Our Billionaire/University District/Sat May 19/8:15 am: Last night, a woman locked her blue door and went to sleep. At around midnight, her sleeping soul sunk deeper, nearing as it were the thin border between time and eternity. When she rose from death around 8:15 a.m., she felt sore all over her body. She then noticed archipelagos of fresh sperm on her mussed blankets, and something salty and sticky was in her mouth. Suddenly she realized the blue door of her room was wide open. She rose from bed and looked out of the window and saw a maroon or lime-colored van leaving a nearby parking space. She was unable to read the license plate, but she knew who was driving: Bill Gates of Microsoft! She called the police and reported the sex crime. But the cops did not believe her and asked for more details, more proof. More details? More evidence? Just then it occurred to her that the cops were not interested in uncovering the truth. Their job was not to protect her, but to protect the billionaire. She mumbled a few words about the fate of the poor, and the bought cops perfunctorily advised her to call them if Bill Gates returned to her room with the blue door.

Our Tourists/Downtown/Sat May 26/3:19 am: Tonight, a visiting Tacoma couple was on board a cruise ship, enjoying a romantic moment. The pair saw the string of sparkly lights on the floating bridge and the massive palace owned by Bill Gates, and soon their souls swelled like heart-shaped balloons. At some point in the evening, the Tacoma woman left to go the ladies' room, but when she returned to the deck she caught her man flirting with another woman. The instant the cruise ship docked near China Harbor restaurant, the Tacoma woman stormed down the cold plank, returned to the couple's downtown hotel, and prepared to leave Seattle. She packed her things, shut the suitcase, threw the hotel keys on the table, and started for the elevator. She met Mr. Unfaithful in the hallway. He grabbed her and dragged her back to the room, saying, "You're going to listen to my side of the story!" But it was too late: She had made up her mind to leave, and if he tried to stop her she'd call the cops. The man tried to reason with her, to keep her in the suffocating hotel room. She finally called the cops. The police came and arrested the still-imploring lover. Once he was gone, she regained her breath and left Seattle with a broken heart.

Our Friends/Capitol Hill/Sun May 27/9 am: A few weeks ago, a Vancouver, BC woman who knows little about computers asked her computer-sophisticated friend in Seattle to help her sell a car on eBay. The Seattle woman agreed to be the middle person. A week later, a man in Hollywood bought the Vancouver woman's car. But when the car arrived in L.A., the man was not pleased with its condition. Pissed, he called the middle person in Seattle and said, "Look, I don't know how you guys do business in Seattle, but you fucked with the wrong person." The Seattle woman attempted to explain her role, but the Hollywood man rejected her appeals and said, "I know where you live. I can have someone rape you, cut your legs off, and get rid of the body without anyone knowing." Clearly, the incensed buyer was nothing but a hack screenplay writer; nevertheless, the Seattle woman reported the incident to the police.

Our Home/Rainier Valley/Thurs May 31/3:54 pm: A woman was sleeping in the bedroom of her home when she heard male voices drifting from outside. Suddenly a champagne bottle crashed through the window and landed by her feet on the bed. Flung champagne foam formed an archipelago on the continent of her blanket. The voices outside dissipated, but the hard bottle remained on the bed like some evil object liberated from a bad dream.