This is a scene based on real life. It is written not as it happened, and I will now conclude this post postmodern prologue.
It was after work and I was thirsty and I was pissed. I went to The Lantern on the corner of SE Morrison and 28th. The bar was dark and tiny. I nodded to the bartender and sat down, ordered a pilsner. I took the first sip and felt the bubbles on my upper lip. It made the back of my throat wet. I looked to my left to see a man with long grizzled hair pulled back and a beard streaked with gray. We nodded.
Howdy. You from around here?
I live on 28th and Burnside. How bout you?
Nah, I’m from New York.
New York huh? I lived there for a while. Nice city, but man the people there. They can be real assholes.
Yeah.
What part are you from?
I lived on the Bowery.
O yeah? I used to live on A and 3rd, but I got this gig filming wolves in Canada. I work for National Geographic. So I moved out and came to Portland after that. I couldn’t deal with New York any more.
Just because of the people?
The energy man. Did you know that when the Indians lived there it was a sacred meeting ground?
Are you serious?
Yeah man, all of these Iroquois from like hundreds of miles around used to meet there annually for the summer solstice. It was like off limits for anyone to live there.
Really?
Yea and now it’s one of the biggest cities in the world and everyone there is fucking crazy, ahaha…
I thought about it and how the city was covered in giant penises, each one screaming out that it was bigger than the last. I liked this guy.
Do you think this will one day be classic literature?
Daniel the Writer 