The missive below is an email I sent to a former online correspondent - a Christian working in the Pentagon who took issue with my atheistic writings.  We exchanged many emails over the course of about two and a half months, back in late 1998 to early '99, and often would stray outside the realm of our religious discussion.

In 1998, I was working for Thiokol in Utah, a temp position that ended just prior to Xmas.  Since I was looking to get out of that state, I figured I might as well go job hunting somewhere else.  I'd been drawn to the Seattle area for a while, so I made plans to go up there for a week, for the purpose of job and apartment hunting.

The email reprinted below is my account of my trip there, interjected with bits of current commentary.  A memorable trip, to say the least.

I arrived in Seattle around 9:30, Saturday night [Dec. 26, 1998].  It was raining.  I appropriated my rental car and, armed with insufficiently detailed maps, attempted to take a shortcut to Auburn, where I'd booked a motel room.  (It was the cheapest I could find, a requirement of my limited budget.)

My shortcut... wasn't.  I have no idea where I drove, but eventually I found a major thoroughfare to get me to Auburn.  Auburn, by the way, was the home town of Dick Scobee, the commander of Challenger's last ride.

I found the motel, arriving there in the neighborhood of eleven P.M.  And within minutes, I wished I'd spent the extra bucks for something a little nicer. 

The first thing I encountered was the "kitchenette."  This was comprised of a big porcelain sink that had seen better days, a range top with two electric burners that looked as though they might spontaneously burst into electrical mayhem (and one of which was semi-depressed into the range top so as to only partially touch any pan placed upon it), and a refrigerator (under the range!) that, I would find, was cold enough to partially freeze a Dr Pepper, but warm enough to keep a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream in a state of partial liquidity.
        

Entering the bedroom area, I flipped on the light switch.  A warm glow erupted from a lamp on the wall.  This was a gold-tone, art deco monstrosity right out of the early 70s.  U-G-L-Y.  And it didn't throw enough light to read by even if it weren't the whole way across the room from the bed.  I noticed, however, a large lamp on the desk next to the bed.  This, of course, had loose wiring in the socket, so it would abruptly shut off at the most annoying moments.  All was not lost, however.  There was yet another light:  a naked bulb on the wall just above the head of the bed.  This was sufficient for reading, but only if I was on the bed.  If I wanted to read, say, a phone book while at the phone across the room, I was pretty much outta luck.
        

Oh, and the phone was not set up to allow outside calls without a calling card, or collect.  Even local ones.  [Obviously, this was before I obtained a cell phone.] And the TV had no remote, and certainly nothing beyond basic cable.

Then we have the bathroom.  A spot on the floor right in front of the sink was depressed, making me think that I might fall through at any moment.  I stepped over this spot whenever I was awake enough to remember.  The shower stall was tiny!  I had barely enough room to raise my arms to wash my hair.  And it wasn't recessed, either...  If I would walk straight into the bathroom without veering right, I'd smack into the wall for the shower.  This also meant that, without thinking about it, I could turn away from the toilet and also smack into the wall for the shower.  That tends to wake you up at 3 A.M., lemme tell ya.
        

On the plus side, the water there was very soft.  I had to use very little conditioner to keep my [then] long hair from being a tangled mess.
        

Okay, so that's the motel.
        

The following day, Sunday, I drove around to explore some neighborhoods.  It was raining again.  It's not exactly easy to "explore" while on unfamiliar roads in the rain.  And these roads were bizarre.  I know it's not unique to Washington state, but I'd never experienced this before:  many of the roads didn't have lines painted on them.  In place of lines, they had dots.  Raised dots, made of hard plastic or something.  Not dots on top of lines.  Just dots.  They mimicked the lines, so if it was a passing zone, you'd have a strip of half a dozen dots, then space, then another half dozen dots.  It was kind of bizarre, but neat, too, since if you strayed over too far and hit the dots, you'd get a rumbling noise that would remind you to get yer butt back over to your own side of the highway.
        

Anyway, I checked out some neighborhoods, like Kent and Renton.  Since I had an appointment the following day in Bellevue, I zipped up there to make sure I knew where I was going.  I looked at some apartment communities, finding some I liked, others I didn't.
        

I returned to the motel with Taco Bell in hand for lunch.  While I was inside eating, it stopped raining.  When I went out again, it started up again.
        

My appointment Monday morning was with a staffing service.  Yippee.  It was a lovely morning, sunny and pretty.  By the time I left the office, it was raining again.
        

The rest of my day was spent looking at more apartments.

On Tuesday, I had no appointments, so I spent the day making a couple.  Many places were unable to accommodate me during the time I was there.  It was then that I began to seriously acknowledge that I'd chosen a really stupid week to go job hunting in another city.  It was a short week, too, Friday being New Year's Day.  And some places, like the temp agency that specializes in high-paying positions, were closed all week.
        

At any rate, it didn't rain Tuesday, so I decided to make the best of my evening by going out.  I don't recall now what I did, but it wasn't much fun, I can guarantee that.

On Wednesday, I had two appointments.  The first was right in Seattle itself, so it was my first time in the actual city.  This was with an environmental company.  I received an email from them today [Jan. 15, 1999] saying that they've decided to put off hiring for that position until April, but would like to talk with me then, since they were impressed with me.  [They never called.]
        

Having some time before my afternoon meeting, I went to the Space Needle.  It was pretty cool, but I couldn't help but make the comparison to being atop the Empire State Building in NYC, and there is no comparison.  It wasn't raining, but it was hazy, so I wasn't able to see much. 
        

The afternoon meeting was another agency, but not a temp agency.  Don't ask me what they are.  I'm not sure.  Had a long chat with a frightening woman named Tanya, who said she didn't have anything right now that was quite up my alley, but she'd be in touch.  Yeah, right.  [And she never called, either.]
        

Returned to Auburn and went out that night to the "Supermall."  I wasn't sure what to expect, being used to the mall in King of Prussia, PA (which, the last time I was there, had something like 365 stores).  At any rate, the "Supermall" fell far short of that.  But while it didn't have all that many stores, some of the ones it did have were fairly cool.  Especially a bookstore called, of all things, "Foozles."
        

Foozles didn't have the variety of, say, Barnes & Noble or Borders.  But what it lacked in selection, it more than made up for in price.  I bought four books, with a total cover price of about $75.00, and paid under $25.00 for them, including tax.  Astounding!
        

Have I mentioned that the walls in the motel were paper thin?  No?  Well, I discovered this upon returning, when the couple next door had sex and I heard every bump and grind.  I wouldn't have cared so much if I hadn't been trying to sleep at the time...
        
Thursday was spent mostly inside, waiting for calls that never came.  Pity, since it was another nice, rainless day.  Went to Foozles again that night.  Four more books.  Cover price, $80, still under $25 with tax. 
        

The neighbors next door didn't have sex this night, but they did have a fight.  I got the general impression that the guy was a real jerk and that his female companion (despite the previous evening's activities) should take a hike and leave the loser.

Friday, New Year's day.  No rain again.  Boring day.  Went to the mall again, but didn't buy anything.  Oh, I might point out that I drank more coffee during this week than I would in a typical year.  [At least, back then.  Not today.]  The 7-11 next to the motel even had a machine that would make real lattes!  Not the "instant" ones most machines provide, but actual lattes, with the bottles of flavored syrup sitting next to it!  Way cool!
        

Another fight next door.  Worse than the previous one.  Lots of name calling and the woman complaining about not getting enough sex.  Geez, lady!  It's only been two days!

Saturday.  No rain.  Drove around some more, but that was about it.  Checked out Tacoma and Federal Way.  Tacoma, or at least the area I was in (along the waterfront), was lovely.  Packed my stuff upon returning.
        

I was relieved that the neighbors seemed to be out for the evening.  I was looking forward to a good night's sleep, since I had to get up early to take the rental car back and go to the airport.
        

However, I couldn't sleep.  Maybe it was the anticipation of going home.  Maybe it was the fact that my back hurt.  More likely it was all the sugar I'd consumed that day.  But I tossed and turned from eleven P.M. to 1:30.
        

Then the neighbors came home and boy, what a fight was going on!  This was serious nastiness.  I won't even begin to repeat some of the language I heard, from both of them.
        

The following two and a half hours were pretty interesting, in a morbid way.  I learned that it was the guy's birthday.  He'd turned 29 that day.  I also learned that he'd evidently been in jail for something or other (no surprise to me) and that this woman was actually his wife.
        

(Interesting side note... while flipping through channels on TV the other day, I came upon the Jerry Springer show.  There were these two guys on the show that could have been my motel neighbor's brothers!  Scary!  But that gives you an idea of what kind of guy this was.)

I also learned that the sex I'd overheard a few nights before hadn't been between him and his wife!  She accused him of having sex with someone there.  He denied it.  Then she says that she found some soiled underwear under the bed... underwear that matched the bra he'd recently given her!
        

I almost burst out laughing.  This idiot has a tramp in, she leaves her underwear behind, he finds the bra and gives it to his wife as a gift!!!  Unreal!

So does he 'fess up at this point?  No.  He says... get this... that the underwear are his!

This, of course, causes her to call him a pervert, etc...  [Note that I mentioned the underwear were "soiled."]  Oh, it just went on and on.  I can't even remember the stuff I heard, now.  My final analysis was that these were two people who either deserved each other, or shouldn't be allowed in the same state at the same time.  He was a lying butthead to the extreme, but she was a whining, spineless airhead.
        

At four o'clock, I finally had enough.  I threw my stuff in the car and headed to Denny's for breakfast. 
        

Why didn't I either bang on the wall, notify management, or call the cops?  Management wouldn't have done anything, and the other two options might have gotten this dude to get violent, and I didn't need that, thanks very much.
        

So I dined at Denny's, checked out of the motel at seven, and was on my way home.  Sleepless from Seattle.