from my #notebook-
Sitting in a bar next to the hotel we are staying in in Portland, OR. I really don’t care from nothing about drinking but I am starving and need to eat or I will be fit to be tied in a couple of hours. Though, admittedly, I am having a Goose Port IPA. It is not bad.
Looks like Venezuela is playing the Dominican Republic in some sort of baseball game.
There is a girl crashed in a chair over here to my right. She is all wrapped up in a little ball in the chair. I doubt she is drunk or passed out. I think she is just a tired traveler.
We left the cabin today around 10 AM and traveled to see Mt. St. Helens. We saw Silver Lake and the mountain. We really didn’t see much of the mountain. We did travel up the road a ways, maybe 25 miles or so of the 45 but I decided against traveling too much further.
Afterwards we traveled I-5 a way. I was going to take Angel up to see the capital but she turned me off on Highway 12 before we got to Olympia and we journeyed dang near to Aberdeen before I found the road to Raymond, which we took and went back to Chehalis and Aunt Linda’s. We gathered Mom and drove to Portland and after about an hour of trying to find a restaurant and returning the rental car I am now sitting alone in the bar next to the hotel waiting on a burger, scribbling in my book and being served beer by a man with a manbun.
I may be the only man in this place not wearing a manbun. His arms are majorly tattooed though. I guess all of this makes him incredibly manly.
Signs all over this place say that this bar is under “intense” surveillance. I wonder what that means. How interesting can watching me write in this book be?
Now Across from me in the bar is a group of four sitting at a table. Two of them have more camera equipment than I will ever own. A young girl is using some of this gear to film two women talking at the table. They are no one that I recognise and I am not sure that they are speaking English but the young girl with the camera reminds me of a real young Laura San Giacomo.
I am guessing that this group of four are French from some of the conversation that I have heard.
There is a dark haired girl at the bar with a page boy haircut of sorts. She is 30ish, not overly attractive but she has worked every man at the bar in the last half-hour or so that I have been in here. She will be getting laid by one or all of them tonight.
The blonde crashed in the chair over here just awoke and stormed away when the jukebox- that the bimbo at the bar fed- got really loud all of a sudden, She must be an employee here. SHe has gone in and out of a couple of places that I didn’t know were doors.
The Dominican baseball team is ahead of Venezuela 2-0 in this game of the World Baseball Classic and I just noticed that all the guys around the brunette with the pageboy haircut have left- maybe just outside to have a smoke- and now she is working a young blonde girl sitting next to the her at the bar. I probably shouldn’t be so cynical or perverted but what is going on here is so obvious that even I can see it going on and I am an idiot.
The girl who was crashed over here by me is a pissed-off barmaid. She doesn’t want to be here tonight.
I should probably backup a bit and say that we took the car back to the rental place this evening and we had to wait around for the shuttle to take us back to the hotel. That was a hoot! Man, there are some fucked up people flying into and out of the Portland Airport.