I don’t really know what Portland stories would be interesting.
We sat around a table and drank and argued and the people who didn’t show up until later walked up to us and said stuff like “I don’t know who any of you are but I’m guessing from the fact that you’re arguing about immigration and Communism means that you guys are from Ordinary Times?”
As it turns out, we were from ordinary times. But my guess is that Portland usually has a lot of people arguing about immigration and Communism at bars.
As we drove around the first night, I remember thinking “there sure are a lot of Call People out and about” and I was told “no, that’s just how young people dress when you’re not in Colorado Springs.” *THEN* I found that the restaurant was in the Red Light District. So we were both right.
Another night I stepped outside and smelled that a skunk had sprayed nearby and I said something to the effect of “golly, we have skunks in our back yard sometimes but they tend to be live and let live” and everybody kind of smiled to themselves and they pointed out that I wasn’t smelling a skunk but Smelling Skunk and I felt like a square from squaresville.
We *DO* have skunks in our back yard sometimes, though.
Powell’s is an absolutely amazing bookstore. I asked for a book that they said they had on the computer and they couldn’t find it so I got a 10% off coupon! So I bought the Fight Club 2 graphic novel. The lady behind the counter said “you found the Palahniuk!” and I said “It’s not for me, it’s for someone else entirely.” I’m pretty sure she believed me.
At the dinner, I ordered the second cheapest bottle of wine. The wine guy screwed up the cork and then brought out a second bottle which he then *BROKE*. The guy in charge of the restaurant then opened the wine for us. You just *KNOW* the waitstaff drank those first two bottles after close.
While riding on a mostly full elevator, we picked up a passenger who announced to the car that she was loaded, and therefore would be facing the back of the elevator and speaking to us until we got all the way to the lobby. She pointed out that this was against social convention.
The farmer’s market was downright amazing. It made me wish I had a kitchen nearby. Instead, we bought a couple of half-pints of berries and ate them with ice cream as we sat on a bench and listened to hippies play music for dollar bills. Not every male at the farmer’s market in Portland had a beard, but out of those that did, my beard was the shortest. That’s because I prefer to not use beard products at all.
I pretty much had it confirmed that everyone who is a member of OT is good looking, has a good sense of humor, and doesn’t mind arguing loudly in bars with complete strangers.
You all totally need to come to the next Leaguefest.
As for this weekend, I’m going to spend it recovering from the last weekend.
So… what’s on your docket?
(Image is Tristan and Isolde Drinking the Love Potion by Gautier Map from the Messire Lancelot du Lac. He did most of his stuff in the 12th and 13th century so I figure it’s in the public domain.)