We went to the Horse Brass again because Millwall were on. Today, though, we had a fellow traveller in Phil—a Navy guy who resides across the water from Seattle.
He’s class, and we met him after he got talking to Steve at the hostel. After the game, we accompanied him in his unbelievably cool station wagon to Columbia River Gorge and Multnomah Falls, which were pretty spectacular.
The sights, however, were nothing compared to the excitement that riding in Phil’s most American of motors gave us. It led to us spending the majority of the evening looking at cars and researching whether we could get one registered.
Phil also taught us to look for Mexican Coca-Cola because it contains real sugar. That sort of info is vital on quests to alleviate the consequent pain of a night on the scoops.
On that note, we visited a bar filled with couch-surfer types before deciding it wasn’t our scene and trying out another sports bar on 21st and Glisan, The Pharmacy Sports Bar & Grill (sorry, Underdogs).
We took over the jukebox, and Jon rather hilariously put us in danger of an arse-kicking (should that be “ass-whopping?”) by sticking on “Aquarius” by The Fifth Dimension. The meanest-looking, fattest bastard in the bar angrily shouted “What the fuck is this!?” to his *buddy* while directing evils our way.
Unperturbed, we continued with our playlist of pap for potential pain in Portland, which also featured “Outside” by Stain’d (though that’s probably popular in the Pacific Northwest), “Ebeneezer Goode” by The Shamen and “Little James” by Oasis.
Tonight I shall dream of owning a station wagon and heading to California in it.