I spent this last Friday recovering from my show in Spokane the night before at the Saranac Pub. The only trouble was: I had to recover on a bus, which I caught at 8:45 in the morning. I had managed to sleep for about 4 1/2 hours at my Grandma's house the night before, and she was kind enough to drive me to the bus station. I was on my way to Everett, which takes 6 1/2 hours by bus. I figured I'd be able to sleep more on the bus. I put on my sleeping mask and my headphones right after I boarded but, by the time we reached Wenatchee at noon, I hadn't slept at all.
Everyone got off the bus in Wenatchee for a half hour lunch break. The cafe inside the bus station did not looking promising. As an ovo-pesco-vegetarian, I think the only thing I could have ordered there was a bag of chips. I noticed a bar across from the station, and decided that a bloody mary and french fries sounded much more appetizing. I also figured that the bloody mary would help me to sleep once I got back on the bus. I wandered into the dive. Suzy, the bartender, made me an excellent bloody mary and fried up some green bean fries for me which were delicious. An older man sitting next to me at the bar turned toward me as I placed my order. "Where the hell did you come from?" he asked with a big smile.
"I ... uh, I ... just got off the bus," I responded sleepily.
"Yeah, no kidding!" he replied. He introduced himself as Dave. We talked about music and traveling for a bit, then he introduced me to a local 'zine called Rotten Apple. Named for Wenatchee's main export, the Apple pokes fun at the town and its inhabitants through stories and comics.
I told Dave that I love learning about the histories of different cities, and asked him if he could tell me more about Wenatchee. He started to tell me about "something that blew up once", but it was unclear whether that was a building or a vehicle. He got sidetracked and began telling me about his rough childhood. He was admittedly struggling to get his stories out due to the effects of some "devil's lettuce" he'd enjoyed before coming to the bar. As he delved deeper into his memories of childhood trauma, I began to fret over how to extricate myself from the conversation; it was nearly time to get back on the bus.
I kept trying to get Suzy's attention so I could pay my tab, but she was the only one on shift. Finally she made her way back to me and I paid her. Dave was trying to get me to write down the info for my show next month in Leavenworth, but I just bellowed it at him and told him he'd have to write it down himself because I had to catch my bus. The bus had been slated to depart at 12:40; my watch read 12:39.
I ran across the street. Initially I didn't see my bus. Then I saw a bus parked in what seemed to be a different spot but I attempted to board it anyway. The driver told me he was headed South and that my bus had just departed. I ran to the corner and saw that my bus was about a block away. I chased it and somehow caught up with it. The driver opened the door and let me in. I was relieved, but also felt nauseous as I curled up in my seat, due to the combination of booze, fried food, running and worrying about becoming stranded in Wenatchee. Never again, I vowed, will I drink when I should be getting on a bus or train.
Luckily I did manage to sleep through the second leg of the bus trip, and I arrived in Everett feeling refreshed. My friend Renae picked me up at the station and took me out to the Vintage Cafe for dinner. The food was great and I loved the atmosphere there. Then we headed Cafe Zippy's where my show was going to be held. I met a guy named Michael who said he was going to be opening for me. His music was good, and I especially liked it when he played harmonica. Renae's and my friend, Katie, met us at the cafe, as well as two of their friends, Keffer and Ryan. There were only a few other people in the audience, so it was a pretty intimate show.
After my set, we all went back to Renae's to get ready to go bar hopping. Some more of her friends as well as her roommates met up with us at the house, and then we all headed to the Irishmen, and then to a bar with pool tables and a jukebox. My friends and I danced even though there was no dance floor and no one else was joining in. At the end of the night, Katie's uncle, who is a cab driver, picked us up and took us all back to Renae's house. I started my last beer but things got fuzzy and I never finished it. Evidently I just put myself to bed and passed out instead.
The next day, Renae, Keffer and I went to Golden Gardens Beach in Seattle. We cured our hangovers by laying in the sun and drinking wine all day. It was strangely hot and sunny out for a day in mid-April in the NW. Keffer played my guitar and it sounded lovely. After we all walked along the beach searching for rocks and shells, I noticed that it was nearly 4:30. My train was scheduled to depart at 5:30. Keffer said that he thought it would only take 20 minutes to get to the station, but we all agreed that we should leave then and give ourselves extra time to get there.
After about 40 minutes in the car, we realized that it was going to take a little longer to get there than we expected. At that point we were near the U district, so things were beginning to look familiar to me but I knew that we weren't very close to the station yet. Keffer said not to worry, and he sped and wove through the thick traffic. We arrived at 5:23 PM. Thanks Keffer!
I was still a little nervous: I knew that the train usually left right at 5:30, and I still needed to print my ticket from the U-scan! Thankfully we found, after entering the station, that there was a long line and that the train to Portland had not made it in yet.
I said goodbye to my friends and boarded my train about 15 minutes minutes later. I found my seat, and then stretched out over the empty seat next to mine, tired but relieved. I was ready to go back home for a few days before the next adventure.
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