Guys, it was sunny today. And yesterday. And the day before. We won’t talk about Friday, when it tricked us into not wearing our coats to the park and then POURED rain on me and ten unsuspecting children until we had to huddle under the overhang by the nasty public restrooms. But we were talking about sunshine. It really has been sunny for three days, and that crazy big moon has been out at night, and I’ve been happy. I don’t think it’s actually possible for me to be sad when it is sunny in Seattle.
Instead, I’ve been in a state of semi-heat stroke. Like yesterday, I hallucinated a large white dog in the doorway of the coffee shop. We’re talking about a labradoodle that was only there in my peripheral vision. Dude, I know. But I swear, it’s because of the sun. My skin, which is my biggest sense organ, was scrambling like crazy to integrate all that direct solar energy, so no surprise if some sensory signals were scrambled. And did I mention the heat? Seventies, guys, for real. I can’t tell you how much water I was drinking.
Last time it was really sunny, a few weeks ago, I was in American Apparel on Broadway buying leggings. Say what you will about American Apparel, they know their leggings. They aren’t see-through, or anything, so if I was fifteen I could wear them with some weird short sweater or something, or being thirty I can wear them to yoga since I happen to like my own butt. The point is, you want hipster clothes, go to hipster stores. Anyhow. So there I was in American Apparel buying leggings, and the salespeople are all wearing their American Apparel Salespeople outfits and talking in their hip young-person accent, which I really hope I do not have, and I have a wicked V shaped sunburn on my chest and back, and we’re talking of course about the weather. The guy at the cash register says the sun made him fall asleep on the bus and be late to work. Then he tells me a startling statistic.
“Did you know,” he says, “I hear coffee in Seattle is apparently so strong that people can get their Vitamin D from it.”
So there you go: the Seattle secret. And if anyone an expert on the benefits of coffee, it’s that sleepy hipster.