It’s been several weeks since we left Portland but I have to let everyone in on a secret: I miss the hell out of that strange, wonderful land. Now, I can picture my sister screaming at her screen, “Yeah, ‘cause you’re so GODDAMN WEIRD!” I will let you be the judge of that statement but will admit, the freedom to try any look, any food, any opinion is nothing to scoff at.
But, that’s not what I’ve gathered you all around here for today; I want to talk about people of Portland and NOT just how weird they claim to be and are.
In order to give you a foil, let me explain our experience in Seattle. While also a great place that we enjoyed every minute, we made, ummm, around zero friends. I think we talked to our landlords like twice and one time was just to apologize when Dexter peed on the deck and soaked them below. For awhile I thought we were doing something wrong there since we had a huge group of friends we were sad to leave in Denver. I was relieved (horrified?) when a co-worker that used to live in Seattle informed me it’s a phenomenon called “The Seattle Cold-Shoulder” and is a recognized issue that results in low birth rates in the city. I kid you not.
So, I want to bring you back to Portland. My phone is currently full of Portlander’s phone numbers from almost every night we went out to the bar. I’m talking people inviting us to play on their softball teams to others just wanting to grab drinks again.
There are stories created in Portland that still make me giggle to myself. I think about the night I watched the sunrise in someone’s backyard, scolding Dexter to be quiet since the guy’s kids were sleeping while splitting a single beer (he forgot he was almost out). Then I remember meeting a young, religious man who admitted to us that he “went to pray at the church but it was closed so [he] decided to grab a beer instead.” I could go on all night (or all day if you’re reading this in the morning).
Despite having numerous, amazing one-off meetings, some of our best memories come from the residents next door to our place in Portland. Our favorite was “Dammit” Dave. Picture someone who has an uncanny resemblance to the Dos Equis guy who starts or ends every sentence with “dammit”. Yeah, that was our neighbor and he was famous (or infamous) at the local bar, Binks. There were many nights I’d find myself down at Binks listening intently about Dammit’s inventions, his night out at black dance clubs, or even teaching me how to bar fight correctly. To string a couple cliche phrases together: saying our Portland leg of the trip wouldn’t be the same with out Dammit would be an understatement.
It’s wonderful having all these people willing to break the ice, especially for an introvert (self-proclaimed) like myself. Jessica and I were floored with the experiences. The opposite feelings from Seattle began to settle in; we thought we were this interesting, US traveling couple that everyone wanted to meet.
Those illusions were shattered when we met someone not from Portland one night who confided in us how it freaks him out that anyone, EVERYONE will try to talk him. It wasn’t just us, Portlanders just have this insatiable curiosity of others coupled with little fear of striking up a conversation with complete strangers.
Don’t mistake me though, I do remember quite fondly of all the food, artwork, music, craft beer (drool) of Portland and you should definitely visit because of those traits. Just don’t be surprised if you make a friend (or ten) along the way.
janainaart
romaincrisis
germansingergirl
prguitarman
pixelskylines
