So I got stuck in Olympia with the kids at a late hour. Don’t ask me to tell you why or how, it’s a dull and yet painful story. I thought we’d have to stay (overnight or at least a long long time) and I was kind of panicked. I called people we knew in Oly but couldn’t get a ride. I kind of agonized and wondered around and bought things at Target and got the kids food while I went totally Flyhead about my predicament and couldn’t think straight. Let me tell you, those who know me probably perceive me as level-headed in person most the time, even when things are intense or when people around me are falling apart, but when it’s down to just me and the kids are involved in some way that seems unsafe or weird there can become a point where I get Crazy-Eye and my brain stutters and shudders. I’m surprised I wasn’t arrested on suspicion of shoplifting, I mean I was twitchy as hell checking out (with, I’ll point out, a credit card I wasn’t entirely sure would go through). Kids and I ended up boarding the last bus downtown because, where Target is, there’s nothing there you’d want to spend time with.
Lakefair downtown, things were a bit intense. The bus flew down the hill and I perceived the wondrous lights of a large carnival (large by my bumpkin standards anyway) so I knew where to take the three of us, for the Now anyway. I had only a few dollars cash – otherwise I would have dropped my rent money on two bracelets so they could go on every ride they qualified for. As it was they still had fun; watching a breakdance group and running about while I phoned some more. I sat by the lakeside vicariously enjoying their fierce little lives.
After finally getting ahold of Ralph and arranging a meetup I had enough cash for one carnival “ride” for the kids. Understand this was like, seven dollars I think, for the kids to go in this kiddo funhouse (their choice). The local who’d been hired on was amiable enough to conversation, or was rather a captive audience, to be more accurate. Turns out he’s a musician and living like a sardine can in a rental with others, trying to get by, thinking about going to school, not sure what he’ll do next week for employment. We talked music for some time and my feelers went up, as Ralph is still trying to get connected with Oly musicians and the fellow sounded talented or at least versed in many interesting instruments.
The kids played and played (bless this young man for not being a dick) but soon it was time to go. I sat my bundles of Target Fuckery and a McDonalds bag and my purse and whatever in the grass, and took out my card and wrote down my husband’s name and circled a number and wrote “Music / Helsing” (the latter re: the K Records festival each year). By this time two huffy carnival pros – that is, the fellows who travel with the outfit, not spareboard – were all over the young fellow and hustling him to close up. One of them was yelling into a walkie talkie, “I have some real important stuff going on,” and then proceeded to shout-command the young man in a brusque and not-entirely-thorough way. And shit, I get it, these people work hard, I’ve worked in that kind of scene, so I just slipped the card into the young man’s pocket (unobtrusively enough, or so I thought) and said, “Good luck,” (meaning, with everything) and then –
the guy who’d been yelling into the walkie talkie jerked his head at me and said, “Jesus,” with all the disgust you can manage mustered in a voice. I seriously wish you could have heard it. You’d think I’d taken a shit on the green. I am not sure what he meant but, I haven’t been addressed with that much vitriol and hate for quite some time. It was pretty busy and I had no immediate response to being perceived as A Piece Of Shit For Reasons Mysterious so I merely bundled up the kids and the bags and gently floated across the grass, trailing the final partiers fleeing off to bars (Oly was rowdy tonight, for reals).
Our rendezvous was with Ralph was scheduled for Sizizis (which, I found out, is closing down Sunday – boo!). Walking up 4th it was so many people and shouting and cutting eyes and the smell of booze and cigarettes and weed and all kinds of amorous behavior and fights and weird energy. And yes. A few people who returned my smile. The kids were great, of course, because they are tiger cubs running on sidewalks. We got to our coffee shop eventually (it really was a nice night for a walk). While I waited in line for my drink the kids got something cold from the cooler, grabbed a table, and set up chess. I stared a bit and wondered where they’d learned to play. I was feeling more collected, or so I thought. So I’m standing there and an amiable large man turns around and says to me, “Hey, do you remember the name of the boat from Moby Dick?” and I respond, “Uh, the Minnow… the S.S. Minnow.” then to my horror I realize my mistake and shout, “No! The Pequod!”
Oh good sweet baby Jesus in his golden fleece diapers.
At about 11:40 PM Ralph rescued me and I gave him the americano I’d purchased him and I got my ass out of Dodge. –
but, the kids had a glorious time.
shit – sounds like a crappy night with some goodness to help you through it.
there is no way i am usually able to offer a drive from Oly to your place – BUT i would totally have brought ya’ll up to our place for the night!
if ya want my number please email me and let me know – just in case ;P
The Lakefair thing just made me laugh a little (though I am also cringing at your experience and wanting to kick that stupid idiot’s ass). I remember that every year I would unexplainably expect a bunch of ‘Greeners,’ local artisans, hippie musicians and the like to be down there – but it would always end up being the *whisper* ‘folks from Lacey…” (as we referred to them), and so I can’t help but feel bad about the crappy night but also have a little chuckle because I tried time and time again to enjoy myself at Lakefair but never had much luck. [I always really enjoy Bumpershoot…but I think that’s quite a drive from Hoquiam (though probably about the same distance as PDX?) and it’s also a $35 dollar ticket (I think kids under 10/11 are free)…but that gets you to all the shows on the mainstage that day, so I always just figured it was worth a good concert and I got many more out of it. We just had our Blues Festival here – which is only 2 cans of food to get into and it’s lovely except I hate the festival garbage and lawn tramp that goes on, plus I am hating crowds more and more as I get older.]
I really miss the Oly that I grew up in – one in which the Capital Theater Backstage was functioning and Nirvana, Fugazi, POD, etc…were all $5 bucks, or whatever you could manage, on a weekend night, kids were jumping around like crazy back there, smoking pot in the upstairs rooms and everyone would pile up and sleep in the gazebo at the park in the middle of the town like big grunge hippies. Thekla was open and you could go celebrate homosexual awesomeness while dancing to some good house vibes and playing pool and my sister had graffitied the entire side wall with a huge beautiful bubbly mermaid. All the homeless kids hung out at The Reef or another coffee shop just down the street and the waitress would bitch at us but give us free coffee if we could come up with enough money for a sandwich or a plate of fries. The owner at the other place would post our demented and dark artwork on her walls, much to the horror of regular paying customers, who eventually stopped coming and so out of business the place went.
Eventually, things started to grow, they expanded housing into Lacey and downtown changed. The cultural-clash (for lack of a better word) shut Thekla down (‘we don’t want no homosexual bar around here’) and turned it into a top-40 R&B danceclub that served patrons who would drive down from Tacoma as well as a few members from the local gangs (which began to grow too) who started up some pretty nasty fights there. The gazebo and park were closed to all after 10 pm due to gang fights and “families” that started taking it over as territory and barking whenever old-skool Olympians would try and set up for a picnic.
At this point, I am no less than horrified at what has occurred on the East side of the town…the leveling of miles worth of beautiful forest to put up strip malls, a block wide and long Cabela’s complete with a stuffed polar bear in the lobby and guns to feed everyone in town, and lots of cheap housing for the military overflow from Fort Lewis (due to the non-war, of course).
There is still a little sanctuary on the West side, around the Evergreen campus and in some of the downtown neighborhoods. The actual downtown seems to be in disrepair and unable to hold new struggling businesses for very long. Batdorf and Bronson (my fav coffee spot) has gone from a small, elitist little hallway cafe to a huge bustling room that serves a much larger population and so I suppose that’s awesome. The Reef has completely overhauled itself, but as my sister says, a place is always better if they go from serving bad coffee to deliver plates full of waffles with steaming fried chicken on top. She’s wise…that one.
If we were still there – I woulda picked you guys up and brought you over for some good food and rest. If you ever find yourself in PDX, lemme know. We manage to squish into 750 square feet, but I think we could manage to squish you in for a night or so, even if it requires a basement stay, especially so that you could go on some fun rides. Btw – It sounds to me like Asshole of the Night was feeling powerless and so felt the need to exert some control over New Local Funhouse Rookie and then became upset when he thought that NLFR was getting Hot Out-of-towner Mama’s phone number in his pocket despite his attempt at making him feel inferior…but that’s complete speculation.
Aww gee, despite the fact that I live in Lacey (nowhere else to live close enough to post that’s big enough and still fits the army housing allowance) I’d have come down and given you a ride, regardless of the distance. Plus I only live 20 minutes or less from the Target on Harrison and am always willing to help out a fellow mom. Just saying. Email me if you want my #.
The scene in the Target is one I have starred in before, for sure. As I grow older (the longer I live in Berkeley?), I find I am more and more sensitive to big, bright, overwhelming stores that have EVERYTHING in them. Costco, Target, etc. I freak the heck out and I turn into an altered me. The whole thing turns into a POV shot in one of those movies where the protagonist is either really high or has a mental illness or disability. And yeah, the credit card you’re not quite sure of? So been there, at the checkstand, with a pile of groceries and no working card. Like, a lot of times. Thanks for sharing on both counts.
The guy at the fair, the boss or whatever he was? Homeslice was hell of *jealous* because he thought a hot mom was hitting on the other dude. You know this.
Ladies, thanks for weighing in and I owe some commentary – I’ll get you back soon, promise!
I would have gladly picked you all up, if only I wasn’t 3000 miles away, that is. This story sounds like so, so many from my own childhood, or hell, even more recent than that. The credit card, the stores/places/people. Yup. Glad you all made it home safely and soundly.