Reviews of places I’ve cried
Sad Valley - 5 Stars
This was a great location to have a catastrophic and friendship-ending fight. The atmosphere made the perfect backdrop as our conversation descended into chaotic oblivion in what would be the final moments before our friendship was rendered a lifeless and unrecognizable thing.
After asking my “friend” to leave the bar before he gave me a full blown panic attack, I sat there silently crying with pathetic little tears rolling down my face. At one point, without saying anything, the bar back poured me a glass of water and placed it in front of me. It was a simple and kind gesture, but it meant a lot to me in a moment where I was very sad, vulnerable, and exhausted.
10/10 Would come here to have a cataclysmic ending to a toxic relationship again. (Although, next time I’d prefer just enjoying a drink and the company of a friend who is actually nice to me.) Oh, also, the fries were great.Fred Meyer is the embodiment of existential dread. Either I'm wandering beneath the fluorescent lights in a disassociated state of listlessness, or I'm anxiously navigating aisles, trying hard not to be in anyone's way.
Fred Meyer (Hollywood District)
Fred Meyer is the embodiment of existential dread. Either I'm wandering beneath the fluorescent lights in a disassociated state of listlessness, or I'm anxiously navigating aisles, trying hard not to be in anyone's way.
They also have become their own police state sanctioned by daddy Wheeler himself. Nothing screams dystopia like shopping while encumbered by surveillance screens, uniformed security guards tracking your comings and goings, and gates and fences that remind you what the uber-wealthy see you as, valuable yet disposable livestock. Also, I once had an employee blow up at me because I asked them politely if they could move out of the way. The encounter culminated in the implication that I should off myself.
While I don't blame them for their misery, the unprovoked nature of the confrontation against my own, already fragile mental state left me pretty shaken up. I spent the next hour and a half crying in my car in the parking lot underneath the blue light and watchful eye of a mobile surveillance trailer (colloquially known as a "lot cop").
1/10 in terms of places to cry. Not private at all. Even if you can hide your tears from other patrons, you can't hide your tears from Big Brother who doesn't give a flying fart about you, but will somehow probably profit off the data of you crying in your car.