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Morning Glory And The Chai House.
Chapter 1
We were sitting in a smoke-filled room watching "Don't Look Back." Bob Dylan had just thrown a glass out of his hotel window.
"Yo Rain Man."
"Sup Wapner?"
"Did you get my mail or did the dog eat?"
"Imagine time as a parallel dislocation when "God" steeped into a gopher hole in the middle of the 18th fairway at the St. Andrews. Where do you think THAT puts Tiger Wood's place in eternity?!"
"What?"
Robert had a strange obsession with early era television, Mel Brooks films, The Beach Boys and Dustin Hoffman from Rain Man. He definitely counted cards in Vegas. Around town Robert was known as "Laptop Bob."He was an angry adderall addict who fought against his landlord by playing "Don't get fooled again" and other The Who classics at full volume until quiet time.
Grocery shopping with Laptop bob was like preparing for a six months journey across the Oregon trail. 1/2 pound of bacon, 2 dozen eggs, 1 pound of coffee, 2 pounds of sugar, 12 sticks of butter, large cans of refried beans, heavy bags of rice and sacks of potatoes. bob would insist we lug all the groceries to his house like some mentally confused grandmother and leave it in the backyard overnight or even for a few days.
We used to hang out in the old Bobstreet Records before they moved to Market Street. There was this secret roominbetween shelves of records in the basement. There were several chairs; a table with some magazines and a black guitar case. There was an electric guitar inside with nothing to plug into.
"Yo Wapner?"
"Sup hoe."
"Do you have to play that old guitar? It sounds like shit." I slammed the pick against the guitar strings and flexed the whammy bar. I winked at Bob and threw the pick against his chest. "Bob this old six string is going to bring us all the way to hollywood!" "That busted up Fender 3 string is making me sick. Can we get some fresh air?" We said goodbye to the cashier and entered into the bright; sunny daylight.
We were standing in historic Ballard: Which was everything West of Triangle Park; all the way to the Fremont Canal. Old brick streets: Local pubs: An old bronze tower that rings by the hour: With one of those bronze plaques that tells you all about the local history.
Out past the train tracks there was this wooden dock where we used to smoke cigarettes: A thousand beer cans were crushed between the grooves of wood above the water.Bob was sitting down with his knees up at the end of the dock. He was wearing a Hawaiian tee shirt and cutoff jeans. He looked like an aging version of Johnny Depp in Blow.
I held onto the edge of the dock and dipped my feet into the water. "Donivan is an underrated musician don't you think?" Bob had his nose tucked into his collar. He was lighting a cigarette under his Hawaiian shirt. "Donivan had a few good songs," Bob said questioningly. "A few good songs?!" I kicked my feet around in the murky water. "You know he was in that super group that sang Season Of The Witch right?" Bob let out a plume of tobacco smoke. "That's a good point." bob would gesture with his hands while he talked; but he would stare at the ground like he was lecturing to a group of ants.
"Donivan also sang the verses for Billion Dollar Baby."
"Alice Cooper was very popular when I was in High School." I laughed and turned my head towards Bob. "When did you graduate ... 1776?" Bob gave me one of his "I will slap the shit out of you" looks. "Don't make me push you into the water. I graduated in 1973 from Portland High." Bob pinched his nose and closed his eyes like he had a migraine. "Can we get the fuck out of here? I feel like we are developing a bromance and it's making me sick."
We passed over the train tracks and headed toward Market Street. We walked passed the Pizza Parlors and the yuppies getting day drunk. The dollar stores and the Greek Restaurants. At the end of the street past the C.d store; there was this big wooden cat statue above the sidewalk with a sign that read: "Mr. Spots Chai House." There were two wooden benches by the front and a metal bike rack. There was this beautiful wooden piano, front and center of the building by the window.The keys were made of thick plastic. Several keys were badly chipped and the wood of the piano said: "Please ask before using! 5 minute limit! Thanks!
"Are you playing tonight?"
"Maybe. Have you seen Mr. President? He brought over his clarinet."
"Ohh geez. You're playing with that battleaxe?! He might have a Vietnam flashback."
"Good Lord Bob."
"Sorry man."
Bob and I sat there and enjoyed the silence. Behind the piano was an odd assortment of chairs, tables and couches. To the right was the bar; along with the espresso machine and the deli food. Several pinball machines were tucked into the back room past the toilets. Someone shouted from the "employees only" section. The forbidden area in the very back. They were always yelling back there.
"Is this seat taken?"
A short man in his early thirties with big blue eyes stood there. "Hey Dana," I said smiling. "We were saving these seats for foreign dignitaries. You can butt-warm until our secret meeting. Dana smiled and sat down. He was one of the regulars. I called him Frodo sometimes because of his extreme resemblance to Elijah Woods.
We used to play baseball together: We would hop into Dana's blue pickup truck and drive North through the Ballard neighborhood. We would listen to Manfred Man and Sly Stone. We would find public lawns or an empty lot and throw an old baseball around.
We would joke about how our coffee shop friends would never play sports. We planned to go to a Mariners game secretly. This idea always made us laugh. We would wear dark sunglasses and fake mustaches in case we were spotted on the game cam. We both still had our glove from when we played in high School.
"So ... did you ever steal second base?"
"Yeah. I wasn't as tall as you though. I had to be careful."
"You played short stop right? So did you ever tag somebody out?"
"One time I caught a fly ball. It went right into my glove and then I tagged somebody out."
"You got a double play BY YOURSELF?!"
"Yes! Can you believe that?"
"No."
We sat there at the coffee shop table with Laptop Bob. We were waiting patiently for the weekly open mic to begin. Just sort of spaced out at the table. The lights were being slowly dimmed down. People were starting to shuffle in from the street. The little cowbell above the front door was ringing off the hook.
"Bob do you want to play some Chess?"
He looked at me with an angry expression and threw his hands up into the air. "Do I look like god damned Bob Einstein to you?!" Then he stared at the table like it was a T.V screen. I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing. "Hey ... I found $10 on the ground today. You guys want to split a pint?" Laptop Bob shook his head. "I can't," he said shrugging. "I'm an alcoholic for life."
"Okay ... Well do you want to split a sandwich?" Bob straightened his back and his eyes lit up. "Now you are speaking my language! I haven't eaten all day." He licked his lips. "Get us something with roast beef ... or turkey pastrami!"
Unfortunately for Laptop Bob; all the sandwiches in The Chai house were Vegan. There was this one sandwich that I actually enjoyed. It contained sauerkraut and this meat substitute called "veggie loaf" which is a meatloaf substitute that is actually pretty convincing. I received the sandwich on a ceramic plate with a napkin wrapped around a butter knife.
"What did you get?" bob was staring at the sandwich slices with hunger in his eyes. He picked up one of the slices and took a huge bite. ''YUCK!" bob yelled, spitting out the half chewed sandwich on the table. "What the fuck is that? Sauerkraut?" I took my napkin out and dropped it over Bob's regurgitated food. " Gross bob what the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked scowling at him. "Gross?! Your taste of food is gross!" Sauerkraut and mystery meat? Is this a Ukrainian Bed & Breakfast? Bob lifted the napkin covering the chewed up food and wiped his tongue. Then he got up and walked towards the bathroom.
Bob came back to the table with a pepsi can and a glass of ice. He poured soda slowly over the ice so it foamed up and then slowly slurped the foam off the top. "I can upgrade that pepsi into a pepsi float little boy," I said laughing.
Bob made a face like gollum from Lord Of The rings and clutched the glass with both hands. "Fuck you," he snarled.
Suddenly the lights of the coffee shop completely shut off and the light above the stage flicked on. Everyone in the coffee shop became completely silent. A tall man in his mid twenties and a short red headed women with a barista apron began plugging electrical equipment into the wall. The P.R system began to buzz. There was a soundboard, several guitar amps and two microphones on stands.
"Before we begin tonight's open mic: I have a bit of bad news that might be disturbing to some people," said the man who was setting up the equipment. "For a lot of people; this place is a second home. This was Emily's first job he said pointing to the red headed barista. I told myself I wasn't going to get emotional so im just going to ...The rent for this building has been risen 50%. Starting next month ... the Chai House Coffee Shop will no longer exist.