Waiting for the Torch
Leaving Belltown early in the afternoon, heading for CHBP, Seattlest was surprised to find that Fourth Avenue had been transformed into a sort of military corridor, complete with traffic cones, bleachers and hundreds of those canvas armchairs with cup-holders. Right, the Torchlight Parade! That's tonight, isn't it? But what were all those poor shlubs doing, sitting in those chairs, soft drink in hand, waiting, with the infinite patience of the out-of-towner, for the first float, the first drill team and the first convertible (topped by an oversize princess), not to materialize for five, six, seven hours?
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