Another Day, Another Hotel, chapter 7
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"Ooh, I'm glad you have some time off." Adrienne says putting her arm around my waist as we walk briskly down the busy street in Seattle, Washington.
"Mm," I agree. "Me too." I take a deep breath and inhale the kind of burn-y smell of roasting coffee.
"Oh, let's go in here," Adie says, hitching her thumb at a Betsey Johnson outpost.
"Whatever you want." My hand is grabbed and I'm lead into the store.
The woman behind the counter is suck on the end of a pen and reading Vogue.
"Hi," she says without looking up.
"Hello," Adie says cheerfully, going over to a rack of black and white ruffle skirts. She's thumbing through the rack to find her size and, honestly, I'm a little bored. Despite the overwhelming urge I have to go 'Aaadie!! I'm buh-or-ed-uh!', I keep my mouth shut, because I know she'll have to suffer though hours of me over-analyzing pick thicknesses at a music store later.
"Holy shit," she says under her breath.
"Hmm?"
"Look at the price on this," she jams the skirt into my hands. Grabbing for the tag, I see the price: $300. I throw my arm out as if to steady myself and go into a coughing fit. Adie smacks me on the arm. She puts the skirt back onto the rack laughing and muttering,
"Never mind."
We laugh and move around the store.
"Ooh, clearance!" I say clapping my hands together like a four year old. Adie grins at me and looks over the goods. Even at clearance price, this shit is outrageous. I figure we'll have to a get the adrenaline rush of blowing scratch like a drunken sailor another way. I shove Adie for no apparent reason, knocking her into a display and sending some powder blue prom-ish looking dresses crashing to the floor. Of course, I can't control the giggle fit that ensues.
"Billie!" Adie says with her eyes big in shock and embarrassment. The noise has made the shop girl look up from her magazine for the first time. As Adrienne's clamoring to pick up the mess I caused her to make, the clerk eyes me and goes,
"Hey, aren't you that one guy from Green Day?"
I look at her sideways and say,
"Psh. No! Jesus Christ, what are you trying to say, huh?"
Adrienne's heard out exchange, slams the dresses back on the rack and grabs my hand, leading me back outside the store.
"I'm so sorry," she says to the shopgirl. "We're only allowed to take him on outings once a month, and sometimes he gets like this if he doesn't get his medication on time."
"No problem," the girl says as the door clicks behind us and we dissolve into laughter.
"She probably thought we were stealing," Adie giggles. We continue down the crowded street laughing and holding hands. When we come upon a coffee house, Adie points to it.
"Let's get some coffee."
"Why don't we just go to a Starbucks?" I ask attempting to continue down the sidewalk.
"No!" she says as if she's completely offended. "We're in Seattle. You can't go to Starbucks! It's like going to an Olive Garden in Italy."
"You do realize Starbucks started here, right?" I laugh and pull her into me.
"Yeah, I'm not lame," She glares up at me. "But they're-"
I cut her off with "Corporate?"
She rolls her eyes. "No."
"It's 'cause they're corporate, huh?"
"No!" she pushes away from me playfully.
"Hippie," I say under my breath.
"What?" She says eying me and crossing her arms.
"I said 'hippie'."
She smacks my arm hard enough to make a passer-by turn and look. "I am NOT a hippie!" she says, jokingly enraged.
"Yeah, uh huh," I say pushing her towards the door of the coffee house. Luckily, it wasn't very busy and there wasn't a line. The girl behind the counter has purple hair and massive amounts of blue eyeliner. Total art chick.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey," I say.
"Do you know what you want?" she asks.
"Uh, yeah," Adie says glancing at the menu written in colored chalk on the wall. "I'll just have a latte."
"Um, and I'll just have coffee," I say jabbing Adie in the shoulder and not looking at the barista.
"What do you want in it?" she asks me.
"Uh, nothing, thanks," I say.
"Wait, what do you mean?" she asks again, obviously confused by my request.
"You know," I say. "Just plain coffee. With nothing in it. Black."
"Like I like my men," Adie adds nonchalantly from behind me. I whip my head around and glare at her as the barista says,
"Uh, okay. Are you sure?"
"Mm hmm," I nod.
"Want it here, or what?" she asks after she rings us up.
"Here," Adie interjects as I'm paying.
"Hippie," I mutter and she smacks me again.
"What did I say?" she demands.
We get our coffee and giggle our way over to a corner table.
"If I'm a hippie, then you are too," Adie says, glaring at me over her latte.
"Ha!" I stick my finger into her coffee foam. She rolls her eyes and pulls it out of my reach. "I am SO not a hippie," I laugh.
"Oh, really," she says. "Let's count the ways you are."
"No. Let's count the ways you are. Der, number one, the dreadlocks." I point at her hair accusingly.
"Oh, you so have had dreadlocks at least twice." She nudges me under the table.
"Yeah, but," I try and make up an excuse.
"No, no you have no reason for having-"
"Oh, you've had 'em more than once too," I say.
"Okay, next reason. If you're riding on only one thing-" she says sipping her drink.
"Uh, okay, two: uh," God, I can't think of anything else.
"Berkeley!" she snaps her fingers in my face.
"What?" I say, blinking off her assault.
"You lived in Berkeley. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of hippies? Berkeley, duh."
"Well, you lived there too."
"Three: vegetarian." she puts up three fingers.
"Okay," I say, trying to figure out how to beat her at this one.
"Four," she says and I clunk my head down on the table.
"No, stop," I whine. "I'm not a hippie. I hate them soo much."
"Four, and I think this sums it up in one word, one syllable: weed." she smiles evily.
"Oh, yeah, like you never-" I start to defend my self.
"Five:," she holds up five fingers.
"Yeah? What's five?" I say crossing my arms in child-like defiance.
"Uh," she looks around the shop.
"Yeah? There's no five and you know it!" I cackle.
"Oh, god," she sits back in her chair. "We are, like, this close to being dirty hippies."
"Mm," I say. This is a sobering realization.
"Yeah, but the thing that does save us is the fact that we don't have androgynous hippie children."
Adie laughs.
"You know, the hippie children who have long blonde flowy hair, no shirt, rainbow print Hammer pants."
"I guess all we can do is thank Jakob and Joey for saving us from hippie-dom."
"Ready?" I say.
"Uh, yeah," She sighs. We bus our table and head back out on the street.
"Mm," I agree. "Me too." I take a deep breath and inhale the kind of burn-y smell of roasting coffee.
"Oh, let's go in here," Adie says, hitching her thumb at a Betsey Johnson outpost.
"Whatever you want." My hand is grabbed and I'm lead into the store.
The woman behind the counter is suck on the end of a pen and reading Vogue.
"Hi," she says without looking up.
"Hello," Adie says cheerfully, going over to a rack of black and white ruffle skirts. She's thumbing through the rack to find her size and, honestly, I'm a little bored. Despite the overwhelming urge I have to go 'Aaadie!! I'm buh-or-ed-uh!', I keep my mouth shut, because I know she'll have to suffer though hours of me over-analyzing pick thicknesses at a music store later.
"Holy shit," she says under her breath.
"Hmm?"
"Look at the price on this," she jams the skirt into my hands. Grabbing for the tag, I see the price: $300. I throw my arm out as if to steady myself and go into a coughing fit. Adie smacks me on the arm. She puts the skirt back onto the rack laughing and muttering,
"Never mind."
We laugh and move around the store.
"Ooh, clearance!" I say clapping my hands together like a four year old. Adie grins at me and looks over the goods. Even at clearance price, this shit is outrageous. I figure we'll have to a get the adrenaline rush of blowing scratch like a drunken sailor another way. I shove Adie for no apparent reason, knocking her into a display and sending some powder blue prom-ish looking dresses crashing to the floor. Of course, I can't control the giggle fit that ensues.
"Billie!" Adie says with her eyes big in shock and embarrassment. The noise has made the shop girl look up from her magazine for the first time. As Adrienne's clamoring to pick up the mess I caused her to make, the clerk eyes me and goes,
"Hey, aren't you that one guy from Green Day?"
I look at her sideways and say,
"Psh. No! Jesus Christ, what are you trying to say, huh?"
Adrienne's heard out exchange, slams the dresses back on the rack and grabs my hand, leading me back outside the store.
"I'm so sorry," she says to the shopgirl. "We're only allowed to take him on outings once a month, and sometimes he gets like this if he doesn't get his medication on time."
"No problem," the girl says as the door clicks behind us and we dissolve into laughter.
"She probably thought we were stealing," Adie giggles. We continue down the crowded street laughing and holding hands. When we come upon a coffee house, Adie points to it.
"Let's get some coffee."
"Why don't we just go to a Starbucks?" I ask attempting to continue down the sidewalk.
"No!" she says as if she's completely offended. "We're in Seattle. You can't go to Starbucks! It's like going to an Olive Garden in Italy."
"You do realize Starbucks started here, right?" I laugh and pull her into me.
"Yeah, I'm not lame," She glares up at me. "But they're-"
I cut her off with "Corporate?"
She rolls her eyes. "No."
"It's 'cause they're corporate, huh?"
"No!" she pushes away from me playfully.
"Hippie," I say under my breath.
"What?" She says eying me and crossing her arms.
"I said 'hippie'."
She smacks my arm hard enough to make a passer-by turn and look. "I am NOT a hippie!" she says, jokingly enraged.
"Yeah, uh huh," I say pushing her towards the door of the coffee house. Luckily, it wasn't very busy and there wasn't a line. The girl behind the counter has purple hair and massive amounts of blue eyeliner. Total art chick.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey," I say.
"Do you know what you want?" she asks.
"Uh, yeah," Adie says glancing at the menu written in colored chalk on the wall. "I'll just have a latte."
"Um, and I'll just have coffee," I say jabbing Adie in the shoulder and not looking at the barista.
"What do you want in it?" she asks me.
"Uh, nothing, thanks," I say.
"Wait, what do you mean?" she asks again, obviously confused by my request.
"You know," I say. "Just plain coffee. With nothing in it. Black."
"Like I like my men," Adie adds nonchalantly from behind me. I whip my head around and glare at her as the barista says,
"Uh, okay. Are you sure?"
"Mm hmm," I nod.
"Want it here, or what?" she asks after she rings us up.
"Here," Adie interjects as I'm paying.
"Hippie," I mutter and she smacks me again.
"What did I say?" she demands.
We get our coffee and giggle our way over to a corner table.
"If I'm a hippie, then you are too," Adie says, glaring at me over her latte.
"Ha!" I stick my finger into her coffee foam. She rolls her eyes and pulls it out of my reach. "I am SO not a hippie," I laugh.
"Oh, really," she says. "Let's count the ways you are."
"No. Let's count the ways you are. Der, number one, the dreadlocks." I point at her hair accusingly.
"Oh, you so have had dreadlocks at least twice." She nudges me under the table.
"Yeah, but," I try and make up an excuse.
"No, no you have no reason for having-"
"Oh, you've had 'em more than once too," I say.
"Okay, next reason. If you're riding on only one thing-" she says sipping her drink.
"Uh, okay, two: uh," God, I can't think of anything else.
"Berkeley!" she snaps her fingers in my face.
"What?" I say, blinking off her assault.
"You lived in Berkeley. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of hippies? Berkeley, duh."
"Well, you lived there too."
"Three: vegetarian." she puts up three fingers.
"Okay," I say, trying to figure out how to beat her at this one.
"Four," she says and I clunk my head down on the table.
"No, stop," I whine. "I'm not a hippie. I hate them soo much."
"Four, and I think this sums it up in one word, one syllable: weed." she smiles evily.
"Oh, yeah, like you never-" I start to defend my self.
"Five:," she holds up five fingers.
"Yeah? What's five?" I say crossing my arms in child-like defiance.
"Uh," she looks around the shop.
"Yeah? There's no five and you know it!" I cackle.
"Oh, god," she sits back in her chair. "We are, like, this close to being dirty hippies."
"Mm," I say. This is a sobering realization.
"Yeah, but the thing that does save us is the fact that we don't have androgynous hippie children."
Adie laughs.
"You know, the hippie children who have long blonde flowy hair, no shirt, rainbow print Hammer pants."
"I guess all we can do is thank Jakob and Joey for saving us from hippie-dom."
"Ready?" I say.
"Uh, yeah," She sighs. We bus our table and head back out on the street.
