Portland Scenes 2
A bearded and elderly transient wearing a safety vest directed traffic at the McDonald’s drive-thru. Am I supposed to tip him? He reminded me of that line from the Stones’ immortal song “Shattered,” which probably should be the American national anthem of the Pandemic.
People dressed in plastic bags
Directing traffic
Some kind of fashion
Shattered
A man wearing a kilt bought scotch in a liquor store.
A teenager pulls a u-turn with his sedan in the middle of a busy street outside the liquor store to pick up his buddies in the parking lot of a convenience store. When he rolls up to his crew, one of them says to him, “That was gigging shit.” Wait, gigging is my word! I don’t want it to become part of teenager slang!
A squirrel on a fence looked like he might attack me.
A tent was pitched mere inches from a railroad track.
A man read the contents of his energy drink as he walked his dog.
A very large woman wore practically no clothes while walking down the sidewalk.
A homeless man growled at me when I passed him splayed on the sidewalk.
Mt. Hood looked damn fine this morning.
The Willamette River is running incredibly high. There will be choice cuts of beaverwood washed ashore soon. Joy!
The vehicle I am driving could have given me a real-time stock report as I drove by a homeless encampment.