I fly a lot for work and I have a game I play at airports when I fly back to Portland. I keep my gaze down and don't look for my gate number. Instead, I scan the people at each gate and look for the weirdest people I see - and that'll be the gate for Portland! It never fails! I knew I was at the right gate when I saw this lovely dreaded chap in his "hiker-boy" jacket! And smelled the patchouli! He reeks of the West Coast!
I always loved that Van Halen song. Much to my delight, I hear it coming through my bedroom window, sounding like it's off in the distance. Now it's getting closer and louder, and I can almost feel the bass. I have to get up and take a look. It was the Devil! Really. A guy clad in a fire-red devil suit, from horns to forked tail, is running down my sidewalk, with a two-foot long super bass boombox on his shoulder, blaring that awesome song! I grabbed my sneaks and camera, but I couldn't catch him, cuz he was Runnin' with The Devil! Nothing unusual about that, right?
Over heard recently:
"Duude, why do all the hippies move to Eugene (OR) ?"
Reply:
"Because there's no work there!"
I took a bike ride around my neighborhood tonight. Innocent enough, right? But no. New record. Three men in skirts. Most days I just see one or two. OK, one was a kilt. That's still questionable to me.
10:30pmI'm having a quiet Saturday evening at home. Minding my own business, entering reports for work, and I hear what sounds like at least five super-bass boomboxes going, drums beating, assorted sundry sounds of unrecognized origin - there's about 30 freaks, in various states of undress, on bikes, some of them 10 feet tall, lights flashing all over them, hootin' and hollerin', couldn't tell if they were man or beast.Gotta love it here!
Working downtown my first four years here, one becomes accustomed to being "spare changed" - that is, being hit up for spare change by homeless people and street kids. I couldn't take a break from work without encountering downtown Portland's finest. It isn't uncommon to be asked six or seven times in the space of a block or two. I finally had enough and couldn't take it anymore. I barked defiantly at the next unfortunate who "spanged" me: "How about you giving me a quarter instead for a change!" Humbly, sincerely, the kid reached into the few coins he had, and offered me a quarter. Even the homeless are different out here.
So I'm on my way home from work today and stop at the deli. I ask for a handful-size portion of fried potato wedges. The hippie-girl clerk says to me, "I can't serve you till you open yourself to my space." I then realize that I'm standing rather rigid with my arms crossed. I unfold my arms and "open myself to her space."I'm thinking, "I just want my potato wedges, bitch!" So, I relax, and casually remark that "I just need these to hold me over till dinner." She says, "Maybe you should eat an apple or pear instead."Grr...&*#@% hippies!
This skirt-wearing dude was spotted at Best Buy. Everyone needs electronics, honey!
Last week I was walking to the coffee shop on my block, minding my own business, and a guy in a wedding dress riding a bike zooms by. I turn the corner, and there's another guy in tight, 70's style gym shorts, clutching a purse. It gives unisex a whole new meaning!
