Monday, April 18, 2011

Back From Spokane

We made it back, none the worse for the wear. Spokane was our final out of town trip before Michele makes her decision on where she's going to go to work. Assuming Spokane offers her the job (and I have no reason to believe they won't), it's now down to Port Angeles, Seattle, or Spokane. Portland and Tacoma are out. I don't know which way Michele's going to go but I can honestly say that I'm fine with all three. PA is probably the place I'd like to go most and staying in Seattle is the bottom of my list. Really though, six of one, half dozen of the other, all three are good options and I'm happy to follow my wife anywhere.

So about the trip. The prospective employer put us up in what is widely regarded as the nicest hotel in town, the Davenport. I've barely stepped foot in the Davenport since it was purchased by Walt Worthy, and back then it was a dump. He did a nice job with the place but it feels way over the top to me. Too Donald Trump if you know what I mean. Oh, and since wAmay was in town with their World Wide Only An Idiot Can't Make Money With Our Shitty Pyramid Scheme $1k Per Head Pep Talk conference, the hotel was crawling with dipshits in their cheap suits and name tags trying to give off the appearance of wealth. Of course, as the bellhop said to me,"tipping doesn't lend to the appearance of wealth if the people you're trying to impress aren't close at hand". Put that together with the pitiful excuse for a wireless network, the shit mattress, and the "this item is for sale in our gift shop" tag on everything (and I do mean everything) in the room, I think I would have been better served by the airport Holiday Inn. Anyway, I'm on the verge of really letting Ranty Sean loose so I'll move on to the rest of the trip.

Alright, I've hit a block. Every time I try and write the next paragraph I find myself wanting to wind my way back back to an wAmay rant. Maybe a little background is in order. When I was 15 my family moved from Portland to Spokane. We lived on the edge of town and my high school was not close by. Conveniently enough, the vice principal lived only a couple blocks away and was more than happy to give me a ride every morning. The downside was that Cheetah (not his actual name, but a decent homonym) was big into the wAmay and would listen to either christian rock or those fucking wAmay tapes every goddamn morning on the drive in. For two and a half years. Every morning. wAmay tapes. Christian rock. Every morning. Two and a half years. Fucking wAmay. Anyway, I've become a little hung up on who I was sharing my hotel with and I'm having a hard time shifting gears so how about a few photos.

Michele and Porter on the way to the pool.

I sure loves me some bike cycle.

Arrogant Bastard on tap, my favorite non-wuss beer.

I don't even know, the look on the boys face makes me laugh.

Ahh, that's better. Let us never speak of this again.


Old Fat and Slow said...

It was hell, HELL I tell you!

JMH said...

I had a cousin who was into the wAmay for a few years, so I feel your pain.