|
www.kevacho.com
©2002-2024
Kevin Michael Vance
Writer - Portland, Oregon
|
|
|
January 07, 2012
Again... people
So, this woman comes up to me the other day at work and asks me this meaningless and asinine question, and this is the question: do you know where stuff is? I actually laughed at her. Is that wrong? Am I being a pretentious ass hole? (Which is most definitely a possibility.) I wanted to tell her I remember where I buried a pile of Penthouse magazines outside my parents house in Missoula, MT when I was fifteen… maybe sixteen. Is that what you mean by stuff? Then she proceeds to ask me if I were a representative, or something or another. I turned to her, presenting my apron and name tag, both of which were clearly visible and said, I work here… whats your question? Turns out, she simply needed to know where the olive oil was.
But there it is – Portland, Oregon – in a bloody nutshell. Rather than be direct and ask a legitimate, intelligent question, Portlanders (and I don’t mean every single Portlander, just the general majority) would rather meander about the subject, be circuitous, indecisive, strangely passive and bizarrely mysterious. It is absolutely maddening. And this happens on a daily, dare I say, hourly basis. No wonder Portland, OR is ranked number one, as being the most unhappy city in America.
[Add Comment] 0 Comments
|
