The Uptight Traveler's Guide to Portland, Oregon

The constant, crushing judgment I feel for every living person and non-sentient being I encounter is an anchor that weighs me down and prevents me from experiencing true joy. But just because Mama can't experience true joy doesn't mean she can't have a good time not doin' it! (For the purposes of this paragraph I, and possibly you, are Mama.) Mama recently found herself a tourist in the socialist paradise that is Portland, Oregon. She's heard it's a nice town. She believes it's a nice town. Said judgment, however, rendered her unable to fully appreciate its charms. If you're anything like Mama (and, dear reader, I pray you are), this guide should help the Rose City's organic medicine go down.

Get Your Non-Drinking Business Done During the Day

Most non-alcohol dispensing businesses close at or around 6PM, giving the city's residents ample time to practice with their noise-rock bands, make crafts (crafts are considered currency to Portlanders, in the same way "ideas" are currency to San Franciscans), or ironically play video poker. If you want to do anything but get blotto once the sun sets, you'll be shit out of luck. Plan accordingly.

Purchase Cutesy Shit

Portland is essentially an Etsy store people live inside of. Embrace the twee and buy your estranged spouse the bacon-scented candle and mustache-shaped wine opener you know will repair your damaged relationship.

Pretend to Enjoy Bitter Beer

Portlanders love craft beers—the darker, the better. Part of being a craft beer connoisseur is convincing yourself that the more bitter a beer, the better it is. You may wonder why your face contorts into a pained grimace every time you take a sip of that local IPA. Ignore those logical feelings and prepare your body for one of the worst hangovers it will ever experience.

NOTE: If you feel like consuming a beverage that won't make you build character, a mere $3 can net you a tall boy of shitty American macrobrew. Tell your friends it's an ironic choice, all the while knowing in your heart of hearts you're drinking it because you want to consume something that doesn't taste like coffee grinds.

Enjoy the Silence

Portland is a glorified suburb. Of what, I have no idea. Walking around its neighborhoods, you can't help feeling overwhelmed by the solace and silence of your surroundings. Traversing through Portland, much like the Pacific Northwest itself, requires schlepping through a vast wasteland of beauty in order to finally reach your destination. Use this time to think about how insignificant you are in the universe, or how you can't wait to eat the vegan doughnut you're walking toward. After all, you've earned it!

Don't Get Sick

You can't buy that cold medicine scumbags make meth out of over the counter in Oregon, on account of all the scumbags in the Pacific Northwest who make meth out of cold medicine. I, naturally, came down with a cold immediately after getting into town; I was heartbroken to learn the best I could do to cure my illness was purchase an overpriced blister pack of ineffective phenylephrine. A Californian friend who had smuggled some pseudoephedrine (y'know, the stuff scumbags make meth out of) over the border thankfully slid me a couple from her reserves. The enthusiasm I experienced when she handed it to me was akin to what I would feel were I an actual meth addict, feeding the proverbial dragon.

Embrace the Clichés

Walking around Portland, you will see a sign indicating that a house's main selling point is its "peaceful interior." You will see a gender-indeterminate person chopping wood outside of an artisanal pizza restaurant. You will see a "Coexist" bumper sticker on a Prius. You expected all of these things. You win.

Find Strip Clubs Empowering

Apparently Portland's strip clubs are "progressive" because the gals choose to play Joy Division and shit instead of "Pour Some Sugar on Me." I mean, if suicide doesn't kill your boner, I don't know what will. You go, go-go girls!

Don't Stay With Charles

Charles (name changed to protect the innocent, by which I mean to say, myself), looked non-threatening in his Airbnb profile. So non-threatening, as a matter of fact, my fellow travelers and I mocked his goofy grin and presumably organic sensibilities. When we arrived, Jane, his no doubt long-suffering wife, met us at the door. With a warm smile and questionable hat choice, she showed us our room for the weekend—the futon, the bike guides, the shower stocked with Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps.

"Would you like to meet Charles?" she asked. "He's at the pub." The fact that it was 3 PM on a weekday didn't immediately tip us off that Charles was not as non-threatening as his profile photo implied. Meeting him at the pub, his drunken "Fuck San Francisco" and "Fuck Google" and "Fuck Kurt Cobain—he fucked up an entire generation with his shit" rants implied his true nature. Knocking on the door and telling my friend Anna that "In [his] past life, [he] was a photographer," asking if he could take photos of her at her stand-up show, then informing her at said show that he'd "be over there, taking photos of [her] sweetie ass" solidified it. Anna, if you don't leave a negative Airbnb review, I swear to God…

Count the Subarus

PORTLAND FUN FACT: Did you know? There are 3.5 Subaru Outbacks for every Portland resident! Wanna play a fun game? The name of the game is, "Count as Many Subaru Outbacks as You Can Before You Lose Track." Personally, I stopped at 48. But that's simply because I was having too much fun!

Pay $4 for a Coffee

Coffee's like craft beer—the more expensive it is, the better it, apparently, is. The city is rife with beaneries, ruled with an iron fist by career baristas. Folgers, smolgers… am I white? (I am.)

If You Want to Blend In, Don't Use an Umbrella

In spite of the oppressively wet conditions, not to mention logic, I was told locals never use umbrellas. Granted, the person who told me this was told that by a drunk at the local Eagle's Lodge, but still. Stay wet, Portland.

Don't Be Underage

If you're not old enough to drink and die in a war, you can't even go to a movie when the sun goes down, let alone a bar. Sorry, kiddos.

Don't Wait in Line for the Mexican Food Place

There's a restaurant in Portland that serves Mexican food (please, suspend your disbelief). Whether or not the food is authentic, I have no idea. Residents have informed me that white people work there, which makes me think the answer is no. Regardless, there is always a vast, snaking line out the door. The lesson to be learned from all of this? People mock Portland's lack of diversity for a reason.

Bring an Equally Misanthropic Friend

If anyone's more uptight than me, it's my friend Anna—I say that lovingly, respectfully, and admiringly. If I didn't have her to commiserate and riff about vegan dog food with, I would have turned the gun on myself.

Get Over Yourself

Portland does not have time for your negativity. If you're anything like me, you'll notice that the common response to the question, "Do you like it here?" is an emphatic "Yes!" Y'know what the common denominator is in the fact that everyone but you loves Portland? It's you. Chill out, man! Coexist!

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