Several weeks ago, my friend Vivien said she would be in town and invited me to meet her for a drink. Little did I know, “in town” actually meant Bellevue, a foreign (and I liked it that way) world to me.

“How is it possible that you’ve lived in Seattle for 20 years and have never been to Bellevue?” she asked.

“Why would I ever need to go there?” I replied.

“Good point. If I buy you a drink will you come?”

Easily bribed, I accepted my fate and quickly became confused and overwhelmed by terms such as “520, 405” and any street ending with “Southeast.” The pouring down rain didn’t help matters, but I told myself it would be a good cultural experience. Besides, I really needed to get out of Ballard every once in a while.

After traversing 405 and all of the much-too-wide streets of what I suppose was downtown Bellevue, I found her hotel. I squeezed my golfcart, otherwise known as a Prius, amongst all of the huge SUVs, gazed around at all of the tall buildings and thought, “Wow, there’s a whole other city east of the Lake. Who knew”

My confusion and altered state only increased upon entering her hotel lobby where swarms of people were dressed in costumes, had shields in their hands or had their faces painted. I thought Halloween was last week, I muttered to myself as I tried to recall the date.

Vivien cackled when she saw me wandering around aimlessly and pulled me into the elevator with several scantily clad youth with long purple and black wigs on.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“It’s anime. Come on, I want to show you the kids' costumes.”

Upon entering her hotel room, three 13-year-old girls and one unfortunate boy started chirping at me in a foreign language. Before I could digest any of my anime tutorial, I had to get over my shock that Vivien could trust these kids alone in a hotel room.

“Won’t they raid the mini-bar and then go pick up some older guys to buy them beer and have sex with them in your bed?”

“No!” Vivien laughed. “That’s what you and I would have done. But these are good kids. They’re just here for the conference. They don’t even drink.”

A possible non-drinking, non-promiscuous adolescence for my kids was so enticing, I was ready to adhere to any advice Vivien offered. Even if it meant I had to stay in a hotel room with four kids amped on anime.

The girls filled me in on all of their favorite characters, blushing and giggling as if they were telling me about the boy they had a crush on. In fact, these were the boys they had crushes on, but they weren’t real. Lucky, lucky Vivien.

I inhaled a few pieces of their pizza, nodded as if I understood anything they were saying and then made the room burst out in laughter when I said, “Is this anything like Pokemon?”

Anime, I am told, is much more sophisticated than Pokemon, and since I don’t even understand what Pokemon is, I gave up on understanding anime.

I grabbed another piece of pizza for the road and Vivien and I hopped into my golf cart.

“I can’t believe you can leave them alone. I can’t believe how many damn malls are out here. Where the hell did all of these tall buildings come from? What are they? Does anyone walk here?” I babbled while Vivien filled me in on the basics of Bellevue.

“No, no one walks here, they drive. And most of these buildings are banks. There’s a ton of money out here, Corbin. You should market yourself to these women. They may not know who Tom Waits is (see Vivien’s article in the latest Reality Mom to understand that reference), but they’re certainly depressed and in need of a fresh voice like yours.”

“Wow,” is all I could say for the next half hour.

Although she reassured me otherwise, I still couldn’t help but feel nervous when we arrived, unannounced, back to the hotel room. I was sure we would find empty liquor bottles strewn around the floor, half-naked girls singing at the top of their lungs while dancing on the bed, or something much, much worse.

Instead, they were all putting their finishing touches on their costumes and actually looked happy to see us.
After reminding the kids of their 10:30 p.m. curfew, which I finally believed they would adhere to, Vivien and I went down to the hotel bar.

I still didn’t understand anime, but sitting amongst people with horns, green faces and purple hair allowed me to feel as if I were at home and not in the strange land of Bellevue.

Corbin Lewars (www.corbinlewars.com) is a writing mentor, the founder of Reality Mom (www.realitymomzine.blogspot.com) and author of "Creating a Life" and the forthcoming "After Glow." She teaches memoir and personal essay writing classes in Ballard. Contact her for details.