Chronicles of a Corporate Intern

Downtown Seattle and I have never had the healthiest relationship. We get along okay in the daytime for the most part now, but once night rolls around we tend to quibble. And, of course, when exploring new things we fight even more.

Tim's graduation was at Town Hall down off Seneca Street near the Convention Center. So, I parked in the Convention Center public parking garage. Mistake #1.
Then I exited through a side door of the convention center. Mistake #2.

When I got back to the convention center (at like 10:30 at night mind you) the door was locked. In fact, all the doors on that wing were locked. So were the doors into the garage. And the large doors were closed. And the elevators were disabled.

Yeah. I was unimpressed.

Finally (after falling down some stairs and cutting my foot so I was bleeding on my white leather shoes) I found some lady by some random door into the convention center and she let me in.

Why?

Because she couldn't find the parking garage either. An elevator ride later we emerged on the floor right next to the door to the garage where the Jeep was.

It was my garage, not the poor lady's. After parting ways I paid my ticket and climbed happily into my car (removing the shoes. Blood only got on the gold rings, thank God).

Peeling out of that parking lot blasting the EP version of "Clutch" and cruising down the waterfront was one of the most liberating moments in recent memory.