Aric had a short layover in Seattle on New Year’s Adam’s Eve, and I wanted to make sure he had an essential Seattle experience. He had never been to Seattle before, and there were certainly more obvious places to take him that may have been just as fun, but I ended up taking him to the Pacific Inn Pub on the edge of Wallingford. I hadn’t been there in over 10 years, and Aric was my excuse to go back.
It was great, of course. We remembered Shanghai over a couple of pints and a kick ass basket of fish and chips.
I hardly ever get out to the pub nowadays, and the beers have all changed since I left; I asked them if they had Mac and Jack’s and the dude said, no, “we don’t have any ambers.” Which was just an amazing miraculous Seattle thing to say. They had a full bar, some great local ales on draught, but none of them are ambers. This is the way Seattlites get a reputation for being snobs; by being non pretentious about a totally arbitrary constraint; steering you toward a more narrow set of obscure (yet awesome) options. I ended up with a Manny’s; Aric had Diamond Knot’s Industrial Ho Ho Ho. Who needs ambers?
The fish and chips there were amazing, they use a crumb coating instead of a beer batter, which I appreciate very much. The fish was fresh and unctuous but, just like 10 years ago, the distinguishing factor is the herbiness of the crumb coat.
Anyway, it was great to see Aric, to talk about the old days and wild times in Shanghai. America is a comfy and familiar, but I do long for the frivolous, exotic adventures of expat life… only without the rat race aspect.
New Year’s Adam
There was a snack at a kaiten sushi spot with H, a couple spine crackings at the chiropractor, and Vamola rehearsal at Jamtown, and post practice pints at Fiddler’s Inn (Mac and Jack’s Cascadian Dark).
Then I got a text from JF saying “Coming? We need you!” I found my way down to the karaoke room at YenWor Village to find JF, MD, and JF’s colleagues cutting loose… it was so good to see. I don’t want to get too detail oriented, but JF kept baby out of the corner and sang Push It. We were both annoyed that it seems grown-up life in Seattle is a bore; I proposed another karaoke warning for next Friday. One of her coworkers was all over it, and shouted “we deserve this!” over the singer, who might have been singing “The Internet Is For Porn.”
We do. We deserve to cut lose. Regularly.