Saturday breakfasts. Waking up late, taking two hours (sometimes longer) to make a smorgasbord of a breakfast with my friends, sitting down to eat only to realize we’ve made a veritable ton of food, eating most of said food, and then doing nothing for the rest of the afternoon because we’re too full.
Driving on the I-5 bridge across Lake Union at 8:30am on weekdays. As much as I hated commuting, the view of Gas Works and Lake Union and downtown Seattle and the Space Needle to my right, and Portage Bay and UW and (on a clear day) the mountains in the distance on my left, was absolutely gorgeous and something I looked forward to every day.
Stoop nights. Spending an entire evening sitting on the stoop with a gin & tonic in hand, engaging in excellent conversation until standing up became more of an aspiration than a plausibility.
Dick’s Drive-In. I was telling someone in Amsterdam about it the other day, about how I could get a deliciously greasy cheeseburger for $1.65, about how my friends and I would occasionally walk there for an inebriated fourth meal on weeknights, about the innuendo that would inevitably ensue whenever Dick’s was mentioned. I’ve yet to find anything comparable in Amsterdam.
Being able to read food labels in the grocery store. Since I can’t read Dutch, I rely solely on the pictures of the food on the labels to determine what I’m buying now.
Friday nights at Two Beers. Where Dan was always pouring and my beers were always free, and there were peanuts in bowls just waiting to be cracked and eaten, and we were always the last ones to leave.
Love you and miss you, Seattle.