Sunday, 8am, woke up hungry. The refrigerator was empty, like the rest of the apartment. I needed to feed. Internet showed the way. So I braved into Seattle’s cool morning and find Bauhaus Books and Coffee. The street sign said, “less cold than elsewhere.” Ah. Sunday morning cannot be much better than a cup of good coffee, a big and tasty muffin, and the cartoon pages of Seattle Times.
Isn’t it great that so many stores allow pets? Even Metro buses are OK with them.
I grew up surrounded by rice paddies, trees, and farm animals. When I was 10, we moved to the dazzles of a big city. I remembered the thrill when I got my first wheels, a beat-up 100cc motorcycle that was the coolest thing ever. Then I emigrated to American suburban to raise a family. Now the city seems to be calling me. This one-bedroom apartment gives me a 10-minute commute, in public transportation. I keep a pair of office shoes and change into walking boots for the road. Of course I would have a light water-resistant jacket and the iPod.
The Westlake shopping area is kind of like San Francisco’s Union Square. Down the street comes the famed Pike Place Market, a tourist attraction and a local favorite too. The labyrinth excites new explorers and makes old acquaintance at home. There is enough foot traffic for every specialty stores to thrive. Their uniqueness, in turn, brings more foot traffic.
I have liked Seattle for years but couldn’t find the reasons. I think her size is just right: large enough for standardized services and conveniences that come with the economy of scale, yet small enough for characters and charm to survive the great equalization.
Come to think of it, that describes my new gig here too.
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