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My street

I thought I'd take a moment and just sorta say thanks for whatever hand of fate stuck me on W Burnside as my home for these past (and forthcoming) months. With Burnside being the stretch of road the effectively links the entire city of Portland in one form or another and the section I live in being near a transit center and three bars... we get the occasional colorful characters... The majority of the upper NW and SW area is made up of late 20/early 30's gay couples, mid-20's hipsters, and PSU students who pay for mid level apartments in a nice area by working for the multiple corporate outlets (starbucks, cost plus, levi's, etc) and upscale shops on 23rd. The area is pretty diverse considering it being so close to the West Hills and downtown. Not THE picture of diversity, but not stark of eclectic feeling.

Regardless of all of that, I love it here. I've said that before (and I have of late acknowledged that I miss the East side a little) and I'll say it every time I have a morning like this one:

I woke up after an almost all-night bender with red wine and Xena episodes on DVD after closing the Ringside bar with one of my drinking buddies, Erin (of the aforementioned "M&E", Meg and Erin). After doing what Erin and I do best (making lists over happy hour specials and sharing war stories of dating and family), we went over to the Blue Moon, grabbed a bottle of their finest red, and kicked it at her place up on SW 22nd until we both passed out. As I left her apartment with a "terrific" pinot noir induced hangover, I stopped by the video store where I work to drop off my Serenity pre-street DVD and grab the last two discs of HBO's The Wire (one hell of a show). I chatted it up with a coworker, checked the schedule, and made my way out only to find one of my favorite bartenders (Jamie the Great) opening the Bitter End pub a little late (he too was hung over). I hung out with him while he opened the bar and he comped me some soda while we exchanged drinkin' horror stories. After finishing my last drink and wishing Jamie a good shift, I continued home down Burnside to the Portland Coffee House, on 19th and Burnside. This little independent coffee shop has always reminded me of an outpost of indy in the shadows of two(!) Starbuck's and a Panda Express. The staff don't know my name (they call me "Hollywood" because I usually stop in before/after a shift), but they have my drink down and there's rarely the need to actually order. I left, 12oz Cafe Mocha (with 2 shots) in tow, and made my last stop at the Marathon Taverna on 18th to grab some to-go lunch. Kathy and Gator were working. Kathy is THE coolest barmaid and Gator is the bouncer who never cards me because I go there too much. A burger and fries order to go later and I was home in my apartment just in time for the snow fall.

The point of that long and uneventful story is that I feel very at home on this street. Two bars where the 'tenders know my name (or face or whatever), a coffee shop with smiling faces and good drinks, a job that I spend more time in when I'm off the clock than when I'm on it and two "neighbors" that make every week nice with a night cap or a good show.

Can't beat it.

posted by AmeroKafka @ 11:40 PM