I just packed 15 depressing events into 90 minutes

Macy’s watch repair finally, after six months, called to inform me that they once again had in their possession my beloved Seiko watch I bought in Hong Kong, the cost of which to repair exceeded the total value of the watch itself. (#1)

So I go down to the underbelly of the Burnside Bridge (#2) to catch the Max (#3) to Lloyd Center (#4).

At the Rose Garden I’m joined by an man my age more drunk at 1pm than I have ever been at 3am (#5) and a young man literally lighting a fresh bowl of buttery kind bud (#6) who then proceeds to freestyle rap about the Max (#7) for two more stops. The drunk guy tries gamely to engage us in a pointless three-way conversation about cel phones (#8).

I have no issues with the Lloyd Center Max stop, at least it’s outdoors.

But what the hell, let’s throw in walking through the unlit parking garage (#9) to get into the Lloyd Center Macy’s, where the watch repair person is out to lunch (#10) for the next half hour.

So, I figure, I’m in the mall and I need a new pair of jeans, I might as well go to Sears (#11) — where surely Levi’s will be cheaper than at Macy’s — and try on jeans in the unstaffed fitting room (#12) while the inventory control alarm sounds continuously while I try on clothes (#13).

Upon returning to Macy’s I pass a Levi’s display — manned by actual salespeople, natch — where the exact make of jeans I just bought are $3 cheaper (#14).

The watch repair salesgirl did cheerfully refund the $75 deposit I put down for this non-repair. And on the Max ride back into downtown I caught a sunbreak in the rain, with a beautiful view of Forest Park glowering behind the Fremont Bridge. (Double win!)

But on the west side of the Steel Bridge I realized I had unwittingly boarded the Yellow Line Max and would thus have an eight block hike in the freezing rain. (#15)

Life is so unjust sometimes, innit?