I missed my bus on the way home last night by about a minute and a half. Instead of waiting for another half hour standing next to three known drug dealers, a hooker, and a shit-faced Frat boy (trying to get on the wrong bus to his fraternity house – you want NORTH bound on 3^rd Ave, you moron), I hopped on one of my alternate routs. It drops me off about a mile away from home, a quick manageable walk. It’s a convenient drop-off stop near the heart of West Seattle, right across the street from a 7-11.

Hot dogs. I know they are bad for me, but they are such a wonderful guilty pleasure that late at night. Usually I get a Spicy Big Bite and a Slurpy. But I had been feeling a bit dehydrated, so I grabbed a big-ass 1.5 liter bottle of Fiji – Best bottled water I’ve ever tasted.

I like taking a detour walk while on my way home sometimes. Helps me think, even if what I’m thinking about is relatively unimportant.The sky was slightly cloudy, reflecting light back on the surrounding area. I can see fairly well in the dark, so the park I walked through to shave a block off the walk was lit well enough to avoid most of the mud. Yah, not “safe” by most people’s definition, but I keep aware of my surroundings pretty well. If I had seen anyone, I would have avoided the park altogether.

In the end, my walk saved me from standing down town for 20 minutes. I’m pretty sure that Frat boy was going to puke on somebody at some point. It might have been funny, but I’d rather not be the poor unfortunate target of some jerk’s binge drinking. That or being the witness to his beat-down.