A Scumbag’s Guide to Portland – Part 4

Yeah. With your dumb orange car. Photo from http://www.mybeautifulmessblog.com

Yeah. With your dumb orange car. 

Hey cats and kittens, it’s that time again! Happy belated Memorial Day. Hope you’re still making out with a soldier you met last night, and eating leftover BBQ, cooked in the name of our brave civil war heroes. It’s that blissful time of year when day-drunk is socially acceptable, so long as it’s accompanied by watermelon and some flags. On that note, this week’s section is dedicated to one letter and one letter only: S – the sexiest letter in Portland. We will cover everything from the dark, beautiful dive that I call my living room, to the dark beautiful dive where hot chicks take their clothes off, to the dark beautiful dive closest to my place where you will not remember leaving, but odds are, you won’t be waking up in your own bed. So saddle-up, PDX sleaze balls, cuz this week is my most autobiographical and fun section yet.

 

Your new North Star

Your new North Star

Starring at Star

Starring at Star

Star Bar's guts, taken from examiner.com

Star Bar - My shining little Star! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. The beautiful Tamar! The handsome Josh! The owners are my friends, and this is my Portland living room. The pinball machine works, the sidewalk has tables, and I have left my debit card there so many times, I have considered leaving it for good and just getting another one. The food menu, once delicious and sleazy, is now delicious and not sleazy at all. The barkeeps will lift you up when you are down, and agree on anything, so long as you don’t start fights or mess with people too bad. I can’t say enough about my sweet little second apartment, so come on down to SE 6th and Morrison, take a seat in the cool vinyl booths, order a shot of well, tip your hat to the regulars, and don’t forget to document everything via the fantastic little photobooth in the corner. This way you can hold onto the memories the wacky rotating cast of characters gives you, far into the next morning.

Le Slammer – Photo by Tom Chamberlain Photography

The Slammer Tavern – A drunk Forest Gump type of scumbag in Portland probably said one time, ”The Slammer is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” The crowd here varies from Saturday night, intimidated tourists, to scuzzy, long-haired tattooed metal heads (otherwise known as my raison d’etre),  to dizzy bachelorettes, looking to guzzle down a night cap on their last night of freedom. I’ve seen it all here. The picnic benches outside make for a perfect place to smoke and talk shit to passers-by on those sunny Portland Mondays, and there’s a digital jukebox and some video games (including skeeball? I think there might be skeelball. It’s kind of blurry but I think I remember seeing skeeball. Fuck. I love skeeball). It’s cash only and the bathroom ”door” might as well be translucent but it’s just a hop skip and a jump from Star Bar, so you can find me there whenever I feel I need a change of locations for five minutes.

Sassy's, by Disaster Casual

Sassy’s, by Disaster Casual

Sassy’s – What do you think I am, some kind of Morrison creep? Well I guess I’ll just call you Miss Cleo, because you’re prediction is pretty accurate and also yes I am a Scorpio. Sassy’s slumps down the street from Star and Slammer, and it’s home to some of the prettiest little strippers in Portland. It’s an extremely relaxed atmostphere, where you’ll swear even the girls dancing are having an all-right time. They have a covered patio outdoors for those rainy nights and sunny days (Come on. Everyone knows we’re all vampires. Didn’t your dumb girlfriend make you watch Twighlight or whatever), and the bar drinks aren’t even watered down. The food tastes more than acceptable to the common drunkard, and the darkness will make you forget that it’s 2pm on a week day, you’re unemployed with slim to no chance of a future, and you have to pay pretty girls to glance in your general direction.

Some Yelper's picture of Slow

Some Yelper’s picture of Slow

Slow Bar - Best burgers in Portland, with booths tall enough so that you can have very important business discussions with your friends, to discuss very important business. The staff here are sweeter than sugar and are all total babes, too, so you have something nice-looking to dream about when your passed out on your face. It’s right next to My Father’s Place (which is it’s own thing) and a drunken stumble from when you find yourself in betwixt Ugg boots and feather hair extensions at Dig A Pony on the weekend. Slow Bar is a great place to either start off or end the night.

Take a trip to the ship! (photo from Yelp)

Take a trip to the ship! (photo from Yelp)

Ship Ahoy – I was first taken to Ship Ahoy by a couple of my favorite scumbags – dudes who know Portland inside and out better than anyone, and I’m not telling you who because you’re supposed to ask me about this shit, not other people. Craving a trip to the ship is like no other thing – Ship Ahoy is all that will do. If your friends wanna go somewhere else, fuck them, cuz going anywhere else would be the equivalent of craving McDonald’s and then eating real, quality food instead. It’s just not the same. Most of the bartenders here are sweethearts, and even if they’re not, it’s cool, they’re just doing their job. The stools are perfect for slipping off of, or for making eyes at that one chick, the one across the bar, that one that a friend of a friend told you is a total psycho but a pretty good time for a couple hours nonetheless? Go for it, dude, cuz your twenties are most likely long gone, and the average chick in Portland is probably sick of you, and anyway, you don’t wanna have shaved today for nothing.

COME BACK NEXT WEEK for some more of the conclusion of A Scumbag’s Guide to Portland, from A-Z. <3

I love you so much.

Thanks,

Chloe

Top photo from http://www.mybeautifulmessblog.com

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About the author

Chloe Newsom - Dive Bar Desperado

I like kittens, 40s, cupcakes, pizza, metal, thigh-highs, weekends, travelling, and parks. Lemmy is god. That's...that about covers it.

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