BUYING A BRA DOWNTOWN

We saw you, a super cute teenage brunette in a plaid jacket, giggling and rolling your eyes at the "back fat"–eliminating bras with your lady pal in the lingerie department of the downtown Macy's. You're laughing now, but TRUST US—in a few years, you'll be LOVING these bras almost as much as you'll be loving your Spanx.

RUNNING DOWN THE STREET IN A SMOCK

We saw you running down the sidewalk with your hair-salon smock still on and your hair obviously in the process of being done. We watched to see what was about to happen, what it was you were doing, where you were headed looking like that and why, and soon enough you'd hustled yourself over to a parking meter. It was then that we understood. You paid for some more time, stuck the new sticker on the inside of your car's passenger side window, slammed the door, and hustled back to the salon to finish up. Good thinking. There is no point in having a good hair day if it ends in a fucking parking ticket.

PROJECTILE PBR AT HUGO HOUSE

You were sitting near the back row at what was likely to be the last-ever Cheap Beer and Prose at Hugo House. It was a Thursday night. The host was making jokes before introducing the readers. She said something about how she met her partner at a Hugo House reading and if anyone was there alone maybe they could meet someone too. Mingle during intermission, she suggested, "Share an e-cigarette." At that joke, you laughed so hard that you spit your beverage—we're assuming it was the PBR on special for $1—onto the back of the woman seated in front of you. She was wearing a black open-back dress and felt the cool, sticky liquid against her skin, but said nothing. You giggled.

BALLARD DESIGNER SIPS COFFEE

On an uncharacteristically sunny Saturday, you sat on the black leather couch at Ballard Coffee Works with wide black gauges in your ears and a tablet computer on your lap. In some sort of illustrating program, you and your stylus were toiling over one word: "Sip." You made it orange, then red, then orange again, then orange at the edges and red inside each letter. You spent so much time designing that one word, allowing yourself to be interrupted only to sip your iced coffee.

TELESCOPE AT 14TH AND THOMAS

We saw you at the corner of 14th Avenue and East Thomas Street. It was a clear night—not a cloud in the sky—and you set up a giant telescope on the sidewalk outside your apartment building. You were inviting passersby to take a look at a star. Maybe it was Venus? There was a scrum around the telescope, and everyone seemed very excited to have the opportunity to look at that star, or that planet, whatever it was. This small group of people on the sidewalk gazing up at a star—this experience you were providing to your neighbors—was every bit as breathtaking as whatever was in your telescope.

SUPER CHATTY UBER DRIVER

On a Tuesday evening, you, an Uber driver, picked us up almost seconds after we pressed the button. We were startled but grateful at how quickly you arrived. Within moments of getting in your car, you told us about a heated argument you had just witnessed at a nearby bar that almost broke out into fisticuffs. You proceeded to tell us, in great detail, more about the argument, as well as a number of other topics, both related and unrelated to the would-be bar fight. You never stopped talking for the entire ride. You drove us home safely, and for that we are also grateful. But afterward, we couldn't help but wonder if, aside from just being chatty, you may have also been on something.

WHEN YOU'VE GOTTA GO, GEORGETOWN EDITION

On a Saturday afternoon, you, a luxury porta-potty, were parked outside of the Charles Smith Winery in Georgetown. You are, by far, the most beautiful, spacious, and fresh-scented mobile restroom we have ever voided human waste in. Your full mirror, sink, and countertop with a vase of flowers made us feel so at home that we barely cared when—because we had failed to fully lock the door, perhaps because we were so distracted by your gleaming white walls—someone walked in to find us perched above the toilet and screamed loudly.

DOG ATTENDS HOMELESSNESS MEETING

At 11 a.m. on a Saturday, you sat among a small group of worried neighbors at the Salmon Bay location of the Fraternal Order of Eagles. The room was musty and lined with blue fabric benches along three walls. You toddled in alongside your owner with no need for a leash and caught the eye of everyone in the room, including city council member Mike O'Brien. You were, after all, probably a friendlier sight to the councilman than the neighbors who'd shown up to ask him why he wasn't doing more to get homeless people out of Ballard. As one woman rattled on about how "the crazy guy pacing" in the park is "not the kind of thing" she wants her 10-year-old daughter to see, you sighed and put your head between your paws. It was as if you'd become as disillusioned with these meetings—and humanity—as we have.