Saturday, April 10, 2004

The graffiti on the east side of the concrete structure in Gas Works park says, inexplicably, "west side." We try and make sense of it.
"But this is not west."
"Well, if Bellevue is the eastside, then this is the west side."
I'm not sure, though. I try and think of what sort of graffiti-er would be considering their relation to Bellevue.
"Do you think it says 'east side' on the other end?"

I'm still pondering the graffiti and idly watching a cute little boy climb the stairs when I notice a small pleasure boat heading straight for us. We joke about it crashing into us even while it's slowly stopping and eventually just not coming any closer at all. I can hear a song from The Counting Crows last album drift over the water. I like it and Jeff does not. A kayak paddles toward the boat and I hear the man in the front of the kayak shout up to the people "I'll take a ribeye, medium well." The people on the boat, though, don't seem to have understood him. They turn down the radio and he yells again "A ribeye, medium well, A-1 on the side." I don't know how they reply, but they don't seem to have invited the kayakers up because they keep going.

A few minutes later we walk towards the hill. There is no graffiti on the other side that says 'east side.'

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