195 and 196) It’s a 2-for-1 special! You know, I’ve been at this project for about six months and I still get surprised by some things. Downtown certainly has the highest concentration of mailboxes of anywhere in the city; there are some stretches that have a string of them spaced a block apart. But this just might be the closest I’ve found two boxes… they are across the street from each other, separated by about half a block. Why does this block get two boxes and the ferry terminal gets zero? Call the city council and demand answers.

194) A box of opportunity! A box of opportunity! I was casually enjoying a burrito at the Taco Del Mar in this tiny shopping center when I remembered that I had a letter with me that needed a-mailing. And then I remembered that there was allegedly a mailbox across the parking lot, in front of TJ Maxx. Well, as you can see, all these things came together in a splendid moment when I was able to post my letter and get the picture… all after finishing my delicious burrito, of course.

193) I really, really, REALLY want to get to the top of that building. This well-meaning mailbox claimed he could get me there. He told me that all I had to do was “hang on and believe!” Well, I grabbed on, wished with all my might, and four hours later was told to move along by a security guard.

192) Did you watch the recent Twin Peaks season on Showtime? If so, then this photo will make perfect sense to you. I’m wearing a t-shirt with the names of four deceased musicians. The crosswalk sign flashes a “2? while the bus responds with a “C.” But who is this CAMO (or CAMQ?) who visited this mailbox? Another visitor to the Dark Lodge, perhaps?

191) Once again, I give my thanks to the kind civic leaders who worked to have these handy exercise stations installed throughout the city. This one, located in a particularly tourist-heavy location, presents the perfect opportunity to get in a set of dips before going upstairs to watch people throw fish.

190) Normally, mailboxes are not too happy about being tagged. They find it to be unsightly and rather violating. This guy, however, absolutely loves the vibrant yellow on h is side. “It’s like springtime all year ’round,” he might yell, if only he weren’t an inanimate object.

189) Most mailboxes are genuinely excited to get a visitor. Let’s face with, with fewer and fewer people stopping by to drop in some mail, the boxes are getting a bit lonely. Then there’s this guy. I have never encountered a more standoffish mailbox. Just look at how he has kept everyone away. That utility pole used to be ten feet farther to the south, but it has slowly crept away to put some distance between him and Mr. SourPants. I couldn’t even get close without picking up some really bad vibes, man.

 

XXX) It’s time for my least favorite game… The Box of Disappointment! For some odd reason, I had been looking forward to visiting the mailbox at the Alaskan Way ferry terminal. There was something about this box that seemed so… so… so Seattle to me. Can you dig it? When the time finally came to pay it a visit, I could hardly contain myself as I darted across Alaskan and started scanning for it… and coming up empty. It was gone. No more would it receive the postcards written by ferry passengers on trip from Bainbridge Island. As you can see, I decided to just stand around and pout for a while. Shut up, you would have done the same.

188) Well, this sturdy double-wide mailbox will certainly provide a nice resting spot while I check out this local weekly publication. Yes sirree, there’s nothing like catching up on the local happenings while strolling through downtown. Hey, would you look at that! That’s me! That’s me!

187) Sometimes I can get away with just standing next to the mailbox when posing with it, but that wasn’t the case with this guy. It doesn’t really come through in this photo, but this is one of the squirreliest mailboxes I’ve ever encountered… jumping all over the place, running up the trees, that sort of thing. It took everything I had to hold it in place long enough to get the photo. Who knows where it is now.