Picking up Chicks in Seattle − November, 2007
If you were in Seattle visiting your brother but he had to work, what would you do for the evening? Would you hang out at the hostel where you were staying with the other guests? Or would you go out, even if it meant hanging out by yourself?
You might decide to go out because, after all, who wants to stay at the hostel when Capitol Hill is just up the street? You grab your bag and head for the door. As you walk up Pike St, just after crossing I-5, you notice a pub. It’s full of life.
Should you go inside? It’s not in the heart of Capitol Hill, but it looks inviting. You kind of want some company. You go inside and notice a woman, about your age, alone at the bar. Since you’re a woman, you figure she probably won’t mind if you sit next to her.
She looks lonely, or a little sad. Maybe the two of you will talk. You notice that she’s drinking a stout. You ask her whether she likes it. She does. Then you notice just the dish for you on the menu. You ask the barkeep which beer would go best with it. He suggests the Ruby ale.
You notice that the woman has ordered some Tater Tots. Is she hard up for cash? Tater Tots? Then she orders a sandwich, so you know she couldn't be too hard up. Then you notice that the menu says Tater Tots are a specialty here, so you order some, too!
She pulls out a small notebook. This gives you the courage to pull out your book. You are adept at being alone. This wouldn’t be the first time you had read at a bar. The woman pulls out a larger notebook. Is it a coincidence, or are you giving each other courage to be different?
Your food arrives, and so does hers. Fishing for some conversation, you tell her that she's given you the guts to pull out your book. She bites! She wants to know what the book is about. You tell her it is a novel written from the point of view of a boy with Asberger's syndrome. The two of you speculate about what might cause Asberger's Syndrome.
Then the woman begins opening up. She introduces herself as C. She tells you that she’s writing her first screenplay. She doesn’t tell you what it’s about, but you talk with her about writers groups and whether they might be helpful.
Oh, now you are in your element! Here is a smart, literate, mature woman. How much better could it get? Years ago, C tells you, she lived in your hometown for a decade. You tell her how much the town has changed, that the town’s "funk" wandered down the road to a nearby lower-rent town.
C’s in her element too. She reminisces about old times. She opens up some more. She speaks passionately about her angst that too many volunteer organizations are helping in small ways but aren’t solving bigger problems. She wants to find a way to bring these groups together to have a greater effect.
You echo that you’ve seen the same phenomenon in your own town. You tell her about a friend who has a somewhat similar passion. C leans forward, interested. Your friend wants to use a social networking site like FaceBook to help solve the problem.
Now you’re really connecting. C is very excited now. She hasn’t heard of sites like FaceBook. You tell her about FaceBook, and about how anyone that wants to can write applications for it. You give her your friend’s email address and tell her you’ll make sure it’s OK for her to use it. You also give the woman your own email address.
This woman, who seemed sad and lonely when you entered the bar, now shines with happiness. You feel warm inside. You feel the fulfillment that can only come from relating deeply to another person.
The waiter brings the checks. You both put your coats on and collect your bags. C gets a wistful, happy expression on her face. As you reach for your check, she takes it and tells you that it’s her treat tonight. In astonishment, you tell her that you’re not poor, even though you’re staying at the hostel. She understands, she just wants to treat.
You are amazed. You are also proud of yourself for having risked spending the evening alone. You hope that this friendship can last more than one night.
Back home, you email C and she replies. Her message is warm, funny, and quirky. You are happy that you wrote to her. Over the next couple months you email back and forth. You really get a sense of what a funny person she is.
She bursts with excitement about the possible sale of her screenplay. You ask whether you can read it, and she magnanimously says, “Of course!” You feel the thrill of excitement that such a new friend would share something so personal with you.
You might decide to go out because, after all, who wants to stay at the hostel when Capitol Hill is just up the street? You grab your bag and head for the door. As you walk up Pike St, just after crossing I-5, you notice a pub. It’s full of life.
Should you go inside? It’s not in the heart of Capitol Hill, but it looks inviting. You kind of want some company. You go inside and notice a woman, about your age, alone at the bar. Since you’re a woman, you figure she probably won’t mind if you sit next to her.
She looks lonely, or a little sad. Maybe the two of you will talk. You notice that she’s drinking a stout. You ask her whether she likes it. She does. Then you notice just the dish for you on the menu. You ask the barkeep which beer would go best with it. He suggests the Ruby ale.
You notice that the woman has ordered some Tater Tots. Is she hard up for cash? Tater Tots? Then she orders a sandwich, so you know she couldn't be too hard up. Then you notice that the menu says Tater Tots are a specialty here, so you order some, too!
She pulls out a small notebook. This gives you the courage to pull out your book. You are adept at being alone. This wouldn’t be the first time you had read at a bar. The woman pulls out a larger notebook. Is it a coincidence, or are you giving each other courage to be different?
Your food arrives, and so does hers. Fishing for some conversation, you tell her that she's given you the guts to pull out your book. She bites! She wants to know what the book is about. You tell her it is a novel written from the point of view of a boy with Asberger's syndrome. The two of you speculate about what might cause Asberger's Syndrome.
Then the woman begins opening up. She introduces herself as C. She tells you that she’s writing her first screenplay. She doesn’t tell you what it’s about, but you talk with her about writers groups and whether they might be helpful.
Oh, now you are in your element! Here is a smart, literate, mature woman. How much better could it get? Years ago, C tells you, she lived in your hometown for a decade. You tell her how much the town has changed, that the town’s "funk" wandered down the road to a nearby lower-rent town.
C’s in her element too. She reminisces about old times. She opens up some more. She speaks passionately about her angst that too many volunteer organizations are helping in small ways but aren’t solving bigger problems. She wants to find a way to bring these groups together to have a greater effect.
You echo that you’ve seen the same phenomenon in your own town. You tell her about a friend who has a somewhat similar passion. C leans forward, interested. Your friend wants to use a social networking site like FaceBook to help solve the problem.
Now you’re really connecting. C is very excited now. She hasn’t heard of sites like FaceBook. You tell her about FaceBook, and about how anyone that wants to can write applications for it. You give her your friend’s email address and tell her you’ll make sure it’s OK for her to use it. You also give the woman your own email address.
This woman, who seemed sad and lonely when you entered the bar, now shines with happiness. You feel warm inside. You feel the fulfillment that can only come from relating deeply to another person.
The waiter brings the checks. You both put your coats on and collect your bags. C gets a wistful, happy expression on her face. As you reach for your check, she takes it and tells you that it’s her treat tonight. In astonishment, you tell her that you’re not poor, even though you’re staying at the hostel. She understands, she just wants to treat.
You are amazed. You are also proud of yourself for having risked spending the evening alone. You hope that this friendship can last more than one night.
Back home, you email C and she replies. Her message is warm, funny, and quirky. You are happy that you wrote to her. Over the next couple months you email back and forth. You really get a sense of what a funny person she is.
She bursts with excitement about the possible sale of her screenplay. You ask whether you can read it, and she magnanimously says, “Of course!” You feel the thrill of excitement that such a new friend would share something so personal with you.
