It was a really fun vacation. We got to see all the cool places, people, and eateries from Kade's mission, plus hit up Portland and Seattle while we were up there.
Portland was even dreamier than I thought it would be,
but even though I was so excited to see Seattle
I don't think I ever want to go back.
Every vacation has a crazy story, right?
Well, Kade and I had just gotten lunch from a little Mongolian food stand in the farmer's market and decided to sit outside on a bench in the light rain to eat it. So, our heads were bowed over our little paper cartons of food, and at the top of my vision I see some old, ruddy brown shoes tripping toward us. I chance a quick glance at the man wearing them--dirty cargo pants, tattered plaid shirt, long greasy hair pulled into a pony, exposing a black eye and bruised cheekbone, a bottle of Arrowhead water to his lips. He stared back at me. I ducked my head back down, hoping he'd go away soon.
"You know, once you've been drinking so much even water can get you drunk. Did you know that?"
He was talking to me, but Kade answered him coolly,
"Nope, we sure didn't know that, thanks."
All the while, I kept my head down, not wanting to look at this creep--I was more nervous than a cricket on a railroad track*.
Kade, however, had dealt with a few drunks in his time, and knew exactly how to handle the situation. He talked straightforward to the guy, treating him as if he were being anything but crazy.
The guy left after a few minutes, and we made a break for it.
We started walking toward the thick of the market crowds, when all the sudden
he's back.
Right behind us.
"You know, I commanded the rain to stop, but it hasn't yet."
Kade, cool as ever, but now a little more nervous as he tries to keep the guy from getting close to me.
(Apparently, the guy was basically on top of Kade as he fought to get between us. Meanwhile, I'm scoping out which stores to dart into if worse comes to worse.)
"You know, I'm a prophet. Well, I'm a babylonian prophet killer..."
I can hear Kade behind me carrying on this strange and terrifying conversation with him while my brain begins to fire up the flight-or-fight mode.
The rest of what the drunk guy says is a blur, and my only thoughts are
please please please please please please please please please please please please please
don't let us die in Seattle.
don't let this creep touch me,
don't let him go berserk and try to fight Kade
please let us get back home.
I miss Utah!
Luckily, after what seemed like forever, the guy says
"Ok, well, you have a good day"
Turns around, leaves,
and before he can come back, we book it into a crowd and try to make ourselves as lost as possible.
A few minutes later, when we're finishing our lunches on a bench overlooking the water, neither of us are very excited to be there anymore
and we decide we've had enough of Seattle.
We watch our backs the whole way back toward the reek of urine emanating from the ten dollar parking lot where our car sits.
Thankfully unscathed.
And once we maneuver our way through the city and back toward the freeway,
we each let out a massive sigh of relief.
Give me a home, where the buffalo roam,
where the deer and the antelope play,
where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
and you rarely have to worry about lunatic drunks or whether the streets are one-way or regular and where there are relatively clean streets and people do their business in toilets and not just anywhere they please.
But, sadly, probably no one in Utah can tickle the ivories like this homeless dude.
And even though the whole trip was super fun, the weather was incredible, and you've never tasted such delicious wild blackberries, or had such a fun spur-of-the-moment Sunday dinner with such hilarious people, or had milk for breakfast that was straight out of the cow,
We're glad to be back in our mountain home so dear.
*My friend Alaina once said this about having to use the bathroom. "I have to pee like a cricket on a railroad track!" and I just have always thought it was so funny!
No comments:
Post a Comment