Open the door and enter the Camlin Hotel. Follow the dirty burgundy carpet to the elevator,

which smells of cigarette smoke and wood polish. Push the button for the Cloud Room.
     Piano music can be heard, Sinatra segueing into Nirvana. Follow the sound. The doorman with a goatee will not ask for your date's I.D. unless she actually looks pubescent. The bartenders are slow, but polite. Slow but polite is a good plan. Have a couple of cocktails at the bar, suffer the Piano Man's vocals, gaze out the south windows and glimpse Elliott Bay between buildings. When sufficiently warmed by the generous drinks, move outside to the patio. Stand at the chest-high north wall and watch the boats on Lake Union with their red and green running lights. Talk about the floatplanes that fly to the San Juan Islands, and suggest — believe, even — that the two of you will be making that excursion soon.
     Eventually meander west, past the fountain where the granite boy holds his penis and pees forever more. In the northwest corner, it is dark and quiet except for the green glow of the huge Camlin hotel sign above and the dim hum of the electricity fueling the neon. Kiss here.
     Final stop, the Panorama Room, a banquet area that is almost never locked and almost always empty. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides and the room is dark except for the city lights that cast zigzagging patterns across the long, polished wood table. Close the door and prop a chair against the handle.

The Cloud Room at the Camlin Hotel
1619 Ninth Avenue, Seattle
(206) 682-0100
Recommended drink: Anything served in a martini glass.
(Photograph by Alice Wheeler)

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