Fab in Portland
Last summer, I was impatiently waiting at the boarding gates for my flight to San Francisco when American Airlines cancelled it five minutes after the scheduled boarding time. For missing an entire day in SF, all I got was a lousy $200 flight voucher.
Well, I decided to use that voucher and here I am, five days in Portland, Oregon.
“Um… Why Portland?” – everyone who I told about the trip.
Portlandia hype aside, it’s a very livable city and oozes a mellow, relaxed culture of people. Its cycling culture is as close to Copenhagen as it’d get in the states. The coffee and beer industry is very competitive and well-developed here and to be honest, it’s 75% why I picked this city. The other 25% comes from how liberal the city is – everyone’s free to be themselves and present themselves in ways that break all mainstream norms. Read: gender and sexuality is fluid AF here.
Six days in and I’ve seen some very Portlandish things:
– Half the female population is gender non-conforming
– My gaydar goes off on every other girl
– An older woman at the bus stop handing out printed copies of her own poetry by the bus stop (the epitome of Portland)
– A gang of preteens walking down the waterfront, casually dressed in jean overalls from the 70’s and Converses
– So. Many. Bikes.
– Hair on every body part is free flowing and probably encouraged
– Suits are extinct (banned??)
– Lots of homeless people 😦
Prior to the trip, I had reached out to a feminist group on Slack, Femsplain, introducing myself. I wasn’t expecting anything but someone from Portland replied and offered to show me around. I took her up on it. I sensed from the blue ombre hair and association with a feminist group that she was unlikely straight. And my gaydar continues its perfect streak, as she was bi.
The meeting was purely platonic. We went to brunch at Mother’s (rated #1 brunch spot), where I discovered in casual conversation that she was bi… and married to a man. Nonetheless, we had a great time.
I returned to Tinder, with no end goal in mind. Eventually, I matched with one woman and after talking a bit with her, she invited me to a strip club and I said okay.
Portland has the highest number of strip clubs per capita and I do want to go. But I also don’t want to die. She seemed normal enough but after checking her profile out on Facebook – three profile pictures, two of which were her cleavage and one was the Greenbay Packers logo, and only 15 fiends – it seemed as though this was a throwaway account. The name didn’t sound real either. “Cham”.
I sat on this for 15 hours before deciding against it. I’d argue this was bad for my YOLO pact, but on the other hand, great for my well-being and survival.
I’ll go into more detail but I’ve come to love this city. It’s best described as “somewhere I’d love to raise a family with my future wife”.
But first, we gots to find me a wife.