Hammer Time:

I had the privilege of having dinner with my two great sister’s last Friday. Actually, we spent the day together going antique shopping and enjoying the beautiful September weather we are having. That evening after having some wine we decided to go out for some overpriced-not-really-but-kinda ice cream. On our way to the cold treat store I witnessed something quite new wandering the streets of Portland. We were on a super busy street, I believe it was NW Everett and 10th, and walking ahead of us about half a block was a guy who looked fairly drunk. He looked like he should be in an emo band; untucked black and red plaid shirt, black skinny jeans and black trucker hat…oh and black glasses, the kind Buddy Holly would wear.

As we continued to follow him he neared a post office box. He then made a poor attempt at looking around and crammed himself between the wall of a furniture store and this post office box. I instantly knew exactly what was up. Time to release some of that alcohol in his system…then all of a sudden he looked up and saw my sisters and I walking towards him. He proceeded to maneuver around a little bit to make it look he was taking it easy and leaning on the damn thing. As we neared him he stared at me, smiled and gave me a head nod, as if he was saying, “what up son?” A freaking head nod and all I could hear was him peeing. We quickly past, but that image will be with me forever. My sisters somehow caught up in the conversation missed 90% of what happened, but I was quick to point out the left over stream of urine still on the ground as we made our way home. So here’s to Mr. Emo pee in public. Welcome to Amsterdam.