I recently moved to Queen Anne because my beloved apartment building is being torn down by Sound Transit. This was a good and bad move for me. The good is that Sound Transit gave me so much money I was able to pay off a student loan. The bad is that I moved to Queen Anne.

I miss the bums in Capitol Hill. The late night wake up calls from the bald headed man who would scream weird profanities in the middle of the night. The guy who would hide right near the dollar books outside of Twice Sold Tales, carefully “reading” whatever was out there. I miss that tall lanky dude with the crazy hair. Actually, maybe he wasn’t a bum, but he was skinny as shit and always walking around like he needed his next fix. I miss the 40 something year old lady who diligently sold Real Change, and when she wasn’t she’d hold up the most polite sign for help I’ve ever read. I miss the 20-something year old chick with a dog who would sit outside the QFC on Broadway, and even if you spit in her face, she’d still say, “Thank you. Have a nice day.” I still think about the woman I saw who keeps scamming people out of money with her “I just left my abusive husband” story on the 8 bus. I remember the days when I’d have my ipod “on” as I quickly walked past the 18-year olds panhandling outside of Dicks or waiting for their turn to “pee” in that outdoor R2D2 porta potty. And sometimes I even miss the smell of piss and rotten food on the way to (and inside) the Capitol Hill library.

Cause on Queen Anne all you get is that one friendly dude, with big glasses, eating nacho chips and selling the Real Change rain or shine, every single day, like it’s his job (oh wait, it is). But he’s getting kind of old. I need variety man. Shout at me or pee on yourself. Be a real bum damn it! Otherwise I’m moving back to the land of heroin needles and pee.

Related posts:

1. Pumpkin Pie Sighting - Queen Anne Cafe Ladro
2. Bureau of Unexpected Discoveries: Trolley Hill Park
3. Goin’ Underground
4. venturing down to lower Queen Anne
5. Queen Anne Pagliacci turns 20