Sunday, April 1, 2018

Assholes and Hamhocks Part Two

Part One

We settled up the bill and walked out to her car.

Just don't fucking move here after you fall in love with the place. 

I wasn't planning on it. 

Nobody ever plans on it, til they do. 

We headed out.

Portland is a pretty city. Just before Chantel arrived, in the midst of my walk, I realized I could fall in love with the place. I tweeted out that Portland is the kind of place I could spend six nights in and end up with six different love stories.

One day with Chantel as my tour guide and I think I found twice that many love stories.

That tree is gorgeous.

We have a lot of those. 

So what's up with this Powell's place?

It's a huge book store with all kinds of floors and cool shit. I need to go find a photographer book so this is perfect. 

We found a place to park across the street from Powell's.

This place is so different than when I was a kid. 


It smells better for one. 

I took a deep breath. It smelled like a big city.

What did it used to smell like?



Yes. Unwashed assholes. And HAMHOCKS! 

I almost fell into traffic in a laughing fit. That happens a lot with Chantel.

We walked across the street and into Powell's. All at once I got it.

So many stories of books.

C'mon, we're going to the top!

Along the way we passed a sign that Laurie Kilmartin was there the day before. We were both gutted. She's a badass comedienne and we both love that particular brand of comedienne.

She went to the photographer section. There were a bunch of coffee table books across from where Chantel settled in. I saw a Lovings photo book and got lost in it for awhile.

I stood there touching the pages, thanking them for opening the door for people like me and Samantha. Chantel tried to tell me about the photographer she was looking for but, I was too self-conscious of the tears in my eyes to face her.

I left her there for a bit and walked to a section of used collections. I found a four volume set of 1001 Arabian Nights. I sat right on the floor and breathed in the pages, soaked up the words and let my hands make love to the bindings.

I should have bought the set and dealt with getting them home later.

I bought nothing. I perused, touched, breathed in countless books.

Chantel found me.

C'mon, they don't have the book I want. I wanna show you the library I used to spend my time in when I was homeless. 

She said it like it was nothing. Just some benign fact like, bookstores sell books. 

We left and hit the street.

Titty sprinkles!

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