Catalog of encounters on my way home from work
I've been doing this commute for a little over a year now, and I've gotten familiar with the people patterns of my walk from 9th and Stewart to 3rd and Pine. On these walks, I'll typically see the following:
The cellist playing awesome classical music at the entrance to Pacific Place mall, where the acoustics can't be beat. Either him or the earnest singer-songwriter with his guitar, alternately playing his own music and classic, familiar covers.
The steel drum player hammering out calypso or reggae, accompanied by a back-up audio track.
The twenty-something canvassers looking for signatures and trying their charming best to stop passers-by.
The Women in Black who, every Thursday, stand vigil in Westlake Park to distribute their flyers in solidarity with war victims, the missing, the distressed, women in trouble all over the world.
The drug traffickers, pot smokers, and street artists on the block between 4th and 3rd who will leave you alone if you leave them alone.
The one or two crazy homeless people who hang out by the bus stop on 3rd.
It's like getting to know the traffic patterns on 520: once you've done it a while, it becomes the thing you just do without thinking about it overmuch.
The cellist playing awesome classical music at the entrance to Pacific Place mall, where the acoustics can't be beat. Either him or the earnest singer-songwriter with his guitar, alternately playing his own music and classic, familiar covers.
The steel drum player hammering out calypso or reggae, accompanied by a back-up audio track.
The twenty-something canvassers looking for signatures and trying their charming best to stop passers-by.
The Women in Black who, every Thursday, stand vigil in Westlake Park to distribute their flyers in solidarity with war victims, the missing, the distressed, women in trouble all over the world.
The drug traffickers, pot smokers, and street artists on the block between 4th and 3rd who will leave you alone if you leave them alone.
The one or two crazy homeless people who hang out by the bus stop on 3rd.
It's like getting to know the traffic patterns on 520: once you've done it a while, it becomes the thing you just do without thinking about it overmuch.