RADIOHEAD AT BLOCK PARTY

We saw you at Capitol Hill Block Party on Friday night wearing what looked like a convincing facsimile of a boom box on your head. That's one way to fast-forward yourself into a lot of photos.

LET'S ALL TAKE A SECOND TO HATE THE HATERS

We saw you, a young white dude walking into Neumos as if you were working there during Capitol Hill Block Party, wearing a black T-shirt emblazoned with the blunt statement "I HATE LOCAL MUSIC." Ballsy move, under the circumstances.

CATCHING POKÉMON AT SEA-TAC

You were at a Southwest Airlines gate in Seattle-Tacoma International Airport on Thursday. You sure looked weird as hell—denim shorts, Birkenstocks, sleep-deprived face—and the woman next to you, surrounded by her luggage, was looking at you with a tilted head. Not that you noticed. You were literally grumbling to yourself about there being too many Drowzees.

CATCHING POKÉMON ON A CROWDED BUS

As the RapidRide E line was making its way north through Belltown last Wednesday just after 7 p.m., there were so many passengers the bus driver started prohibiting any more people at bus stops from getting on. Everyone was all up in each other's laps, and the aisle was packed with standing passengers. We were one of those standing passengers, and while we did not want to spy at what you were doing on your phone, it was impossible to miss that you were catching Pokémon and having the best time. Then we looked away, and when we looked back down at you—we couldn't see your face, only the assisted gold of your hair—we saw you typing a text message to someone. The words you were typing were "Pokémon spirit journey." Horrified, we looked away.

MAN CARRYING GROCERIES HAS MACAULAY CULKIN MOMENT

We saw you—a man carrying groceries away from Trader Joe's on a recent Thursday afternoon—have a total Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone moment when the handles of your bags broke two blocks from the store. You had double-bagged each paper bag, but no matter: Those Trader Joe's handles are worthless. It looked like it might be about to rain. You fretted for a second, with busted bags, strewn groceries, and no way to carry them home. But then you thought of something. You got out your phone, and within moments, a Lyft with a pink mustache on its dashboard pulled up.

ODD COLOR EXTRUDES FROM DOG'S REAR END

You, a dog on a side street at dusk on Sunday evening in Ballard, pooped purple.

TWO RACCOONS WALKING DOWN THE STREET

You two crazy cats—striped, Hamburglar-esque, not cats at all—were sauntering down the sidewalk on East Olive Way past that former Online Coffee Company that for years has perpetually looked like it's about to reopen but only just finally did reopen, as Good Citizen. Raccoons are the craziest-looking wild animals, and mixed in among other pedestrians after dark these two almost looked human. A very tall man in a baseball cap and a Dina Martina T-shirt was walking up East Olive Way as the two raccoons were walking down, and when the man encountered nature's Hamburglars, he got visibly anxious, stepped in between two parked cars, ducked as if ducking would help, and then darted across the busy street to get away from the raccoons. A young couple walking down the other side of the street laughed at him, and yet another onlooker somewhere else called out, possibly to make fun of him, "Squirrel!" The overly frightened man later admitted that he had recently smoked cannabis.

THREE-LEGGED CHIPMUNK ON GRANITE MOUNTAIN

We saw you, a three-legged chipmunk, breathing quickly at the summit of Granite Mountain shortly after we achieved the summit ourselves. Reared up on your hind legs, we could see your right nub, totally furred over, bloodless, as if some god had simply twisted it off and tossed it off the mountaintop. You wanted some of our plum. Or some of our sandwich crumbs. Or maybe you just wanted another animal to gaze at you, and to hold the gaze without turning away. We couldn't tell. We tried to get a picture of you to publish in this column, but by the time we'd gotten our phone out and held it up, you were already too far away, running off on your three legs.