Category Archives: Community

CHS Fiction | Cascade 3: Bootcamp, Zoom and Slack, Cal Anderson Park

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cal Anderson Park
One hundred feet away from Karen, Tamara was also on Zoom. In one corner of a grid of boxes, a hungover man in a suit was speaking.

“And then we have Susan at the Chamber of Commerce next Wednesday for their luncheon, and that afternoon she’ll do the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new light rail station. Then back to the capitol as we wrap the legislative session. Did I miss anything, Tamara?”

Tamara unmuted herself. “Nope, that’s it.” Of course it was, because he was reading from the brief she’d provided.

“Susan, was there anything on your end?” said the man with the hangover. Continue reading →

CHS Fiction | Cascade 3: Bootcamp, Zoom and Slack, Cal Anderson Park

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Story by J.J. Krause

Zoom and Slack
Later that day, Karen flipped on her Ring Light, checked her teeth in her webcam, and clicked “Join.” Her computer belched a chord and her screen transformed into a collection of boxes, each framing a baby face.

“Good Morning!” she said brightly. There were mumbles and nods, then silence. She grinned into the camera. She hated this part…

She looked at the other boxes. Most had blurred backgrounds. Where do these children live? Dorms? Karen’s background was a clean white wall, with a piece of framed art—a faux-antique map of Paris—next to a somewhat spindly fiddle-leaf fig. And Karen’s skull was positioned perfectly between them.

Finally, someone cleared their throat. It was a twenty-four-year-old boy—the CEO, Christoph, whose glistening hair formed a voluptuous swoop over his head. Continue reading →

CHS Fiction | Cascade 2: Madison Park Beach, Home Economics, and Morning in Bellevue

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. Want to skip ahead? Get the book.

Morning in Bellevue
It was 5:30am on Monday and Dave was already in Bellevue, on the 21st floor of a concrete castle. He was at Sanford & Co, his office—the feudal HQ itself.

He entered the bathroom in bike shorts, and, in two minutes flat, emerged as a finance professional: donned in a Brooks Brothers button-down and Costco wool pants, both billowing heterosexually as he walked down the sterile hallway. Through gold plated doors, he waved at Kristy, the blonde behind the front desk. He crossed the trading floor, a pen of low-rise cubicles each with four monitors, graphs aglow shining onto frowning male faces. It was eerily quiet. Weaving to the edge of the room, he found his own cube, with one monitor, next to a middle-aged Indian woman named Rana.

“Happy Monday,” she whispered.

“You too,” said Dave, sliding into his chair. Pulling up his emails, he felt the numbness set in. Across the room, he could see a window, and outside the window, he could see the lake. Yesterday, surrounded by men in speedos drinking rosé, felt a world away.

At 6am, the traders spun their chairs around for the huddle. Dave listened in, glancing over the cubicle wall.

An older man with a long face and a missing upper lip began. “We have to gross up this week. Valuations are absurd but retail flows are stronger than ever. I know people are cautious, but we need to hit our targets for leverage. Pick your best positions and extend them.”

Frowning faces all around.

“It’s a weak macro week. We’re past CPI. The ten year is chopping. Semis are running on the AI theme. It’s risk on. Don’t fight the tape. Barry, you go first with retailers.”

An overweight man with thick black glasses cleared his throat. “We have a few companies reporting this week, mainly off-price and dollar stores. Margins aren’t coming down at all. And the K-shaped bifurcation theme seems to be holding up—high end is spending, low end under pressure.”

“So back to normal?” said the older man.

“Yes. As long as the stock market rips, the high end spends. Rates impacts seem to be a wash so far—any credit constriction is offset by interest income. Not seeing any problems.”

“You looking at the SNAP expirations?”

“Yes we are shorting a few of the affected retailers.”

“Great. Gross up. Let’s do financials next.”

A lanky young man hesitantly stood. “We’re still evaluating the CRE situation, but unfortunately we hit a few stop-losses on shorts with the rally—”

“Triston,” interrupted the old man, “I’m gonna stop you right here.”

Triston nodded, clearing his throat.

“I want to be clear,” continued the older man, “We need beta. You’re overthinking this. You don’t need to map out the future of the banking industry. Respect momentum. Follow the Reddit boards if you need to. Nobody cares about these risks until banks are blowing up. Have you ever hiked Mount Rainier?”

“Excuse me?” said Tristan.

“Mount Rainier,” said the man, “have you hiked there?”

“Sure, yes,” said Tristan.

“It’s an active volcano. Were you worried about an eruption?”

“I see what you’re saying.”

“We’re benchmarked against funds that are invested. Skepticism is worthless in a multi-decade multiple expansion. Everyone knows there is a Fed backstop. Look at the political context — the White House wants this market higher. Add to your longs. We need more out of you.”

Deflated, Tristan sat back down. “Yes, I’ll get on that.”

“Next up is materials.”

The huddle moved quickly. At 6:15am, they all swiveled back to their screens, and at 6:30am, the market opened. The sound of clacking keyboards increased slightly, but beyond that, the room remained silent.

Dave started blankly at his screen, thinking about the update. Valuations are ridiculous… doesn’t that mean we should sell? Dave wasn’t on the investment side, so his opinions didn’t matter, but he often wondered if his better-compensated colleagues knew what they were doing. Didn’t they read Minsky? The house of cards had to crumble any day now…

But the White House wants the market higher? Does the president get to decide how rich we are? These days, it seemed the more screwed up politics became, the higher the markets went. The market, after all, was just a reflection of the delusions and distortions of American society at large—and there was no shortage there. Maybe I should be less bearish, thought Dave.

“Did you see the redemption request?” whispered Rana over the wall, snapping him out of his thoughts, “We need the paperwork today.”

“I thought we sent that to India last week,” Dave whispered back.

“They fucked it up,” said Rana, “can you do it?”

“Sure,” said Dave, scrolling through a convoluted chain of messages with a pension fund.

“Should we send it back to India and have them try again?” Dave asked, craning his neck into her cube, his eyes betraying distaste for the artificial plants she’d arranged on her desk.

“There’s no time. And they’re incompetent. Just do it.”

Dave nodded, returning to his screen. But just then the old man, Dick Sanford, walked up.

“Dave,” he said, staring into his phone, “where are we with the deck?”

“Uh,” said Dave, cycling through screens on his computer, “looks like we updated all the charts last week.”

“We’re gonna need to redo that,” Dick replied, “we got back some revised trade data from Goldman. And we need to fix the formatting. Did you make the changes?”

“You mean updating it to the latest style guide?”

“No, I thought we talked about this. Warren’s girlfriend works at an advertising agency and they suggested some things.” Raising his voice, he spoke across the room, “Warren, did you send Dave the notes on the fundraising deck?”

From the other side of the room, a young man—also with a long face and a missing upper lip—turned from his screens and said, “Yes I did.”

“Find the email,” said the older man, “We need the deck to be more professional. We need to look like the funds in New York, not some Seattle backwater. We can’t raise money with a deck that looks like a school assignment. ”

“Got it, I’ll look,” said Dave, flustered.

The man glanced at Rana’s desk. “Is this the latest Seattle Times?” he said, picking up the paper, which was open to the Food section (Rana had a passion for brunch).

“Yes,” she replied.

“Do we subscribe to this?”

“Yes, we get all the papers.”

“Well we probably don’t need this one,” said the man, flipping to the business section. His lip-less mouth curled sideways as he glanced at the lead article. “Look at this nonsense,” he said. The column was titled, “It was Transitory, The Transition Just Took Time,” by Bill Lorie, PhD.

“These academics,” said Dick, speed-reading, “if they only knew…”

Dave and Rana mumbled their support in unison, staring at their boss intently. Dave had read the piece and reluctantly agreed with Dick’s assessment; Rana hadn’t and didn’t care but was worried about losing the food section.

“What are they teaching in the schools? Does this guy really thinking printing $5 trillion and sending checks had no impact?” Dick asked, to nobody in particular, shaking his head. “Actually,” he said, “this might help us understand retail investors better. Maybe we should keep getting it. Mind if I take it?”

“Of course not,” said Rana to the old man’s back as he walked away.

They turned back to their computers. Dave heard the whooshing noise of a new email coming into his inbox. It was from Warren Sanford, with the subject line, “Fundraising Deck Design Notes.”

It was 6:45am in Bellevue and Dave couldn’t wait to bike back home.

CASCADE 1: Going Downhill | A Failed Homosexual |.Crypto Karen | New Neighbors

CASCADE 2: Madison Park Beach | Home Economics | Morning in Bellevue

J.J. lives in Seattle and can frequently be found on foot trekking up and down hills, stopping only to record one-liners and half-baked ideas.

 

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CHS Fiction | Cascade 2: Madison Park Beach, Home Economics, and Morning in Bellevue

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. Want to skip ahead? Get the book.

Home Economics
Above the fray at Madison Park Beach, a 1995 manual-transmission Volvo station wagon rolled past. The body of the car was covered in bird shit, and the engine made a squealing noise, causing beach revelers to tilt their heads to see what the commotion was. At the wheel was Dr. Bill Lorie, a heavy-set man with shoulder length grey hair and a beard that framed a red, excitable face. He looked like a mix between Santa Claus and a shih tzu.

The man spotted an open parking spot—a reverse diagonal spot as is common in Madison Park. Pulling forward, he shifted into reverse and slowly eased back, a high-pitched metallic whine emitting from under the vehicle. On the front patio of Cactus, the Mexican restaurant, diners put down their margaritas and turned to the street as Bill revved the engine unsteadily.
Bill’s tail bumper edged dangerously close to a BMW X5. Continue reading →

CHS Fiction | Cascade 1: Going Downhill, A Failed Homosexual, Crypto Karen, New Neighbors

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. In this installment, we meet Dave, Karen, and Tamara on a weekend day as an unexpected heatwave hits Seattle. Want to skip ahead? Get the book.

New Neighbors
As Karen led her son back home, they passed a woman unloading a box from an orange Chevy Bolt at the house next door. Karen did a double-take. New neighbor?

From behind the box, Tamara saw Karen and Albie. They made eye contact and exchanged almost-imperceptible nods. A Seattle greeting.

Tamara hoisted the box through the door of a squat house, inside of which was her new roommate: an eighty-year-old woman clutching a walker.

“Let me help, Tam,” pleaded Rose, “what can I do?”

“Nothing. Sit down.”

Two French bulldogs were running in circles around the living room. Rose eyed them nervously. “Are they supposed to be breathing like that?” Continue reading →

CHS Fiction | Cascade 1: Going Downhill, A Failed Homosexual, Crypto Karen, New Neighbors

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. In this installment, we meet Dave, Karen, and Tamara on a weekend day as an unexpected heatwave hits Seattle. Want to skip ahead? Get the book

Crypto Karen
Cha-ching! Karen Chang did it again!

Her phone dinged as her trade was confirmed. Trading crypto on weekends was lucrative; nobody was paying attention—except Karen. And now that she’d reaped a little windfall, it was time to get back to her other weekend gig: motherhood.

It was Sunday, so Karen was on the clock. Today there was a soccer game at the Washington Park Playfield, and Karen and Albie were late.

“Do you have your stuff?” she cried, noticing the time. Continue reading →

CHS Fiction | Cascade 1: Going Downhill, A Failed Homosexual, Crypto Karen, New Neighbors

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Story by J.J. Krause

Cascade is a serialized satire about four Seattleites –– a failed homosexual, a crypto-obsessed mom, a party-girl-turned-caretaker, and an unorthodox professor, all trying to hold it together in a world coming apart. Catch updates every few weeks on the Capitol Hill Seattle Blog. In this installment, we meet Dave, Karen, and Tamara on a weekend day as an unexpected heatwave hits Seattle. Want to skip ahead? Get the book.

A Failed Homosexual
Dave scrunched his nose as he entered his apartment—it smelled of cat litter, decomposing carpet, and stale pizza from Zeek’s. The windowsill air-conditioning unit was rattling. On a sectional facing a TV too big for the space, he spotted hair—shaved into severe, militaristic crew cut—peeking above the backrest.

“Morning,” said Dave, in a voice that was surprisingly soft for a man so tall.

No response. Netflix was on. Dave dumped the bananas in the kitchen and glanced at his roommate. Rob was slouched on the sofa in sweatpants, swiping. Dave caught a glimpse of his screen: a shirtless man. Then—swipe—another. Continue reading →

Capitol Hill Community Post | Pedestrian hit by car at 13th & Cherry — Calling for witness information

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From a friend of the victim

On Thursday, August 7 around 4 p.m., a resident of Seattle’s Central District was struck by a vehicle in the crosswalk at the intersection of 13th Avenue and Cherry Street. The victim, an Asian man in his 40s, sustained serious injuries including a broken ankle that required surgery, a broken shoulder, and a head laceration. The driver stopped, exited the vehicle, and is believed to have called the ambulance that arrived on the scene, but at present the driver remains at-large with no information currently available from authorities. The victim is calling for any information from the community.

 

CAPITOL HILL COMMUNITY POSTS 
Have a Capitol Hill related issue people should know about? Anybody can post on CHS. Contact [email protected] to learn more.

 

The vehicle is described by the victim as a golden-ish, light brown car that approached Westbound on Cherry Street and did not stop as it drove through the crosswalk at 13th Avenue. The driver is described as a slender White male, approximately 5’10” and approximately 50-60 years old. Continue reading →

Capitol Hill Community Post | After a hate crime runaround by SPD, here is why we need queer-led safety on Capitol Hill

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From Tim Marshall/Resident
On Friday, July 11th, 2025, around 6:40pm, I was about to cross a marked crosswalk on East Olive Way, heading home after a workout at a local gym. This is a notoriously busy crosswalk, and several cars blazed through the intersection before it was safe to cross. A dark-colored sedan approached as I stepped out and the sedan continued without pause, so I stepped back. I was annoyed, so I flipped off the driver. For reference, I am a 35-year old cisgender white man who is visibly queer. I would describe myself as an assertive pedestrian, one who routinely sees drivers ignore crosswalks, and feels empowered to communicate my urge for drivers to be cautious in my neighborhood. The driver returned the finger after driving for half a block. I was amused at the driver’s reaction, a man in his early 20s, and I performatively blew him a kiss. This is a rarer reaction of mine, and is intended to de-escalated a tense situation. I crossed the street alongside a queer couple in their 40s, assuming the event had passed. I passed CC Attle’s, a longstanding queer establishment on Boylston Ave, and continued walking south towards home. I passed a handful of bar goers and fellow pedestrians, fiddling with my phone.

 

CAPITOL HILL COMMUNITY POSTS 
Have a Capitol Hill related issue people should know about? Anybody can post on CHS. Contact [email protected] to learn more.

 

I made it three quarters down the block before I noticed the same dark colored sedan parked in front of me. The driver approached me sternly, eyes narrowed, asking me a question I could not hear over the music roaring through my headphones. I popped out one earbud, offering a placid ‘what?’ before he squared up in front of me and punched me between the eyes. I fell to the sidewalk, landing roughly on my right arm, and he continued to punch me and kick me in the front and back of my head, yelling “don’t you ever blow me another kiss, faggot”. After maybe 30 seconds of blows, he turned around and taunted “are you going to blow me another kiss, faggot?” I was stunned, shouted an expletive, and after threatening me again with clenched fists, I retreated, shouting “I’m sorry!” I quickly pulled myself to my feet. An Amazon driver cautiously approached, asking “are you okay?” Panicked, I blurted out “yeah!” and kept walking. I passed another woman who met my eyes and then sheepishly looked back to her phone. Continue reading →

Capitol Hill Community Post | Espresso Vivace celebrates its 37th Anniversary

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Screenshot

From Espresso Vivace

Espresso Vivace celebrates its 37th Anniversary with our Annual Espresso Tasting

David will be on bar!

Featuring shots of
Ugandan Rwenzori
Brazilian Yellow Bourbon
Indian Monsooned Malabar
And Ugandan Endele Swiss water Dcaf

Friday April 18th noon to 2pm at our Brix location
Saturady April 19th noon to 2pm at our SLU location

Come one and all to experience the bleeding edge of espresso perfection.

 

$5 A MONTH TO HELP KEEP CHS PAYWALL-FREE

Subscribe to CHS to help us hire writers and photographers to cover the neighborhood. CHS is a pay what you can community news site with no required sign-in or paywall. To stay that way, we need you. Become a subscriber to help us cover the neighborhood for $5 a month -- or choose your level of support 🖤 

 
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