Everett, Washington: The Most Expensive Disappointment I've Ever Rented

 People love to tell you how beautiful Washington is.

They show you the mountains.
They show you Puget Sound.
They show you ferry boats gliding across blue water while orcas magically leap in the distance.

What they don't show you is Everett.

I've spent nearly two years here, and if you ask me what I'll remember, it won't be the scenery. It'll be the staggering cost of simply existing while watching a city slowly surrender to disorder.

This isn't an attack on the people who are struggling. They're often victims of circumstances far bigger than themselves.

This is about a city where ordinary, working people pay extraordinary amounts of money for the privilege of stepping over someone else's crisis on the way to the grocery store.

I pay more than two thousand dollars a month for a two-bedroom apartment.

Two thousand dollars.

For that price, you'd expect clean streets, responsive services, safe public spaces, and a sense that the city is improving.

Instead, too often what you get are encampments, open drug use, abandoned shopping carts, theft, traffic that can test the patience of a saint, and the constant feeling that basic standards have become optional. Everett itself acknowledges that homelessness, addiction, and street-level crime are among its biggest challenges, and the city has devoted significant resources to encampment response and public safety initiatives.

The irony is that Everett isn't cheap because it's thriving.

It's expensive because it's attached to the Seattle metropolitan area.

You're paying Seattle prices without getting Seattle amenities.

A 20% SERVICE FEE at almost every restaurant. For shitty service and even shittier food. (Except for the Angry Crab Shak. I'm a Stan for them)

Every trip to the store feels like an adventure.

Will there be someone screaming at invisible enemies?

Will there be someone passed out on the sidewalk?

Will the parking lot look like a demolition derby?

It's impossible to predict.

The city has worked to reduce crime, and recent data suggests violent crime has improved compared with previous years. But property crime remains a persistent issue, and many residents say what wears them down isn't dramatic violence—it's the daily grind of theft, vandalism, public drug use, and the visible deterioration of shared spaces.

One of the biggest surprises wasn't the weather, the traffic, or even the cost of living. It was the feeling that basic kindness had become a scarce commodity. Over and over, I encountered people who seemed permanently angry—impatient in traffic, dismissive in stores, quick to snap over the smallest inconvenience, and seemingly allergic to the simple courtesies that make daily life bearable. Holding a door, exchanging a smile, or saying "good morning" often felt like I'd violated some unwritten social contract. There were certainly exceptions, but they were memorable precisely because they were so uncommon.

Coming from the South, where conversations with strangers happen in grocery store lines and neighbors wave simply because you're driving by, the difference was jarring. Here, too many interactions felt transactional at best and openly hostile at worst. It wasn't just indifference—it often felt as though everyone was carrying around a simmering resentment, and the unfortunate soul standing nearest happened to become the target. After a while, you stop wondering if it's just a bad day for someone and start wondering if this is simply what the local culture has accepted as normal. If that's the case, it's a culture I won't miss.

Then there's Interstate 5.

If Dante had designed freeway infrastructure, he'd probably have started around Everett.

No matter the time of day, there seems to be an invisible agreement among drivers that every merge is a personal insult.

And somehow you're paying premium housing prices while spending chunks of your life staring at brake lights.

For me, Everett became the backdrop for some of the hardest years of my life.

Cancer.

Medical appointments.

Financial uncertainty.

An accident that changed far more than the sheet metal on my vehicle.

Trying to recover while watching costs climb higher every month.

The city didn't create those hardships.

But it certainly never made them easier.

The greatest tragedy is that Washington itself is breathtaking.

I've driven roads that made me pull over just to stare at the mountains.

I've explored coastlines that looked like postcards.

I've found forests that feel ancient.

The natural beauty is undeniable.

Everett simply never lived up to the state surrounding it.

Soon I'll be leaving Washington.

I'll miss the mountains.

I'll miss the ferries.

I'll miss the towering evergreens and the smell of saltwater after the rain.

I won't miss Everett.

Sometimes a place teaches you what you value.

Everett taught me that expensive doesn't always mean desirable.

And that one of the greatest feelings in the world isn't arriving somewhere new.

It's finally getting to leave somewhere that never felt like home.