Hello! And welcome to the 15th post of Pizza Rat's Paradise.
Back before I knew Portland, ME, I knew Portland, OR. It was a time when Portlandia was rife among the culture of my generation, my friends sang "The Dream of the 90s is in Portland," and it was before I learned that Fred Armisen is actually part Korean.
I visited Portland with a bunch of college friends and the person I was dating at the time -- he was initially nervous since he didn't know my friends at the time, but I always knew in the back of my mind they would get along, just not in the way I expected -- what ended up happening was they bonded over playing Magic the Gathering in a hotel bed in a Motel 6. It was the first Motel 6 I've ever been in -- I suddenly realized why. But the funny thing about living in different environments is that you quickly get used to it, at least, back then I did.
Maybe I should have expected it? Classic. For some reason, I wasn't interested in learning how to play -- maybe it reminded me too much of being in a boys' club (yes they were all boys/men) and all the little boys' clubs I was plopped into when I was younger in the name of science and promoting "STEM for girls" -- a weirdly condescending campaign given that women have already known how to do science for centuries? Was this something borne out of "Male Guilt"? Unclear. What is a little bit hilarious is the fact that one of these so-called "engineering camps" I was enrolled in as a substitute for daycare was that, as the only girl in the entire cohort, I was very occupied and intent on constructing a boat of my very own. Perhaps it was a subconscious wish to sail off into the sea. The rest of the boys were off creating swords and fighting with them. Typical. I'm not making any sweeping stereotypes about gender, I'm just writing what happened at that particular charade.
Anyway, we made a quick pit stop at Voodoo, and I bought the famous Vegan Cock'n'Balls doughnut to try. Incredible. What was even better was that I couldn't finish it all, it was literally too massive to eat all in one sitting, so I carried my box around with me onto the Amtrak. There, a train attendant inquired me about the pink box and I could tell he was prying to get me to show him its contents, he wanted to see the infamous doughnut in all its glory -- as if he knew, from my touristy apparence, exactly what doughnut I was carrying.
However, I did not indulge him his wish. It was just a fun exchange, nothing more, nothing less.
If you have made it this far, thank you for reading! 💚
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