How I ended up in Utah for four hours
Things change quickly. P has been asking me to come sooner ever since I booked my domestic tickets when I couldn’t get hold of her. Yesterday I agreed to, seeing how she’s going through a hard time and me being done with Seattle. She helped me change the reservation for a 10.30 flight this morning, which meant we had to leave V’s place at 9 at the latest. But things took a lot of time, we were waiting for V’s friend etc. so we didn’t get going until 9.20 or so. Needless to say, I missed the flight. The line was so long, and airlines people were letting through people on flights leaving within 30 minutes, only there was no Delta representative out there, and the representatives of the other airlines didn’t want to let me through. It was so frustrating – when I got to the gate the plane was still there, but no people to let me in.
I went to another Delta gate, and they rescheduled me for a flight two hours later, with a four hour wait in Salt Lake City, which is where I am at right now. It seems to be a rather boring place, by the look of it from above. The mountains look nice, though.
Yesterday I went to an exhibition of John Lennon’s art. Sketches and drawings, aquarells for his son Sean, handwritten Beatles’ lyrics. I liked some if not all of it. It was a pity everything was so expensive – it would have been the perfect present for D.
I tried to do all the stuff I hadn’t done so far yesterday, since it was to be my last day in Seattle. I had lunch at Pike Place Market – soup and sallad. Also I went back to Hugo House, but the cafe wasn’t open, then found a big thrift store that sold all sorts of halloween stuff, so I shopped a little for A. Going back I finally took the monorail. The trip from downtown to the Seattle Center takes only 90 seconds, so you hardly notice you’re going and then you’re there.
Thursday evening was interesting. I went to an all ladies open mic event at a place called The Bar. Only five people including myself turned up, so instead of having a stage reading we sat at a round table discussing and reading our poetry. The girls were Molly, Patricia, Angela and Lindsey, all of them interesting and with their own stories.
Time and time again I run into people talking about the differences between the east and the west. Myself I haven’t really noticed.
After the reading we played pool. I sucked. Will need to practice more or realise it’s not for me.
Molly was kind enough to offer me a ride home in her cool orange ’77 car, and Angela gave me a chapbook of hers.
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