So… it’s raining. Again. No really. I just checked the weather report, and it looks like this for the next ten days:
You know these cute little Seattle weather memes going around the internet? Where someone notes that it’s really not rainy here all the time, that it’s all a lie we tell Californians so they’ll go away?
It’s a lie we tell ourselves.
It really does rain here All the Freakin’ Time. You know your friend who keeps telling you that it’s super nice in Seattle and about how there are lots of high-paying jobs in the tech industry and multitudinous micro brews and how you should move here so the two of you can hang out more?
It’s because he’s a lonely, out-of-work techie with no social skills in a city where everyone is a lonely techie with no social skills, and where, since it rains All the Freakin’ Time, no one ever goes out because it’s miserable being wet and yet owning an umbrella makes you “uncool” in the eyes of people who buy their entire nightclub wardrobes at REI, and those micro brews are all sold by the bottle because the only place people drink them is in their living rooms alone where they’re streaming back episodes of The Colbert Report and eating sushi they bought at Whole Foods, and where the name of the local “attitude” is The Seattle Freeze (and not because we give out otter pops at the airport, you understand).
No, I’m not bitter because in the last 3 months I’ve had exactly two Saturdays where riding my bike wouldn’t have entailed a body-size weather prophylactic. I’m just trying to save you!
The sad truth is: your Seattle friend has no other friends. He can’t, because everyone here has gone completely bonkers due to the mold spores slowly spreading throughout their brains (this explains the sushi from Whole Foods, which tastes nothing like actual sushi, and much more like the recycled cardboard tray it comes in). It’s like an old X-Files episode, except with significantly less Unresolved Sexual Tension. We don’t wait around for cute FBI agents to solve life’s furrier mysteries, we just let ourselves get consumed by our only real friend: Fungus.
Doesn’t he just look like a great guy?
Coffee shop conversations look like this:
Your friend: “Hi there, Miss. That’s a nice green fleece you’re wearing.”
Miss: “It’s not supposed to be green.”
So don’t listen to him. Stay in San Diego. Or Boston. Or Timbuktu. It’s nicer there. Next time he tells you that we have lovely summers, note that three lovely summer days a year does not make up for the above weather graphic, which you could essentially copy-paste to cover the entire year, except for one week in August.
And when it isn’t raining, we don’t even let you enjoy it. Really:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go remove some more mold from my crevices.