Hey Seattle, you're okay in my book!

It's important when you travel away from your city of residence to reflect. Most people leave for a time, and then find themselves glad to return home. They'll rediscover their favorite restaurants or bars, visit with the friends and/or family that they missed, and utter obnoxious platitudes like, "It's good to get away, but it's always good to come home."

Despite being The Average Broad, I am not most people.

Visiting Seattle was like being able to breathe again. Not even in the literal sense (although, did you know they don't have smog up there? Dude. They have blue sky.) In spite of the mutant death plague that had settled in my respiratory system, Day 1 brought EM, EM's boyfriend, Tee and I to a random bar nestled just beneath the Space Needle for shelter away from the frigid 50-something temperatures (Hi, yeah, Californians) and for something boozey to kick off VACATION TIME. Enter Hot Seattle Bartender.

In addition to Hot Seattle Bartender being really-really-ridiculously-good-looking, he met my challenge for "some kind of tasty drink" with what is known as a Perfect Manhattan. For those of you who don't know, a Perfect Manhattan is made entirely of whiskey and some other stuff that isn't whiskey, but makes the whiskey taste better in that 'one-drink-and-I-can't-feel-my-face' kind of way. Hot Seattle Bartender joked around with my travel companions and also gave us a list of recommendations right up my alley: the library (totally sweet, super modern building) and the art museum (one place we didn't have time to check out, sadly) and various bars for cool people (and, you know, we are cool people). Hot Seattle Bartender then brought me a Jack and ginger, which, I will admit to you now, I had never tried. It was love at first sip. Clearly, our positive experience on the first afternoon of our trip was a good omen for the rest of our time in the Washington city and our vacation ended up being spec-tac-u-lar. Dear Seattle, please export some hot bartenders (who are not dbags) to Los Angeles. Thanks.

Anyway, that's sort of a tangent. Seattle was awesome and beautiful and clean like a comedian nun or a virgin who's *actually* waiting for true love, and then we had to come back to the dirty ho-bag of a city that is L.A. It doesn't even have that dirty charm like New York and punk rock and bad boys. It's just dirty in that sad kind of way, like those dirty skinny kids in the commercials for third world charity.

City of Angels, my ass. Go to the Seattle City Center bar/restaurant under the Space Needle, ask for Danny, a.k.a. Hot Seattle Bartender, have him pour you a Perfect Manhattan and tell you about "fixies" and the coffee in Capitol Hill. It's like a good luck charm, and the rest of your time there will be the opposite of suck. Unless you're weird and don't like whiskey or hot bartenders or traveling or puppies or something, and if that's the case... I have my doubts about you.