(excellent photo by Jeremy Hurd used without permission, hopefully there’s forgiveness)
Ok, ok, I’ll admit it. Seattle has its charms. For one thing, I seriously miss The Stranger. The Village Voice just doesn’t have the same unified snarky voice and dedicated approach to local news. Sure I can read it online, but I love pulling it’s vibrant cover done by a local artist out of the box and then sitting down to devour it in one sitting with coffee. Sometimes Savage Love first, sometimes Last Days first.
I miss spaciousness. Even the major drug store chains in Manhattan are packed in with tiny little inventories and barely enough aisle space for two people to brush past.
I miss beers for five dollars or less. A seven or eight dollar pint of beer is super normal here.
I miss the hills. It’s so cool to be on Capitol Hill and look out down Denny and see Queen Anne Hill off in the distance.
I miss everyone looking for a roommate, instead of everyone looking for a place. When I tell people I’m looking for a place they say, “Are you looking for fee or no fee?” Like, that’s a thing! Many apartments here are brokered. Like, what kind of question is that? I’m like: I want an apartment. If someone’s going to ransom it then let’s hear how dear the ransom is!
I even miss the stupid fire dancing and burlesque everywhere. I’m sure they have that in NYC, but in Seattle all you have to do is play an Aerosmith song and girls suddenly are wearing pasties and spinning fire.