I Hate Seattle

I came to Seattle from a small town to attend college at UW. I did my best to like this place. I tried to fit in and be a Seattleite. In the end, I just couldn't and I will be leaving for beautiful San Antonio in about a year.
Here's why:

1. The weather. It is currently an afternoon in late April. It's currently 43 degrees and drizzling outside. It's been more or less like this since about the middle of September of last year. It's going to be like this for another two months. Sometime in early July, the sun will come out and the temperature will get about 70 for a few weeks. The locals will immediately start complaining about the heat, of course. After these few wonderful sunshiny weeks, the dark depressing drizzle will start again and envelop Seattle in a shroud for about 10 months. The locals always say how there is so much to do here outdoors. The window to do anything outdoors is basically July and August. Have you ever tried to go hiking sometime in the fall? I have and it's absolutely miserable. Fishing? Miserable. Jogging? Miserable. Barbecuing? Miserable. It's like constantly living in a damp moldy basement. The locals themselves don't do anything outdoors either. I've never seen so many adult World of Warcraft players in my life. The whole "outdoorsy Seattle person" is really just a myth.

2. The people. I have not made one friend who is actually from the Seattle area. My girlfriend is from Nevada, my best friend is from Chicago, and I'm friends with people from California, Texas, and a few other places. I can not name one native Seattleite who I am friends with. And it's not due to a lack of trying. Only in Seattle can a guy invite 20 people to a backyard barbecue only to have 1 person show up. The people here are very insular and unfriendly. Every time I try to be friendly to someone, they get this terrified look on their face or try to avoid making eye contact with me. I've noticed this more times than I can count. What is the deal with people not making eye contact? The only people who I seem to be able to have normal conversations with are non-native Seattleites or the weird hobos who hang out in downtown. People here are more content with living in their own little world and not even making an attempt at human connection.

3. The people. Yes, I know I have mentioned Seattle people before. But it is just so difficult to describe the people here to someone who doesn't live here.

Your typical Seattle guy: mid 20's - mid 30's, white, pale, scuzzy unkept beard, about 50 pounds underweight, thick rimmed glasses, man bag, works either as a techie, an artist, or for some non-profit, liberal, doesn't travel much outside of Seattle, poor hygiene, wears hiking gear year round, always has a smug "I'm superior to you" attitude, has a Sociology/Art History/Comparative History of Ideas degree from the UW, rides bike to work, no social skills whatsoever,

Your typical Seattle woman: mid 20's - mid 30's, white, pale, about 100 lbs overweight, works as an artist, for some non-profit, or as a secretary, doesn't travel outside of Seattle much, poor hygiene, wears hiking gear year round, smug bitch-like attitude, has a Women's Studies/[Insert name of ethnic group] Studies/Art History/ other bullshit degree from the uw, lack of social skills.

A couple observations about people here: Seattle is very much a group-think kind of town. Any diversity of opinion is not welcome here. Seattleites will be pleasant to you as long as you agree with them about everything. Seattleites don't handle ideas other than their own very well. The moment an idea different from their own viewpoint slips out of your mouth, they will either shun you or they will throw a hissy fit. (As in, they start yelling and screaming and swearing at you) You have no idea how many grown adults I've seen throw hissy fits around here.

Wow, it feels good to get that off my chest. I'll probably return later on with some stories of my adventures in Seattle or should I sate Shitattle.

I moved to this frozen rainforest about a year ago.

The friends I left behind consoled me, saying "Well, at least you'll have lots of good coffee!"

Well, it's been a year, and I'm still looking. I've visited dozens of coffee shops and coffee kiosks (many of then operated by bikini-clad fudge addicts), but the best I can say is that the coffee is about as appetizing as a mug of burned rubber. Seriously, the stuff tastes like a tire fire that was put out with skim milk.

At a "Coffee Roaster" coffee house (where you'd think they'd know a little bit about coffee) I asked if they served the "Cold Brew" style of coffee that was all the rage in other parts of the country. (This is coffee that is prepared, from start to finish, with cold water. It takes much longer to prepare, but if you know what you are doing, the flavor is rich, very smooth, a bit nutty, possesses a complexity almost like red wine, and has absolutely no bitterness.)

"Well, we can give you some French or Spanish Roast and put some ice in it for you."

At another coffee "boutique" I asked if they had any Medium Roast -- maybe a Mocha Java.
(Even Dunkin Donuts can do a decent Mocha Java)

"Medium Roast? No, we don't have any of that. But we can give you a French Roast and add some water to it."

Yeah -- and while you're at it, why don't you add water to some red wine to make your own white wine?

Gack!

After all this, all I can say is, if you are going to Mexico, don't drink the water.
And if you are going to Seattle, don't drink the coffee (same reason).

I used to love coffee until I moved here.

Of course, I don't mean Starbucks. Nothing against the original place, but the chains that cropped up all over America became (get this, Seattle) another personification of corporate America and the eradication of local culture via gentrification.

Sound familiar?

Right, see, the rest of the United States isn't this monolithic chain of strip malls and condos, with the only vestiges of authenticity left in the country being the underbelly of Fremont.

We can all appreciate irony: a city that laments its own gentrification and loss of identity contributing in its own way to the same phenomenon happening in suburbs, exurbs, small towns, and urban neighborhoods all over the country.

Every small town wants to protect its historic district after all, it's only natural to wax nostalgic.

For the record, I don't really hate coffee. One of the good things about this place is the roadside espresso stands.