The Night of Three Andrews
(The first Andrew being myself.)
The second night of my vacation in Portland/Forest Grove, OR for Matthew’s graduation I had the pleasure of spending with Ashleigh Estelle Bragg. A love of my life.
After getting a cute zip-up hoodie at American Apparel and eating at Masu, a delicioussss contemporary japanese restaurant (http://www.masusushi.com) [1 Tokyo Drop], in downtown Portland, Ashleigh and I went bar-hopping.
Ashleigh wanted to take me to Vault Martini (http://www.vaultmartini.com) [none], a classy, beautiful all martini bar, but it was packed like one of my suitcases, stretching every at stitch {not unlike some of the women in their dresses at this place}, so we went elsewhere. We wanted gay, and gay is what we got.
Our first gay bar turned out to be the young, bitch infested Red Cap/Boxxes (http://www.boxxes.com/boxxes) [1 Vanilla Vodka Shooter] paying a cover for a drag show that ended when we stepped inside.
Moving on to the friendlier, more diverse Scandals (http://www.scandalspdx.com), we still weren’t feelin’ the right vibe and upon leaving, a few guys in the corner who’d been checking me out commented, “Damn, she’s leaving.” (At that moment I thought of Jeff and how I wished SHE was there!)
The last bar we briefly visited (Silverado, http://silveradopdx.com) [1 Vodka Cranberry, 1 Cosmo] was, at first glance a hip, young, diverse good time. It was only a few minutes before we realized we were in a pretty trashy, gay strip-club. We were tired of hopping so we stuck around just long enough for; an old, drunk, touchy-feely man tell me he wanted to “take care of me,” another who wanted to talk about High School Musical, tell me to put on my glasses and stop glaring (squinting) at people, and a beautiful drag queen caress my face.
[Drink Count: 4]
Next stop: P.F. Chang’s. I needed the refreshing Veggie Lettuce Wraps like nobody’s business. The waiter {Andrew #2} believed me when I said I worked at the P.F. Chang’s in Santa Clara, CA and gave us a 25% off discount.
I questioned my ability to drive as we walked, or more like stumbled to Matthew’s car {which I had borrowed for the night}, but I drove home anyway. I was almost to Matthew’s dorm when I guess I fell asleep at the wheel and drove into a two-foot deep, dirt ditch. That woke me up and when I regained control of the car, got it back on the road and got out to see if there was any damage, I noticed there was a car parked behind me. 3 young locals (“Grovers,” Matthew corrected me) stepped out of their car and asked if I was alright and had I had anything to drink. Embarrassed as hell, I said yes I have but I’m okay. {Not one scratch on the car, thank god.} They insisted I shouldn’t drive, seeing as they just witnessed me barrel into a ditch and one of the guys offered to drive me home. I said, “Sure,” and laughed because it was all I could do. Andrew #3 drove me to Matthew’s dorm and hopped out to get back together with his friends.
I’m so lucky to be alive. I really am. Don’t drink and think you can drive. You can’t.
The second night of my vacation in Portland/Forest Grove, OR for Matthew’s graduation I had the pleasure of spending with Ashleigh Estelle Bragg. A love of my life.
After getting a cute zip-up hoodie at American Apparel and eating at Masu, a delicioussss contemporary japanese restaurant (http://www.masusushi.com) [1 Tokyo Drop], in downtown Portland, Ashleigh and I went bar-hopping.
Ashleigh wanted to take me to Vault Martini (http://www.vaultmartini.com) [none], a classy, beautiful all martini bar, but it was packed like one of my suitcases, stretching every at stitch {not unlike some of the women in their dresses at this place}, so we went elsewhere. We wanted gay, and gay is what we got.
Our first gay bar turned out to be the young, bitch infested Red Cap/Boxxes (http://www.boxxes.com/boxxes) [1 Vanilla Vodka Shooter] paying a cover for a drag show that ended when we stepped inside.
Moving on to the friendlier, more diverse Scandals (http://www.scandalspdx.com), we still weren’t feelin’ the right vibe and upon leaving, a few guys in the corner who’d been checking me out commented, “Damn, she’s leaving.” (At that moment I thought of Jeff and how I wished SHE was there!)
The last bar we briefly visited (Silverado, http://silveradopdx.com) [1 Vodka Cranberry, 1 Cosmo] was, at first glance a hip, young, diverse good time. It was only a few minutes before we realized we were in a pretty trashy, gay strip-club. We were tired of hopping so we stuck around just long enough for; an old, drunk, touchy-feely man tell me he wanted to “take care of me,” another who wanted to talk about High School Musical, tell me to put on my glasses and stop glaring (squinting) at people, and a beautiful drag queen caress my face.
[Drink Count: 4]
Next stop: P.F. Chang’s. I needed the refreshing Veggie Lettuce Wraps like nobody’s business. The waiter {Andrew #2} believed me when I said I worked at the P.F. Chang’s in Santa Clara, CA and gave us a 25% off discount.
I questioned my ability to drive as we walked, or more like stumbled to Matthew’s car {which I had borrowed for the night}, but I drove home anyway. I was almost to Matthew’s dorm when I guess I fell asleep at the wheel and drove into a two-foot deep, dirt ditch. That woke me up and when I regained control of the car, got it back on the road and got out to see if there was any damage, I noticed there was a car parked behind me. 3 young locals (“Grovers,” Matthew corrected me) stepped out of their car and asked if I was alright and had I had anything to drink. Embarrassed as hell, I said yes I have but I’m okay. {Not one scratch on the car, thank god.} They insisted I shouldn’t drive, seeing as they just witnessed me barrel into a ditch and one of the guys offered to drive me home. I said, “Sure,” and laughed because it was all I could do. Andrew #3 drove me to Matthew’s dorm and hopped out to get back together with his friends.
I’m so lucky to be alive. I really am. Don’t drink and think you can drive. You can’t.