Day 1: Garlic Fries and Cher’s Ass

The parking structures at the Seattle airport look like the staging site of an alien invasion. I seriously thought some kind of hive mind must be breeding from the center of Sea Tac and that I’d be lucky to get clear of the city before the first strike.

Samantha greeted me in baggage claim with a hug that corrected whatever spinal difficulties I brought with me and off we went in her Silver Toyota 4-Runner–the beginning of a quest to cram in as much city and friendship as could be bled from three days of paid time off.

Boeing came up on our left at about the same moment that a very strange, bulbous, green and white test plane came into view in the sky above us. Samantha began a catalog of business and industry in Seattle while I gawked at how green and gorgeous everything was and before I knew it we were heading into the heart of the city.

We did a quick driving tour of downtown Seattle (my first glimpse of Pike Place and the Sound), swung past her condo, attempted to count the Starbucks franchises and then meandered our way up to the little burb of Freemont and Anita’s adorable, early 19th Century home.

After we unloaded, Sam fiddled around and took some phone calls and I wandered out front where I noticed a familiar face–at least from photographs–as Jenn was in the driveway next door frantically hauling stuff out of her car. She was attempting to unload enough crap that Anhl could fit in an actual seat for our trip to the Mariner’s game later that afternoon.

We did the obligatory, “Hey! I know you!” routine and then before I knew what was happening I was helping unload the car and making appreciative oooh ahhh sounds at the salvaged yard sale items she’d procured and her latest decoupage art projects.

Sam came out and rescued grabbed me and we headed off for lunch. A short walk brought us to Persimmon, which was closed. Boo. So we decided on a cuban-style joint called Paseo (sp) and carried home a bag of black beans and pork, which we ate on the breakfast bar in Anita’s sunny kitchen while we mapped out our afternoon/evening.

After lunch we headed to the University of Washington campus to pick Anita up from work and after hugs and introductions we headed off to Safeco Field for baseball. During the drive downtown it became clear to me that we were not JUST going to go watch baseball but were in fact on our way to induldge in a concession stand dinner that largely consisted of GARLIC FRIES!

Prior to our departure we loaded a pre-packed sherpa bag into the truck. The bag consisted of just about every possible item of cold weather gear you can possibly imagine, except socks, and while it was sunny and gorgeous out that afternoon, it was not especially warm. So Anita spent a good portion of the first few innings doling out sweaters and blankets to freezing, skinny girls. I was of course, perfectly warm.

We had amazing seats in row 17 behind first base. Anita and Sam packed baseball mitts in order to guard, Jenn, Anhl and myself from foul balls that might come hurling in our direction–sadly, none did. Between innings we took turns wandering the stadium for garlic fries and Mariner dogs. And here is where I tell a tale that will get me into trouble, because after Anita and I returned to our seats with loaded trays of dogs and fries, Sam got up to run to the restroom and my hot dog went crashing to the ground.

The ensuing scheming to replace Samantha’s hotdog with the one that hit the ground was hilarious, right down to the moment she returned, took a big bite of her dirty dog and exclaimed, YUM, hotdog! to the point I nearly peed my pants and gave the whole thing away. But I feel compelled to say that none of it was my idea.

Halfway through the game Anita pointed out that Ichiro has a nice ass and that it’s kinda reminiscent of Samantha’s, a notion Sam found puzzling. So I suggested that we just google Ichiro’s Ass when we get home and see if we could acquire comparison photos.

And of course, the minute we walked in the door, after stopping in to the Market Time grocery for breakfast staples and beer, Anita launched a browser and immediately googled Ichiro’s Ass.

Google’s response? “Did you mean, Cher’s Ass?”

At which point we all burst into hysterical laughter.

A while later, Sam kicked off her boots and propped her feet up on Anita’s lap to reveal a hole in her sock. After discussing the darning options for repairing the hole, Anita, in good Quaker form says, “Dear Lord! Please fix Samantha’s hole!” To which Sam responded, “Did you mean Cher’s hole?” And the evening went downhill from there because we are all five years old, really.

Next up:

Day 2: Wash, Then Dance.