Last Saturday was a big day. It started with a bacon, cheddar, onion and spinach omelette.
At 9:15 am, though it was very early for a Saturday, we left the house and braved the rain to get to Everett for a 10am tour of the Boeing factory. If you’ve never done this, I highly encourage it. I’m not one who is particularly enamored of aeronautics or flying, and still the views of the factory floor with airplanes in process is quite astounding. More astounding, I think, is the knowledge that even though the number of parts in one of those things is a completely non-human number (on the order of millions), each one was put there by a human. Crazy.
Also, I’m pleased to report that their new model, the 787 is 20% more fuel-efficient, meaning that the carbon cost of flying these things is LESS than if the passengers drove. Or some such guilt-reducing thing. Nice to know that carbon fiber has some purpose outside of custom Honda Civics.
At the conclusion of the tour, we piled back into the Sub (pronounced soob), headed down to the ferry terminal and hopped on a boat to Bainbridge Island. The ferry, I am happy to say, was more than just transportation. We got seats in the front row, and the view was complimented by the beer and sweet potato fries we got in the terminal. No open container laws on commuter ferries. Awesome.
Once we arrived in Bainbridge, we encountered light showers, a charming diner, and a lovely little town. We explored the book store, the bike store, the yarn store, the toy store, and the bakery, and having everyone’s hobbies addressed, it was time for more beer.
The first round of beer came with one of those spiral doodle kits and some itty bitty markers that we had picked up in the toy store. The second came with dinner. As much as we wanted to stay where we were, it was a small and very popular pub, so we felt guilty lounging in front of so many parched, starving Bainbridgeites.
It’s true that the pub where we had dinner is as far away from the ferry terminal you can be and still be in town. It’s also true that it was probably a 15 minute walk. Of course, once we arrived at the terminal, we could clearly see that there was not a ferry at the doc. Missed it by five minutes? Another one in 50? That’s just enough time for another beer!
This time, instead of heading all the way back to the cozy, crowded, view of the bay pub, we decide to stop at one of the restaurants in town that also has a tavern. Restaurant was empty, but the tavern side was jumpin’. Ted and Matt throw some darts. Some of them stuck in the dart board. Erin and I watched and drank.
Now, all credit goes to Ted for what happens next. Even without a watch, he was very conscientious about keeping track of the time of the next ferry. So, when he insisted, we shotgunned what was left in our glasses and started the 3 block trek back to the boat.
As we turn the corner, down toward the dock, we realize the guy at the gate is waving us emphatically forward. Hm. Okay. We walk faster towards the gangplank.
Next, the adrenaline-inducing blast of the ferry’s air horn.
Ah! They’re waiting for us! Holy shit! The four of us–drunk, stuffed full with beer and fried fish, run at full tilt down the hill, up the ramp, through the tunnel, only to arrive at the top where a man is closing the gate in front of us.
Just kidding. We got on the boat. And, just to make the ride back to the city that much better, it was senior prom. Awwww.
You think that’s the end of my story, but it’s not.
We got back to the car and as we were pulling out of the parking garage, we decided to ask Victoria (my gps) the best way to get to the freeway. We couldn’t find her! Also missing, her charger, Ted’s ipod and Erin’s ipod. Someone had stolen our small electronics, and also the tape to mp3 adapter for the car stereo! Bastards!
Three things came out of this:
- We drank lots more. Ah, solace.
- Matt took this opportunity to lavish me with gifts and promptly replaced Victoria. In’t he great?
- It gave us free license to swear all night. Lots of swearing. Favorite phrases included “mother bitch” and “bitch ass piece of fuck.”
Not a day that will be quickly forgotten, and we miss the O’Connors up here already.
