Portlandia

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We arrived in Portland on a Wednesday afternoon, and had big hopes for the next couple of days. Portland was definitely high on m’list of places I’ve wanted to visit for a while, plus Portlandiaintrigued me even further. We checked into the hotel, and while the other 2 went to pick up some dranks, I did a quick p90X workout to prepare myself for the evening.

When they returned, Rob and I went to grab a quick drink whilst Abigail got ready. We sat outside on this little porch, and even though Rob went ahead and admitted to the waitress that he had no ID on him, she let him have a $2 beer anyway. We got some good recommendations of things to do in Portland from some locals, and then headed back to the hotel to continue pre-gaming.

What did we see on the drive home? A Taco Bell. Since the trip began, Rob and I had been talking about eating a Nacho Cheese Dorito taco, but had always found an excuse not to (mostly just that taco bell is best eaten at like 4am after a night of drinking). Rob had actually never eaten at a Taco Bell, so we felt this would be a great first experience. I have to say, I wasn’t too impressed with the Nacho Cheese Dorito taco. I think if the shell remained a little crispier, it would have been better, but it was just a little soggy so I couldn’t get the full Doritos experience.

Anyhoo, back at the hotel, we continued drinking, and then decided around 11 to head out. It felt like college- how refreshing. Since we were all a little tipsy, we just walked to a bar directly across from the hotel so we didn’t have to worry about driving. We walked in and paid the cover, and as we turned the corner… Whoopsies, it was a strip club. But since we already paid to get in, we weren’t about to leave.

Now the fact that we began the evening at a strip club should have warned us of the night ahead (and the pretty much awful following day). I’d say any other time I’ve attended a strip club, it’s been at the end of the evening after a night of craziness; not the 3 best friends beginning the bar hop at an Eastern European nudie bar. With me in my porcupine sweater and Rob’s tongue quite literally hanging out of his mouth, we took some tequila shots at the bar and then settled into our seats to enjoy the show.

If I had to rate these strippers on both their pole skills and general stripping ability, I’m gonna say that I’ve seen better. Though I was impressed when the girls would click their clear heels together at the exact beat of the music- their parents must be so proud of their rhythm. We stayed at the club for a couple drinks, but after one stripper kept maintaining eye contact with me, it was time to head on.

We walked down the road until we found an establishment quite the opposite of a strip club: an arcade bar. Upon entering, we saw skee ball, pin ball, shooting games, and a couple pool tables. Since it was a Wednesday night, there weren’t too many people there (though the crowd back at the strip club was pretty bustling). After getting some drinks, we almost immediately zoned in on the change machine, where we changed most of our ones from the strip club into quarters for skee ball. We also sent Rob back across the street to the car to grab our jar of change that we keep about in case of tolls and whatnot. All in all, we were set for some arcade games.

While Rob and Abigail battled one another in skee ball (which Abigail won almost every round), I began playing pool with some nice gentlemen that we met at the bar. Turns out, having a pool table growing up doesn’t help my situation as an adult. I’m pretty terrible. But the silver lining was that Abigail decided that one of the guys looked just like Scott Stapp, the lead singer of Creed. I pulled up a picture of the real Scott on my phone and it turns out, Abigail was entirely correct. He really wasn’t happy with us when we began calling him “Scott” instead of his real name.

Here is a list of other shenanigans that took place that night: We began using our quarters for the juke box, playing an overabundance of Kanye West; I taught Rob how to Waltz using the box step; someone in the gang open-hand slapped another member of the gang (who was it? Nobody knows); I sang the song “Higher” to the fake Scott Stapp at the bar, which he was none too happy about; we found a shooting game and murdered a bunch of deer on screen; our skee ball skills turn a downward spiral as the night progressed and balls ended up everywhere on the floor; and no one made it to bed before 4am.

As it happens, when you’re old as hell trying to stay out all night drinking, it’s difficult to make it out of the hotel room the next day. We actually left for two reasons: to eat. Twice. The first time, we just needed something solid, so I found an amazeballs sandwich place near the hotel called Meat Cheese Bread. Absolutely unreal. I wish I had been in Portland long enough to try everything on the menu. They had this sandwich with ham, roasted green beans, bacon slaw, hard boiled eggs, and some homemade other aioli or mayo or something all on thick crusty bread. I didn’t try it because in my condition, I didn’t feel that hard boiled eggs was a smart move. Instead we all three got breakfast burritos, in which they put hash browns inside the burrito. Add that to some homemade salsa, avocado, and the other usual bb fixins, and it was just outstanding.

We took our burritos back to the hotel (where Rob was still asleep), where we ate and then all fell back to sleep until about 5pm. At that time, I felt it was time for a donut. Guess what?! Voodoo Doughnuts was walking distance to our hotel. I had heard about this bacon doughnut from several people, and when we walked into the establishment, I knew it was time to do it. Though there were many other delicious looking selections on the menu (Rob indulged in a doughnut with frosting and Oreo cookie crumbles atop it), the bacon doughnut was just perfect looking. I’ll describe it in detail.

The doughnut had three distinct layers: the log-shaped donut itself, a thick layer of maple frosting, and several pieces of crispy bacon to top it off. As I took my first bite, I could taste the three different flavors, but as I chewed, the tastes all became one in my mouth. Meow everyone knows that maple bacon is the jam anyway, but when it’s original smoky, crispy, melt-in-yo-mouth bacon in conjunction with a substantial amount of homemade maple frosting (a little hard on the top, but then sweet and creamy underneath), it is actually life-changing. The doughnut itself was also a flawless consistency of cake- just sweet and soft, and the perfect proportion for the toppings it held on its back. Each bite of the doughnut was savored, and the bacon dissolved on my tongue, creating a precise balance of salty and sweet. I barely had to chew: it was the perfect doughnut/bacon experience. Serious face: it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten in the history of my life. I wished it would last forever, but alas, all good things have to end.

Amazingly, we headed out the next day and walked back by Voodoo, and I resisted the temptation to walk in and get another doughnut. First of all, it probably held enough calories to suffice for the rest of this trip, but since the doughnut achieved food perfection, I didn’t want to spoil the first experience. This way, I can keep that doughnut on a pedestal for all eternity.

After dodging my doughnut craving, Rob and I just walked around downtown for a few hours. I pretty much fell in love with Portland on that day. Everyone just walks everywhere or rides bikes, and almost everyone we met has tattoos and piercings and is just so friendly. Every person we met said that they loved living in Portland and have no plans to move ever. It was pointed out to me that no one is really from there, so most people move there by choice (where young people go to retire… or just end up homeless on the bridge and asleep on the sidewalk in the middle of the day). Rob and I got some local coffee, and just looked at shops for a long while. I played with some makeup at Sephora, we saw a Native American festival, and met some nice people at the Sunglass Hut.

Once our feeties were hurting, we found a long row of food trucks, and perused until we found the perfect one. It was just a guy in a bandana making sandwiches. We both ordered muffeletta (um… a meat and olive sandwich, indigenous to New Orleans) and just chatted with the owner of the food truck whilst we ate. The sandwich was outstanding, and so big that I only ate half. The guy gave us free waters, and then also gave us a free tuna sandwich, so we were all set for dinner too. Win!

We headed to the hotel to meet up with Abigail, who had graciously done our laundry this morning, and then we went in search of a hair salon for me. I found a place and Mr. Josh the Hairdresser did quite a bang-up job on my locks. I hadn’t gotten a haircut since before Israel, so things were looking rough. After my hair was looking outstanding, we walked around Chinatown, and then headed to the Pearl District for some dranks. P.S. The Pearl District is the awesomest. We found this bookstore that was completely overwhelming, as it took up an entire city block and had rooms that were color coded by genre. I don’t even know how long we were in there. It was a book experience like nothing else.

We then found a little outdoor spot, where we drank Sangria and people watched on the sidewalk. After drinks, we were all getting sleepy, so we walked back to the hotel to snuggle in. The next morning, we packed up the car (actually, we had to set an alarm for 10am to make sure we got out of the hotel on time, plus everything we owned was in the tiniest hotel room in the world and it was quite a shit show) and drove back downtown to the Saturday Market. Every weekend, there are hundreds of vendors that sell jewelry and accessories and clothing, but also food, all by the river.

We just walked and walked (another GREAT spot for people watching) until we found some more food carts. We needed to load up on calories before heading south. We ate some Mexican foods, perused some tie-dye vendors, saw the tiniest/cutest puppy in the world, and then stood by a fountain for a while watching some street performers. A couple dudes were playing guitar, and one woman was just twirling hula-hoops around her body for what seemed like hours. It was quite mesmerizing. Most of the performers appeared to be homeless, due to the amount of sleeping bags and other crap surrounding their stage. Some of the performers had face tattoos also. I don’t know if that relates to anything, but it was just interesting to see a grown man with a black circle tattooed around his eyeball like the pokey little puppy. I’m assuming there were heavy drugs involved in that decision.

Anyhoo, we walked back to the car, got some lollipops from the back, and headed south toward Crater Lake. The drive was really pretty, and Crater Lake was gorgeous. We were only there for one night (one freezing night), but it was worth stopping to see the deepest lake in the country. It was so still that it looked like a fake backdrop of a movie. We all wanted to throw rocks into it just to see some ripples in the water, but it was too far down. The coolest part was that the sun was setting as we saw the lake, so the lighting was just outstanding over the mountains. Shame. Next stop: San Francisco. Maybe we’ll see Mrs. Doubtfire (it was a run-by fruiting).

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