Pike's Place

Can I start by saying that I hate slide shows. And I hate when people go on trips with only the 'slide show in mind.' But I have to share this about my trip. I was with my sisters. And I adore my sisters. Anyone would, really. They're like me. Enough said.

So we go to Pike's Place one night to purchase fish for dinner. And if you've clicked on the above spot, you'll get what this place does to people, especially women.

There are men and they are wearing waders. They are young and it is believable that they are the ones who actually go out onto the boats. And they throw fish—right over your head. And they chant.

Are there women reading this? Are you getting this? Pike's Place is to women as Victoria's Secret is to men. A bit disorienting.

So I'm in charge of picking the fish for dinner, and all I can think about are waders and flying fish.

So I settle on Chilean Sea Bass. A favorite.

This is actually how it went. The man in waders, standing next to me, large dead fish in hand, says, What can I get you?

And I spit out, Halibut. Yes, halibut. And then, Crab, yes, crab. And then I see the Bass. And I love it. So I buy nearly ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS worth. It was the waders, I swear.

And they pack it for me. And I leave in female triumph. I have come. I have purchased.

And then my brother-in-law asks, so nicely, Did you notice that Chilean Sea Bass is not fished out of this area? Did you notice the tag said 'frozen?'

And at this point I'm away from the waders and the male fish-throwing and I say, Hah?

And he says, Just saying.

And I say, Son-of-b*&^%$.

And he says, Just saying.

So I ate fish, IN SEATTLE, from Chili. Bloody waders.