Madison Park Is For Bitches

A few days ago, I went to Madison Park to do some research for a class assignment. I'm taking this hippie-dippy class called "Reading the City" and I was supposed to ask someone in the area about what they thought of Madison Park and write it all down in a notebook so that I can write an essay about it. I should also note, I didn't elect to analyze Madison Park, it was picked for me.

I'm still having eye problems in my right eye so I wore glasses there. When I wear glasses all I want to do is go home and read a book because I hate having to look at the world through rectangular boxes and I think I look like a freakshow. Some can pull off glasses, but they make me want to stare at the ground and not talk to anyone. So I'm walking around, squinting, holding a notebook and everyone is of course avoiding me because they're afraid I'm going to ask them if they have five minutes for the environment or if they know Dick Cheney is actually the devil and pollution is really dust in the air (LaaaaRouche! God bless you!) But no no no, I'm just a nice student looking for someone to interview, you don't have to look at me like that.

Everyone looked at me like that. The little old ladies with the cake-y maybelline (was she born with it? A hell no!) powdered all over their faces and the smudged bright red lipstick. Of course their chiwawas growled at me as I passed by their table outside the Madison Park Bakery. Hated. Just for being a youngin' carrying a notebook.

And you know what, I hate you too Madison Park. Phew. Oh man. I feel so much better just writing that. I do, though. I hate your stupid small American flags, and old-timey signs. I hate all those shiny new cars you drive around and keep really shiny. Where are your "Dog is my co-pilot" bumper stickers? Are you even native Seattleites!? BLOOD CHECK!

Seriously, did someone just carve out a piece of Laguna Beach and plop it in Seattle by the water? Why are y'all so uppity? Okay okay, I should explain my anger more fully. It's not just about the chiwawas, those are everywhere...

So I go into Madison Park Bakery. It's warm and smells like butter so I was naturally attracted. I sit down and two old women come in. They look at me, directly, in my squinting blurry eyes, and then they leave. Just like that. A look and g'bye.

Just then the woman at the counter asks me, loudly, if I'd like to order anything.

"No thanks, I'm waiting for my friend," I say, probably in a high pitched voice because I feel nervous and rejected after the thing with the old women.

A pause, and then I decide to ask the woman if she'd like to be interviewed, because, you know, she's there and I'm there and she's a living breathing person and everyone else in this shitferbrain area thinks I'm going to rape their children.

"Hi. I'm doing this report about Madison Park," I say to her, "and I was wondering if you'd be interested in telling me a bit about what it's like living here."

The woman looks kinda flustered, which is weird. It's quite a simple question. Just say yes or leave me the fuck alone, right?

"Okay," she says, but in a way that isn't really okay at all.

I hesitate. "So how long have you been living here?"

"Well, I don't actually live here," she responds, and then says, "I'm in a bit of a rush. You know those customers that came in and looked at you? Yeah, they were going to buy something here but they left because you were sitting at the table where they wanted to sit. That's why I asked you if you wanted anything to eat."

"Oh. UH. WHa?"

Long, terribly horribly awkward pause.

"You know what, I think this interview is over," I say, sticking my notebook under my arm. Then I leave.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

First of all, there were two chairs right next to me where the old hags could have sat. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK. I'm a human being. That's all I could say to myself as I was leaving the restaurant. I am a human being.

See, Madison Park is a terrible terrible place, as you can tell from this one interaction. Let's make a huge generalization and just proclaim the area hazardous to all sensitive interesting people.

For some sick cruel reason (and do NOT say it's because of the 'whole gay thing') I didn't leave after that. I went next door and stared at three hundred dollar china in an antique store. For like 10 minutes. Then I left.