Last night, I went bar hopping with my friend Ophelia from Boston.
I got in to Portland around 3:30, and hit up the USM library for some more articles for my thesis. Apparently it was the library's grand opening following soem renovations. As I sat rifling through the periodicals, wave after wave of suits, scholars and trustees kept passing boy. At one point, I was sitting a corner looking over an article on the Guatemalan Civil War, when one of the tours passed by. The guide pointed me out and said something like "Ah, see, here's one of students now, reading in one of our new upholstered chairs." I strongly debated blurting out "Oh, I'm not reading. I'm functionally illiterate and looking for something to color."
After finding several more articles, I left the library, and moved my car to my usual overnight parking spot, a block over from Congress St. I walked around Portland for half an hour, poking my head into Stitches to drool over $42 bowling and western shirts. Some day I'm going to go pimp myself out there. At the intersection across from the State Theater, I passed Jordan from Big Meat Hammer, the punkest man in Maine, and possibly New England, walking Ernie, his Welsh Corgi. Jordan's a living Portland landmark, lhaving been a staple of the New England punk scene since '76. He (and really the entire band) is like a punkrock version of
Senor Cardgage We kind of nodded to eachother and kept going. Across the street, a crowd of kids gathered for the Posion the Well show at the theatre seemed to look on in mild horror.
I called Phe from a pay phone at 5, met up with her in front of the Holiday Inn and ducked into the hotel lounge for a round of Miller lite. At that point, we were accompanied by one of the fire fighters from her base and a former marine. The fire fighter was funny shit, in a "Good God, he's still talking about Schlitz" sort of way. It was kind of hard not to egg him on.
I hadn't eaten dinner yet, so our next stop was Granny's Burritos. I had my usual Jerk Chicken burrito and a Shipyard, while Phe tried an Amstel Light. Uncle Sam picked up the tab.
From Granny's, we swung around the corner, ducked into Amigos, and started tying them on. Motorhead was playing as we came in the door, an omen of good things to come. I started off with PBR, but quickly moved back to shipyard. When we first came in, the crowd was mostly dock workers, metalheads and a few punks. As the evening progressed, however, the hipsters began crawling in.
Around ten, we left Amigos, and headed down to the docks to shoot the breeze. We didn't stay out there too long, and soon headed over to Gritty's Tavern. Gritty's was pretty much full of meatheads, but they were playing 80s music, so it was pretty tolerable. We stuck around for two rounds, then started heading back to the hotel.
As we made our way down Fore St., we passed an amusing old drunk dancing and capering in front of a banjo player. About a block past the dancer, Phe grabbed my arm, and pulled me into a club that was blasting Duran Duran. I guess it was called Diggers. After two rounds of beer and a cup of Red Bull and Jager, we started to leave. These two really drunk girls saw we were heading out and started begging us to stay, and asking us where we were going. I don't remember talking to them at all before that, so I was kind of sketched out and decided to fuck with them a little. I told them we were headed to the graveyard.
By the time we left we were both pretty hammered. We stumbled down Fore St, slowly making our way back to the hotel, where we both pretty much passed out.
We both woke up around six thirty this morning and talked for about half an hour before parting ways.
It was bright and crisp in Portland; the kind of morning where if I weren't hungover and had remembered to bring my sunglasses, i would have been genuinely happy to be out so early. The streets were all but empty. The sidewalk in front of the State Theater was littered with flyers for the upcoming Bouncing Souls/Avail/Unseen/Randy show, assumably dropped by the same crowd of kids that were gathered there yesterday. How considerate of them.
The ride home was kind of tedious. Stopping at a Dunkin Donuts in Falmouth, I picked up a bagel and latte. They put way too much sugar in the coffee, but I really was just drinking it for the caffeine. I got stuck behind a student driver doing 35 in a 50 zone much of the way. I was hesitant to pass him because I didnt want to draw too much attention to myself and get pulled over.
I finally made it home around 8:30, and have been waiting for my caffeine buzz to die down before taking a nap.
Perhaps I will go see Kill Bill this evening with my sister.
I got in to Portland around 3:30, and hit up the USM library for some more articles for my thesis. Apparently it was the library's grand opening following soem renovations. As I sat rifling through the periodicals, wave after wave of suits, scholars and trustees kept passing boy. At one point, I was sitting a corner looking over an article on the Guatemalan Civil War, when one of the tours passed by. The guide pointed me out and said something like "Ah, see, here's one of students now, reading in one of our new upholstered chairs." I strongly debated blurting out "Oh, I'm not reading. I'm functionally illiterate and looking for something to color."
After finding several more articles, I left the library, and moved my car to my usual overnight parking spot, a block over from Congress St. I walked around Portland for half an hour, poking my head into Stitches to drool over $42 bowling and western shirts. Some day I'm going to go pimp myself out there. At the intersection across from the State Theater, I passed Jordan from Big Meat Hammer, the punkest man in Maine, and possibly New England, walking Ernie, his Welsh Corgi. Jordan's a living Portland landmark, lhaving been a staple of the New England punk scene since '76. He (and really the entire band) is like a punkrock version of
Senor Cardgage We kind of nodded to eachother and kept going. Across the street, a crowd of kids gathered for the Posion the Well show at the theatre seemed to look on in mild horror.
I called Phe from a pay phone at 5, met up with her in front of the Holiday Inn and ducked into the hotel lounge for a round of Miller lite. At that point, we were accompanied by one of the fire fighters from her base and a former marine. The fire fighter was funny shit, in a "Good God, he's still talking about Schlitz" sort of way. It was kind of hard not to egg him on.
I hadn't eaten dinner yet, so our next stop was Granny's Burritos. I had my usual Jerk Chicken burrito and a Shipyard, while Phe tried an Amstel Light. Uncle Sam picked up the tab.
From Granny's, we swung around the corner, ducked into Amigos, and started tying them on. Motorhead was playing as we came in the door, an omen of good things to come. I started off with PBR, but quickly moved back to shipyard. When we first came in, the crowd was mostly dock workers, metalheads and a few punks. As the evening progressed, however, the hipsters began crawling in.
Around ten, we left Amigos, and headed down to the docks to shoot the breeze. We didn't stay out there too long, and soon headed over to Gritty's Tavern. Gritty's was pretty much full of meatheads, but they were playing 80s music, so it was pretty tolerable. We stuck around for two rounds, then started heading back to the hotel.
As we made our way down Fore St., we passed an amusing old drunk dancing and capering in front of a banjo player. About a block past the dancer, Phe grabbed my arm, and pulled me into a club that was blasting Duran Duran. I guess it was called Diggers. After two rounds of beer and a cup of Red Bull and Jager, we started to leave. These two really drunk girls saw we were heading out and started begging us to stay, and asking us where we were going. I don't remember talking to them at all before that, so I was kind of sketched out and decided to fuck with them a little. I told them we were headed to the graveyard.
By the time we left we were both pretty hammered. We stumbled down Fore St, slowly making our way back to the hotel, where we both pretty much passed out.
We both woke up around six thirty this morning and talked for about half an hour before parting ways.
It was bright and crisp in Portland; the kind of morning where if I weren't hungover and had remembered to bring my sunglasses, i would have been genuinely happy to be out so early. The streets were all but empty. The sidewalk in front of the State Theater was littered with flyers for the upcoming Bouncing Souls/Avail/Unseen/Randy show, assumably dropped by the same crowd of kids that were gathered there yesterday. How considerate of them.
The ride home was kind of tedious. Stopping at a Dunkin Donuts in Falmouth, I picked up a bagel and latte. They put way too much sugar in the coffee, but I really was just drinking it for the caffeine. I got stuck behind a student driver doing 35 in a 50 zone much of the way. I was hesitant to pass him because I didnt want to draw too much attention to myself and get pulled over.
I finally made it home around 8:30, and have been waiting for my caffeine buzz to die down before taking a nap.
Perhaps I will go see Kill Bill this evening with my sister.