezed every morning. The rye bread is fresh-baked. The hummis is hand-made. The food is out of this world. The server took sympathy on me because I couldn't eat an entire meal. I'm just not able to pack away the food like I used to before my surgery. Which, I suppose, is a good thing. My girlfriend has been feeding me like there is no tomorrow.

Well, I suppose there isn't a tomorrow for us. I got the job and will move to Seattle, but she'll be staying behind. You can't win 'em all. I took her down to a local photo studio the other day and we sat for some pictures. Not the famous "Michael Martinez photography", but just a place where we could create some memories. We spent the day driving around Houston, doing errands and having a blast. I'll get to spend one more evening with her this weekend, and then I have to leave. I don't know if I'll go back to that tea shop. There may be more memories there than are good for my heart. Seattle is a beautiful city and I am looking forward to making a life there. But truth be told, if I could have stayed in Houston, I would have.