I made a big, thoughtless mistake today.
Under most circumstances, I have a tendency to characterize Shobhit as the one being unreasonable. And although it's never okay how he speaks to me when he's angry—a longstanding problem—he really had some standing in his feelings this time. He was clearly upset and hurt, to the point that I could hear the emotion in his voice, almost like he was on the verge of tears at points—that's an extraordinarily rare thing.
Shobhit had his campaign booth at the
Capitol Hill Pride March and Rally today, an event scheduled from 10 am to 10 pm. We had his booth set up by 10 am, but we had it broken down by 5:00. By that time, the four other Seattle City Council candidates
in the same line of
booths and tables had all long since broken down and moved on themselves, having discovered Capitol Hill Pride Festival (or apparently, more specifically, "Capitol Hill Pide March and Rally") had become but a vague shadow, a fraction of its former self.
Mind you, PrideFest Capitol Hill is a different event altogether, and organized by the Seattle Pride people who also put on the Pride Parade—not that your average attendee would know this. This whole thing is hard for even me to keep up with, and I pay far more attention to it than most people. People come from all over the region to attend Pride Weekend events, and most of them would just walk along Broadway, passing the corner of Broadway and Pine on their way to PrideFest, which actually starts up at Broadway and John. They probably just wonder why this area that seems like a comparatively pathetic satellite bunch of booths and a performance stage is even set up like this, so far from all the other action.
Furthermore, although Capitol Hill Pride Festival was getting increasingly cannibalized by PrideFest Capitol Hill for the past several years—thanks in large part to the latter beating the former to the punch at getting event permits for the stretch of Brodway they wanted—I am convinced that what ultimately killed Capitol Hill Pride Festival was
the controversy in 2021, after CHPF organizers
filed a complaint with the Seattle Human Rights Commission, over a separate event they had nothing to do with, "Taking B(l)ack Pride," over disagreement with them charging a "reparations fee" to White attendees.
I would disagree with them, but they could just have disagreed with what Taking B(l)ack Pride was doing. Did they need to file a human rights complaint over it? Absolutely not. In fact, the Seattle Human Rights Commission publicly—and rightly—stated that "The unique nature of your situation does not in fact violate any of your human rights as stated in the UN Declaration o Human Rights ... which is the charter by which our Commission operates."
Well, one of the other candidates tabling at their event today clearly brought it up to one of the organizers, who asked all the tablers gather around so she could "explain the controversy from a couple of years ago." She held court at the table at the south end, and I
took a picture of them talking for what seemed like an inordinately long amount of time, but I couldn't hear anything, as I stayed back at the table in Shobhit's booth. I really wish I could have heard the conversation.
But, Shobhit came back pretty well swayed by the woman's arguments, which apparently included details like her being half-Japanese, and that her grandparents were put in internments camps, and I kind of wasn't having it. I thought of this later, and wished I could have said this to the woman: no one is denying that those things are and were horrible, but they have no place in comparison to the struggles of Black Americans, which is an entirely different animal. Not only that, but inadequate thought it may have been, Japanese Americans
did get reparations payments, and got an official government apology–in the fucking
Reagan era, no less. You know what Black Americans have gotten? Absolutely nothing. The point is: their struggles are different, and no other non-Black people, White or otherwise, have any right to tell them how they should create space for themselves.
All this is to say: a lot of people felt the way I do, and it has clearly affected the success of the Capitol Hill Pride Festival. That doesn't mean Shobhit had any reason to expect this, however, and he invested a
lot in this, from the booth fee to buying the canopy and folding chairs.
So, it was not a good experience for him when Laney came to meet me for a long planned Happy Hour lunch, and we totally lost track of time. I had no idea until he pointed it out, and really kind of had to prove it to me while we were arguing about it at home later this evening, that we left him there, alone at his booth, for nearly four hours.
Three of the four other candidate booths had already packed up and left before I even went to meet Laney. "I need to go find a crowd!" one of them said. Only Ry's table was still up by 1:00, and even in that case Ry had gone to wander around campaigning and left a friend at their table. That one had packed up and gone by the time Laney and I returned.
And it had been four hours. I had helped set up, but I was only there with him from about 9:00—when we first went down—until around 1:00. And that was with a break to drive the car back home, and also try to drive to a locksmith that turned out to be closed, because I broke my car key off in the lock of the trunk. I probably was actually with him for a cumulative three hours, out of a total of eight that he was there. I didn't even realize that until I was literally writing this.
He had a right to be upset.
I met up with Laney at Capitol Hill Station at 1:00 or so, and we walked the length of PrideFest Seattle from Broadway and John to Broadway and Roy—a 0.4 mile stretch. Once at the north end, at Roy, we decided to go to The Deluxe for lunch.
I liked the idea of eating at one of the few remaining Capitol Hill institutions on Broadway. This may have happened anywhere we decided to eat, but they were slammed, of course, and it took nearly an hour just for us to get our food. On the upside, the grilled cheese sandwiches we both had were delicious, as they made them not only with huge quantities of cheese in between the bread, but with even cheese grilled into the
outside of the bread.
Laney had fries with hers and I had onion rings with mine. The meal was so insanely heavy, I never had dinner later. When Laney and I were in the car later, taking supplies back from Shobhit's booth to the condo, I commented on the carb crash I was feeling. I really felt like I could use a nap, and Laney was feeling the same way.
We both really liked our drinks, at least. She had a beer called an "Ice Dragon IPA" which she declared delicious, and which she ordered two of. I had a sweet drink that was also delicious, if too small, called a "Malibu Barbie": house infused strawberry vodka, lime juice, house simple, coconut cream, and raspberry puree, topped with house-made lime foam. (The topping seemed more like standard whipped cream to me.)
We then made our way back through the surprisingly thick crowd of PrideFest, down the half-mile on Broadway again. I got
a lot of pictures overall, actually
more than usual for Capitol Hill Pride events. A big part of the added number of photos, though, was the fact of Shobhit's campaign booth, my inadvertently long number of hours avoiding it notwithstanding.
Shobhit was so discouraged by the time we got back, he suggested I go and get the car. Laney came with me—another thing that upset Shobhit, as it left him there alone yet again—so she could use the bathroom. When we got the car back to Broadway and I parked it across the street, Laney helped us break everything down and load it, very efficiently packed, back into the car. I did ask what he wanted me to do, figuring he had a preference for what he wanted done first, and then came my least favorite part of the day: "Stand there and look pretty," he said. He was incensed that I had been away so long and lashing out. I chose not to address it right then and there, knowing it would lead nowhere productive, and not realizing at that point what a shitty move I had actually made.
After that, Shobhit decided to do some more walking to try in-person campaigning without the booth fo a while, and Laney came with me back to the condo again to help unload all the stuff. She actually was a huge help.
I then walked her back to Capitol Hill Station, and we said our goodbyes; she's not coming to the Pride Parade tomorrow as two days of Pride is too much for her to take, at least this year, and especially coming all the way up from Renton. I met up with Shobhit shortly thereafter, as he was not far off, and already deciding to head back home. We walked home largely in silence, until he realized I was still upset, and that led to some pretty heated, emotional arguing that ultimately delved into some pretty longstanding resentments.
Right now, at least, I'm feeling like we're in a slightly better place having purged ourselves like that. I can't say a lot has been fully resolved, but we are at a point from which maybe progress has been made. More importantly, I have no divergent plans with any other friends tomorrow, which is a new day, which, hopefully we can end feeling was productive and enjoyed.
