The problem with going wiiild is that there is never anyone around to go wiiild over. I mean, there is no one that I would ever want to hit on at the Cha Cha. Or at the Capitol Club. Or at the Comet. In fact, I might be friends with the only three tolerable straight men in Seattle. Or maybe I'm just getting too old for this stuff?
But the wildness was fun anyway. Monkey, Birdgyrl and I looked hottt, and that was what was important. If you don't already own a pair of red pants, I highly recommend picking some up.
I pretty much spent the rest of my weekend with Danny, who is straight and so much more than tolerable. Yesterday we went kayaking on Lake Union, and oy, it hurts. Hurts so good, yes, but still, the hurting. Ouch.
You see a whole different Seattle from the water. Beautiful houses floating all around, frat boys on motorboats spraying tour boats with hoses (for no discernible reason except that they were frat boys and it seemed like a good idea to them), other kayakers, jetskiers (meh), sailboats, the water sparkling, people cavorting in the lakefront parks, the beautiful city skyline in the background, etc. etc.
One of the things we talked about while we rowed (and rowed and rowed) was that you could potentially live here for years and never see whole ways of life, like the Water World life that I saw for the first time yesterday. In the places that we came from---Albequerque, Alabama---everyone has pretty much the same house, same yard, same weekly trip to Wal-Mart. But Seattle is a city of a million separate but intersecting universes. It's fascinating.
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Friendster is so weird. I'm extremely popular with the male, 40ish, balding-with-bad-facial-hair crowd. Other masculine demographics that I score big with:
--The homeless guys who hang out outside the QFC.
They think I'm very pretty, even after I tell them that I don't have any change today.
--gay men
--those guys on Pine St. who referred to BG, Monkey and me as "Charlie's Angels" on Friday night.
At least, I assume that was meant to be complimentary. Somehow we decided that of the three, I was Lucy Liu. Still not clear on how the redhead got to be the Asian girl, but I think it had something to do with bra size.
--All the scary drunk guys hanging out at the Blue Moon during Danny's gig Saturday night. I had a lot of conversations that went like this:
Wild-Eyed Guy: [stares at me]
Me: Um, I'm sorry, did I take your seat?
WEG: No. How ya doin'?
Me: I'm fine thanks. You?
WEG: [long pause . . .] I been drinking. [another long, thoughtful pause] Yep. I'm drunk.
I also had to defend Danny's honor at one point, but that's another story.
--my ex-boyfriends
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