Rows of shiny new electric cars, driven by very important people heading back home early from a “hard day’s work”, stretch for a far as the eye can see. In all directions you see well dressed men and women on their Pocket Secretaries, and drinking cups of coffee, one eye on the road, one elbow on the wheel. Soft toned “bleeps” and “whaahs” with a heavy flange effect pour gently out of the passing windows. As if corporate lobby and elevator music wasn’t bad enough, these schmucks drove home listening to it as well!
The logical thing to do is to tell Jordan to find something really obnoxiously in-your-face-punk and blast it. Quite a few heads turn and look at the three of you rocking out to the “dirty street music” and give a disapproving but passive aggressive slight raise of the eyebrows and then look away as if you aren’t there. Perfect!
It feels like everyone in Seattle is on Route 99, but after a while you eventually approach your exit for the foothills of West Seattle near Westwood. Your destination is a town in transition. Once a quaint small town atmosphere this neighborhood is gentrifying, ironically due precisely to the small town appeal to corporate commuters. In another decade it will be just another modern suburb, with hip chain coffee houses pretending to look like small town mom and pop shops, the very ones which were run out of business.
Dorsey directs Jordan to a street on the edge of town. There you stop at a small one-story building overlooking a couple dozen moving trucks.