Tag Archives: friendship

Seattle in a truck 


I arrived in Seattle less than two weeks ago and thus far I have a job, friends, and a car to sleep in. The job I got on my second day in town, my best friend is the first person I met in town, and the car in my friends car. The car is a lifted truck by which I have made a bedding in the bed and sleep fine. I don’t have any forms of identification and going from a non-identified person to an identified person is not easy to do in the US and aside from all the tedious amount of running around to different government buildings, I am doing fairly fucking awesome. I know almost nothing about this city which makes a large part of my experience completely novel and so I am like a baby that has learned how to use the bus system. It’s kinda fucking great.

The first thing I did after getting off the bus in Seattle was to head down to the pedicab garage to get a job. I have worked pedicabs all across the country and know how easy it can be to get a job. In most cities there is a licensing process and maybe a letter of hire, but here in Seattle it was a process of getting on a bike and going out to make money. All anyone would have to do would be to find the manager and you got yourself a job. The first weekend of working cabs we worked a Huskies football game. There was quite a bit of bitching about how cabbers did not make enough money but we all bought beer and got drunk that night. I was tired but happy that night.

Downtown Seattle you can find me on the waterfront most of the time. There are only a few bars that card regularly and without i.d. I am unable to join the mainstream of people that frequent the weekend barseen but I still frequently go out for drinks and explore the old brick buildings that remind me of St. Paul. Got punched in the head the other night in a mosh pit at a punk rock show. It was awesome. Dude Juicy Karkass rocked all of our worlds. Other than that it’s been city car adventures and hanging out with the dudes.

In the evening there is a regular crowd of dudes drinking beer outside the pedicab garage. We are talking about 5-10 pedicabbers who are in their mid thirties and just like talking. Most of them live out of a truck or van and I found myself at home on the first night. We trade a lot of stories and it’s fun to hang out with them and get drunk but no chicks gets old quick and so I am working on branching out and doing my own thing a lot of the time.

Apparently Seattle has one of the largest populations of people that live out of their vehicles. This is exactly what I am looking to do. I found a great deal on a Subaru Outback and will buy it as soon as I have enough money. The weird part about having enough money is that I do have enough money but the bank won’t let me access all of it without i.d. so at the moment I am withdrawing 300 a day until I have enough. It should be by the end of the week.

Back to the beginning; moments after getting into Seattle I met a guy that is working on a bus. After a bit of chit chat through a window he invites me up and shows me his projected home. This guy buys busses and then lives on then while he does the seats, tile flooring, cedar ceiling, a kitchen, bathroom, the works. After he finishes the bus he lives and tours out of it until he finds a buyer. This is the guy that is turning into my best friend here in Seattle and constantly he is making me want to buy my own bus. It’s a tricky situation at this point for the reason of me not really know what I want to do with my life…

We all could feel the first day of fall two days ago. Most of the cabbers are not fond of Seattle winters and the back of the truck is getting cold at night which makes me wonder what I will want to do for this coming winter. I have two options in mind that I will lay out before you. I want to hear what y’all think.

1. Live in Seattle for a few months then sell the Subaru and dip out to Australia like I had originally planned. Australian adventure!

2. Stay in the states. Buy a bus. Prepare for pedicabbing the festival season this coming season. Build a bus, build a cab, start stocking up on the deemsters, get connected with the pedicabbers in charge of the festivals.

Life is great. We can manifest anything we choose. It takes work but with goals so grand can’t really do anything but be compelled into action. Almost like something greater has taken control of our bodies and, like puppets we guided to sacred places. 

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I am batman

 
Why is batman so great? I mean the guy doesn’t have any superpowers and only ever fights to save one city, never the world let alone the universe. There is a reason why batman chirps on my heart strings and that is because the focus of the sirese is on how strong can a man can be. Batman sees Gotham city as himself and can take whatever load the city will ask him to take. This is because he is batman, and batman is strong. 

The theft that happened at the zipline came back to bite yesterday. I was at a Grateful Dead show down at Charlie’s in Paia and I ran into all the old guys that I used to work with. It was the first time that we met face to face since the theft and most of them were still looking for recompense. I made it a point to talk to each of them and soon I found myself encircled by five of them outside the bar. There were plenty of people around so I was not too afraid of getting my ass kicked and I was not going to cower because of a false accusations. 

They could see my resolve and they attempted to take it out of me through psychological warfare which I would not let take a hold of me. I am a strong. At another point durning the night I found myself walking up to their territory of the bar and dancing to “box of rain” right in front of them. In my mind this was a “can’t we all just dance and forget about this nonsense message” but to some of them it might have looked a bit more like “I stole from you and now I am dancing in yo face” kind of message. 

For the record: I stole nothing from them. I am responsible for bringing the person who did steal from them onto the premise and for that I am guilty but never would I steal from another person. 

The night ended and I walked out of the bar with a beautiful woman, and I was happy and winning. 

 
The following day my new roommates and I adventured all over Maui. We skinny dipped in the mermaid pools, we pick mushrooms near Hanna, we sang and ate coconuts from the trees. As the sun was setting we find ourselves on the beech dancing within a drum circle. I could not plan a better day than that if you asked me to. 

   

 As we were leaving one of the meatier headed zipliner (not an actual employee of the zipline but only a friend) who had been part of the posy to confront me the night prior at the bar goes to approach my new friends. He congratulates them on their upbeat attitude and introduced himself to each. He then takes the stage and royally calls me a thief right in front of everyone. The hate that came from this man was the most negative energy that I have ever had thrown at me in my life and I would not have anything to do with it. Most of the friends in my group had already heard my side of the story and I wasted no time defending myself to this sick thing before my feet. I shamed him for his misconduct and deception to my friends and he was the first to walk away. The girls in the group where shocked at the amount of hate that had been directed my way and this morning I was asked to leave my place of residence. What amazes me now is my reaction to the person that stole and got me into this predicament. 

  
I write this post from a coffee shop in Lahina and I know that I will see my friend soon. My friend that has caused me so much misfortune and hard work. For some reason I still believe in this friend. Unlike 99.99999% of people in this world or even on this island, this friend made it past the basic relationship and has become a brother and because of that will believe in this man despite everything that he has put me through. Because he is my brother I will not tell him of all these things that he has put me through. He does not need to be reminded of his past when he too is on the road of change. Why do I do this? Maybe it’s because I too am batman. 

Small kind.