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Ivan loves the Marrakesh restaurant here in Seattle, located on Belltown on the corner of Second and Battery. He and Shobhit and Alexia and I all went down there for dinner last night, making it the first time I've gone with Alexia; the third time I've gone with Shobhit; and fifth time I've gone with Ivan—in as many years, incidentally: first time in 2017, when he lived with us the second time; once in 2018 and twice in 2019, all three of those times during visits to Seattle when he lived elsewhere. The last time, in early August 2019, was right before he left for his year in New Zealand.
I actually have photos from
all but one of the times I've been there with Ivan. I took
six shots last night alone, half of them being used in this very DLU (Daily Lunch Update), the most I've ever taken in one visit. It basically qualifies as the first of two "goodbye dinners" with Ivan before he moves out on Monday.
At first, it was going to be a dinner at Saffron Grill. And, it was going to be on Thursday
last week, when I thought I would be on my Birth Week vacation this week. But, coming down with covid last week precluded any dinners out last week, and even last night kind of barely happened. Last year, we actually went out to eat twice, the four of us, at Saffron Grill, and we even made a tentative plan to make it a monthly outing. We had the four of us gone in July and also in November, thinking we would return again in December or maybe in January after the holidays—and then the Omicron wave happened. By February and March, when we theoretically could have gone, it was just a matter of scheduling and getting us all four together again.
So when we first made plans for Saffron Grill Thursday last week, after Ivan decided he'd be leaving, he asked if we could to The Marrakesh instead. I said okay. And then Shobhit and I got sick.
Well, Shobhit suggested a birthday dinner on Saturday at Saffron Grill, which I personally would have preferred. So, a few days ago, I asked Ivan if he had dinner plans on Saturday (which is also his birthday, incidentally) and he said no. At first he said he had plans last night and may not be able to make dinner, but I kind of put my foot down about Saturday—my own birthday dinner, I'm choosing where I go, so it'll be Saffron Grill—and the only day I could do The Marrakesh would be Thursday, as I had movie plans with Tracy on Wednesday and am officially starting my Birth Week today. So, Ivan relented and said he could do The Marrakesh on Thursday—as well as Saffron Grill on Saturday.
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Alexia had texted me a couple of days ago asking if we would be walking. Shobhit and I were both not up for walking the distance of nearly two miles both to dinner and back—we both still tire pretty easily. He suggested we drive down and just pay for parking, so that's what we did: Ivan had said he'd be available for dinner at 7:00, so I made a reservation for 7:15—something we quickly realized when we arrived was not even necessary as they were never full. Which was just as well in the current climate anyway.
We met out in the hallway at 6:50, not knowing how long it would take to find parking. Alexia rode with us in our car for the first time, which probably made the most sense for us to take as Alexia's is a giant SUV and we'd have better luck finding street parking. And it did take us probably fifteen minutes of driving around in circles until we finally found a spot, and I opened the parking app to pay . . . 32 cents. The we rushed up 2nd Avenue to The Marrakesh and got there probably between five and ten minutes late for our reservation time, which really didn't matter in the end anyway.
Even though it had been three years since Ivan was last there, one of our waiters recognized him from before, and even misremembered that Ivan had once lived in Morocco—actually, he
merely visited in February 2018. That, in fact, had been part of a trip to Spain and Morocco that was his first destination after moving out the last time, before another couple of months roaming around Eastern Europe. He probably told the waiter during one of the previous dinners that he was thinking of living there or some shit, but Ivan's living arrangement plans can change by the month sometimes. I only just learned last night he now plans to stay with his parents in Pennsylvania for a while after his travels to British Columbia and Alaska through the month of May (and those things I know for sure will happen, as he's actually booked them).
The waiter indicated he was actually from Morocco, though not from Marrakesh specifically. Ivan asked him where but I forget what the answer was. The photo of Ivan above, of just him laughing, was taken during that exchange between him and the waiter. I showed it to Ivan, saying, "You probably won't like this very much but I do." Ivan considered it for a second before saying, "That's ridiculous!" Okay, whatever. His standards for a decent photo of him remain mysterious and indecipherable.
In fact, our main courses had arrived—the only thing we order from the menu, the other four courses standardized and always vegetarian; the lentil soup is amazing—and Ivan had asked me to take a photo of him with his plate. I asked the waiter to take a photo of all of us first, hence the shot at the top of this post. He took two shots, and unfortunately neither was the best shot of all four of us together; the one you see was just the better of the two. The other one, I just
cropped so it showed only Alexia and Ivan. It's a much better shot of the two of them, but in the original shot showing Shobhit and me to the right, we aren't smiling quite right, in the middle of the waiter taking his photos. So I just cropped us out of that shot.
I always get the same thing when I go there, this eggplant dish with a tomato and cheese sauce on it. Before that, we get the lentil soup, a truly delicious salad with small sliced cubes of cucumber and tomato, an odd but tasty savory pastry filled with a kind of scrambled egg but topped with powdered sugar called
b'stilla. Then, after the entrees, we got a small coconut pudding dessert and then mint tea. Alexia was impressed enough with the place that she talked about coming back sometime with her son, Bram, who I think is maybe just a few years younger than Ivan.
We were there probably just a bit longer than an hour and a half, leaving shortly after 9:00. We had a few blocks to walk back to the car, Shobhit and Alexia boring Ivan and me with their talk about politics and economics. I asked Ivan if he was getting anxious, or just excited. "Both," he said. "Excited, and anxious . . . for my next adventure." I indicated that basically sums up his life, frequent cycles of a short-lived job he uses just to save up enough for his next adventure.
If he does indeed find a travel nursing job in New England, and who the hell knows if that's actually what happens, he'll be pretty far from here for a while again. When he and I first met, it was in April 2014, just days before he turned 29. I've known him for eight years now, which has been interesting because I've basically witnessed his transition from young man to middle-aged man. The nine year difference between us is a pretty good number of years, but I've spent a lot of time thinking of him as "so young" . . . but, well, he'll be 37 tomorrow. It's not really that young anymore. He's still an incredibly attractive man, but as of last year he'd developed a bit of a paunch, which he seems fine with; he even told me a few years ago he actually
wanted to gain a few pounds, which I never understood. I'll be 46 tomorrow, and I seem to care less about that than I have a whole lot of birthdays prior.
Who knows how sustainable this nomadic lifestyle is of Ivan's, long term. Hell, maybe he will indeed live this way for as long as he's still breathing. Right now it seems more likely than not, but as I've already indicated, predicting anything with him is futile. All I can say is what won't ever surprise me again. Twice before he's moved out with me convinced that was it and he'd never live with us again. And maybe he won't this time. Probably, I suppose. But if it does happen again, in a year, two years, a decade, it will no longer be a surprise. And neither will his inevitably moving on again within a year. I do feel strongly that eventually he'll be back to visit again if nothing else, and the guest room will always be here for him to stay in—still with both the bed and the dresser he furnished it with himself back in late 2016.
Complete side note, we also got to talking with Alexia about her frequent trips to Alaska for work, and she suggested I could travel with her sometime if I can find a place to stay. More likely than not, this would be to Anchorage. I love this idea, mostly because, like going to Syracuse, New York with Danielle in 2019 or visiting Barbara in Louisville last month, I love taking any new opportunity to visit a random new place. I really didn't think I'd ever visit Alaska again, but hey. Maybe I will!
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[posted 12:24 pm]
