So I'm in to work early today, and for the first time in years, have a whiff of nostalgia for Wisconsin.
Here's the deal: my place of business is in the bottomland south of Bellevue, near the Mercer Slough, and consists of buildings on stilts. The roads wind through this area, and the parking lots of curved patches branching off from the access roads.
So this morning I drive up, and there are two vehicles in the entrance to the parking lot, facing opposite ways, their drivers in discussion. Both are likely involved with building maintenance. One is a dark blue ford (looks like management) and the other is one of those golf-cart things. They're blocking the road. They're having a conversation. About thirty seconds later, I tap the horn, and they break up, and I get to park the car (mind you, the Hybrid isn't burning any gas while I'm sitting there, so its solely personal inconvenience).
Anyway, it made me whistful for rural Wisconsin, where this kind of behavior is legendary. About once a week I would come across two cars, facing opposite directions, usually blocking the entire street, while their occupants (usually two old woman, or if trucks were involved, two old guys in gimme hats) would be talking. And it was customary to give them about a half-minute to let them wrap up the conversation, then remind them that you're there.
So Management pulls in and parks, and I park near him. Still smiling, I get out and say "So, You're from Wisconsin?" The guy pulls out his cellphone, and, ignoring me, starts making an important call.
Oh yeah, we're in Seattle after all. Forgot about that.
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