me too!

i don't get machete queries on my commute, but i do see LOTS OF RUMMIES. mostly sleeping in doorways at the early hour of my commute, (9 am), but they can be interesting, talking about who got all shitty and arrested last night, who's out at the 50th street off ramp--a bit of a commute from ballard--for tonight's cardboard duty. especially the woman who looks to be in her late sixties. she usually sleeps in the same doorway next to the bay theatre and is often blinking herself awake when i ride by to get my coffee. while i certainly feel bad that her bedroom is so public and non cat-friendly, i can't help but laugh just a bit. no one sleeps next to me, so i don't know what i look like waking up, but i'm sure it's remarkably similar. and before you charge me with having a dystopic outlook or a lack of empathy (or is it sympathy? i can never keep 'em straight), remember that ballard is usually one of the most temparate places on earth. rarely does it freeze, and aside from the late july heat, rarely does the mercury (or alcohol, since that's supposedly more accurate and certainly more apropos given the scene) rise above 85. it's probly a bit better than living in some coldwater flat in pasaic, nj. one just has to deal with the audience, and given how most of the rummies behave in ballard, they seem quite happy to have an audience. out front of the shop yesterday at opening, there was a woman carrying a pocket dog in one hand and a cat in the other yelling--not arguing with, just yelling a conversation--at her spouse--i think; they're always together--who i initially took to be far up the block, but who was ACTUALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. it was so loud i thought the hindenburg was going down on the corner.