PDX Fri: laughs, libations, and lost chances.

PDX Day 1: My stupidest accomplishment
PDX Day 2: Happy hour indeed
PDX Day 3: Portland so far
PDX Day 3.2: FUPD has assumed control
PDX Day 4: Laughs, libations, and lost chances
PDX Day 5: Cherubs, rainbows, and unicorns shitting Portland glitter cupcakes
PDX Day 6: Homebound
Fri 15 June: So what’s the deal with rivers, anyway?

I went for another ride this morning along Alberta, and found a great spot for a late breakfast: Pine State Biscuits. I ordered the McIsley: a sandwich made of a fresh made biscuit, fried chicken breast, course ground mustard, honey, and pickles. I know, this sounds funky, but it was delicious. While I was eating, a girl sat down at the table across from mine. She was exceptionally beautiful. The women in Portland are markedly different from the girls in Utah. Almost a different species.  There are more “hot” girls in SLC, but I’d say there are more BEAUTIFUL women in Portland. You see more natural beauty up there. Anyway, this girl was one of the top 4 most beautiful I’d seen thus far. I was falling in love right there over my breakfast.  When I finished, I went over and said a few things to her, and I’m sure I came off like the 9th grade chess club nerd trying to work up the nerve to talk to the head cheer leader with all of her super cool, super cute friends standing around her.  I felt so dumb, but I had to say something.  I am so awkward with girls. People sometimes say that they think I do well with women, but you have no idea what’s really going on. I struggle so badly and feel so awkward around girls that I’m attracted to, regardless of how it may look on the surface.

That afternoon, Jake and I went to the wine country in The Gorge. We went to 3 different wine tasting rooms. We tried a log of unremarkable Riesling, some forgettable pinot noir, some tasty pear wine, and then on to some truly interesting things…

We pulled into Hood River to check out the tasting rooms there. Think of Park City’s main street, shrink it down, and that’s what Hood River was like. There were several tasting rooms within eye shot, all of them decorated to attract wine snobs like us.  We stood next to a nondescript office building with a basement entrance. On the door, in block letters, it said “Barber Shop”  and on the other side, “Wine Tasting”.  It looked SO ghetto… I proposed that we must see what is going on there. It’s what Robert Frost would have done. The vacuous office was hardly decorated, no lights were on, and it looked closed. We did notice a woman behind a modest counter, with some wine bottles on it, so we went in.

Much to our surprise, the folks at Stella Fino Wines had some interesting things going on:  We tried an oak aged pinot grigio. It was fascinating, but ultimately did not make me reach for my wallet.  To similar effect, we tried a dry muscat. I’ve been curious to try sangiovese after seeing Maynard James Keenan’s vineyard documentary, “Blood into Wine”, and sangiovese I did try.  I really enjoyed it – so much that I ponied up $28 for a bottle of it. I’m going to be saving that bottle to share with someone who will appreciate what it is.  :-)

We drove across the Columbia river to the Washington side and had dinner at a brew pub patio that looked straight out at Mount Hood. Majestic and uniquely tranquil are the only words I can use to describe it.  We made a lot of the drive home along the edge of the river on the Washington side. I was transfixed by the lush greens, the trains passing by, and the massive Columbia river.

We found our way to the comedy club that I’d be performing at: the Mount Tabor Theater.  This place looked appropriately trashy for what was about to take place in there.

 

Jake and I had a few beers and soon it was ready for the show.  Right at 8, some people walked in that I honestly was not expecting:

Tommy TuTone and his wife, Lisa.

They said that they would come, but honestly, I did not think they really would. I have friends in SLC say they will come out to shows ALL THE TIME, and it rarely happens.  And yet – this guy – a celebrity – found time on a Friday night, to come hear some unknown guy do 5 minutes of comedy.  This made my MONTH.

Decor on the wall of the black light illuminated hallway to the comedy room

Soon, Zak and Jessica arrived.  The open mic’ers were interesting up there… a bit different than the crew in SLC.  The SLC comics are a decidedly darker, edgier, dirtier, more aggressive bunch.  I didn’t hear a single joke about pedophilia, rape, or having a small dick the whole night. I was impressed!  I felt like my set went pretty well.  I didn’t DESTROY, but I did get some laughs, and in a room full of other comics, that’s about all you can hope for.

…And I had Tommy TuTone there to hear me.  HAHAHA!!! I still can’t believe that.  After my set, Lisa told me to call them and come to their house to visit the next day.  WTF?!  Okay!  I’ll be doing that!

Following the comedy show, we returned to Zak’s neighborhood to hit one of the favored neighborhood bars, Vendetta. Toward the end of the night, a gorgeous blonde in a very tiny black dress came in and sat at the bar.  I don’t recall exactly how I started this up, but pretty soon I was sitting next to her and having a conversation that went like this:

More “decor” in the comedy venue

her: I played the french horn growing up.

me: Awesome, I played trumpet.  You know what they say about brass players?

her: No….

me: They are the best kissers.

At this point she looks at me, and in hindsight, I know it was the “kiss me” look.  But… that look only lasts a fraction of a second, and if you balk, you have let your wuss show.  And show my wuss, I did.  Goddamn, why must I hesitate?

me: Well, the french horn is one of the hardest brass instruments to play.  It requires some extra hand work…

her: Yeah… it requires some fisting…

She gave me the look again.  I took a moment to wonder if I really wanted to fist this girl.  I really don’t. Fisting should be reserved for gynecologists ONLY.  I don’t have a tiny cock, and if that’s not going to be enough for you… you clearly need to get over those repressed childhood memories of your uncle Bart touching you inappropriately when you were 7. But, I’ve done crazier things than play OB/GYN with a hot girl, and my blog audience would probably enjoy hearing about me being elbow deep in a PDX hottie, so maaaaybe…. And, besides -  when in Rome…  Anyway, I hesitated….

me: [I don't recall exactly what I said here, but I remember feeling how lame it was]

her: [Some comment about the tiny dress she was wearing, and about how technically, it's not even a dress]

me: Yeah, I bet you look good out of that dress.

her: I look amazing naked.

me: I’m riding in the Naked Bike Ride tomorrow, you should come with.

her: I’m going to a lipstick lesbian dance party tomorrow night… I’m thinking of switching teams, Paul…

me: That’s hot, I totally support you in that…  you should come ride with me tomorrow.

her: I don’t have a bike.

me: I’m sure I can help you find one.

her: Maybe I’ll just ride my roller skates.

me: Perfect! You should do that. It’s going to be fun.

her: Hmmm…. well, I have to work until 9, and then I have that dance…

me: Yeah, you should just skip the dance and come with me.

her: Well, maybe. Take my number down. Call me tomorrow.

And then she started settling up her tab and walked out.  Those long, amazing legs walked… out… without… me.

Jake had been watching the whole thing from a distance.  “Dude, what happened?  I am shocked that you didn’t go home with her.  I thought it was on for sure.”

Yeah… it’s because I’m about as smooth with the ladies as an acupuncturist with Parkinson’s disease and a horrible case of  nicotine withdrawals.

SO… if anyone is reading this that I might have made a pass at in the recent past, please forgive how badly it went. I had the best of intentions. If you are someone that is hoping I will make a pass at you,  you’re gonna have to be patient with me, especially if I’m likewise attracted to you. It will be a miracle if I can keep it together enough to make anything happen.

Some days, I’m shocked that I somehow found a way to make 2 daughters.

 

Tomorrow: The moment we’ve all been waiting for, I get naked with 10,000 strangers.

Paul Duane

Paul Duane is a photographer, writer, and talk show host based in Salt Lake City, Utah.

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