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A curious moment
It was raining in Seattle tonight, which is not out of the ordinary this time of year, although the rain was falling particularly hard.
I was bookhunting again after work, this time just walking to stores downtown before bussing home. I went to the Barnes&Noble at Pacific Place; no luck. Went to the Borders on 4th Ave near Westlake and found two books I wanted. One, I had been specifically looking for, and had mentally cleared as "allowed to buy". The other, I had seen before, decided I would wait to buy it either used or after it came out in paperback, but after I sat there reading it for ten minutes decided that it was silly to continue doing that -- always finding it in a store, reading it for ten minutes, and saying "I'll buy you later, my precious" -- the opportunity cost of time wasted per extra dollar spent on the new book just isn't worth it.
Unfortunately, after having come to this decision, I went downstairs to the cash register, and waited patiently to pay for my books. It was 7:32pm at this point, and I could have easily walked around the corner to catch the 5 bus at 7:40pm, had I actually been able to pay at that point.
And I waited some more. The lady in front of me was apparently unaware that there were two other desks in this Borders, conveniently labelled "Information", with attentive store clerks, so she didn't have to hold up the paying line in order to ask her questions. But even more surprising was that the store clerk appeared to not care about me or the other people waiting in line behind me. I knew that paying for my books would take approximately one minute.
At 7:37pm, with the same lady still up at the desk still asking about buying some magazines or whatever, I said, "Excuse me, is there another register? I'm about to miss my bus."
The clerk looked at me, annoyed, and grabbed a microphone and said, "Backup at the register, please."
I got out of the store at 7:40pm and ran down the street, only to see my bus go by.
At that moment I realized three things: 1) the next bus was in 20 minutes 2) I was hungry 3) standing outside at the bus stop in the rain was likely to damage my new shiny books despite the plastic bag.
So I went into the Subway by 3rd and Union and got a tuna sub and sat there eating it until it was time to go get my next bus.
I sat at a table by the door, which was open. Through the doorway, I looked outside at the street, in the dark city night, with the rain falling and the lights from the other shops and restaurants reflecting in the wet pavement and street. By this time of night, most people had found their way home, I suppose, so there was only an occasional bus, and sometimes a car or two, with a few people walking by.
It occurred to me that despite the city backdrop, the actual feel of the street was not the feeling you'd get of being a major city street. For 8pm on a weeknight, I could look outside and imagine myself being back in Northeast Philadelphia, easily, sitting at a sandwich shop on Bustleton Avenue. I could imagine it being a side street in a residential part of New York or Washington DC, or something in the style of Craig Street in Pittsburgh. But not a major city road.
And yet, this was 3rd street -- right by 3rd and Pike -- the closest thing Seattle has to a "main drag" in downtown.
I don't know exactly what I'm getting at here. I think I'm thirsting for a trip to Tokyo or New York or somewhere that I can be overwhelmed by city.
Or maybe I was just pissed off that I'd missed my bus, and was feeling impatient with the world.
I was bookhunting again after work, this time just walking to stores downtown before bussing home. I went to the Barnes&Noble at Pacific Place; no luck. Went to the Borders on 4th Ave near Westlake and found two books I wanted. One, I had been specifically looking for, and had mentally cleared as "allowed to buy". The other, I had seen before, decided I would wait to buy it either used or after it came out in paperback, but after I sat there reading it for ten minutes decided that it was silly to continue doing that -- always finding it in a store, reading it for ten minutes, and saying "I'll buy you later, my precious" -- the opportunity cost of time wasted per extra dollar spent on the new book just isn't worth it.
Unfortunately, after having come to this decision, I went downstairs to the cash register, and waited patiently to pay for my books. It was 7:32pm at this point, and I could have easily walked around the corner to catch the 5 bus at 7:40pm, had I actually been able to pay at that point.
And I waited some more. The lady in front of me was apparently unaware that there were two other desks in this Borders, conveniently labelled "Information", with attentive store clerks, so she didn't have to hold up the paying line in order to ask her questions. But even more surprising was that the store clerk appeared to not care about me or the other people waiting in line behind me. I knew that paying for my books would take approximately one minute.
At 7:37pm, with the same lady still up at the desk still asking about buying some magazines or whatever, I said, "Excuse me, is there another register? I'm about to miss my bus."
The clerk looked at me, annoyed, and grabbed a microphone and said, "Backup at the register, please."
I got out of the store at 7:40pm and ran down the street, only to see my bus go by.
At that moment I realized three things: 1) the next bus was in 20 minutes 2) I was hungry 3) standing outside at the bus stop in the rain was likely to damage my new shiny books despite the plastic bag.
So I went into the Subway by 3rd and Union and got a tuna sub and sat there eating it until it was time to go get my next bus.
I sat at a table by the door, which was open. Through the doorway, I looked outside at the street, in the dark city night, with the rain falling and the lights from the other shops and restaurants reflecting in the wet pavement and street. By this time of night, most people had found their way home, I suppose, so there was only an occasional bus, and sometimes a car or two, with a few people walking by.
It occurred to me that despite the city backdrop, the actual feel of the street was not the feeling you'd get of being a major city street. For 8pm on a weeknight, I could look outside and imagine myself being back in Northeast Philadelphia, easily, sitting at a sandwich shop on Bustleton Avenue. I could imagine it being a side street in a residential part of New York or Washington DC, or something in the style of Craig Street in Pittsburgh. But not a major city road.
And yet, this was 3rd street -- right by 3rd and Pike -- the closest thing Seattle has to a "main drag" in downtown.
I don't know exactly what I'm getting at here. I think I'm thirsting for a trip to Tokyo or New York or somewhere that I can be overwhelmed by city.
Or maybe I was just pissed off that I'd missed my bus, and was feeling impatient with the world.
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