A Cascadian Emergency: Liberating East A.k.a. The Flatest Little Bar In Portland

Portland /// Swan Lewis

Hi Friends! What do you all like to do on a Saturday night in a really, really dope city? Answers vary, I am sure. Yet I can almost guarantee that what I did this past Saturday night is something no one digs.

And now I get the questions like,” O.K. Swanny, stop exaggerating!” or,” Come on, and fucking tell us!”. Ha. No. I am NOT motherfucking exaggerating. And no, I am not going to fucking tell you.

Nah- of course I am playing. I mean I am writing an article here. So check it- I did something really, really wack. My intentions were pure as it was a birthday party of sorts and I was rolling with one of my aces, Stretch, and his Empress. I hadn’t seen them in awhile and my editor, Dan “Boss Man” Hagan, thought it was best for me to leave the comfy confines of the couch that I was currently holding down and represent.

So here it is…

Destination: East. I am embarrassed to even admit that and for those of you that have been there, you know what I mean. For those of you that haven’t been there, let me explain

Right from the jump I catch one of the weakest punks this wonderful city has to offer. A bad omen already, aside from the pumping house music. I am sure that you see him around, and if I laid out for you his uniform, I am sure that you would know exactly who the fuck I am talking about. Later this conversation with myself and this scenester girl actually happened with this exact non Renegade, Pony McSamehat:

Super Tits: Hey, this is the DJ!

Swan Lewis: Wow- that is REALLY exciting!

Super Tits: He is one of the best house DJ’s in Portland

Swan Lewis: What am I, holding a fucking glow stick and eating the candy necklace off a fourteen year old girl?!

Anyway we proceed, Stretch and I, to the bar to have our customary top notch whiskey on the rocks. However here, at this obvious style over substance spot, we get the world’s smallest glass filled to the top with ice. I mean, do I even have to go into the propers on consuming whiskey?! Especially at a spot down fucking town that really wants to be all that over all things else? So naturally Stretch pulls a beer for the second round. I make the same choice since I do live in Cascadia and one would think it nearly impossible to fuck up a draft in this particular part of the Milky Way.

So I get some local beer that I hadn’t sampled but I had to take that bitch back because it was awful. Honestly the first time in my life I had done something like that. I follow that up with a safe house I.P.A. that I consumed on a semi regular basis during this past summer. And what do you think happened next? Surprise, surprise- the fucking hop masterpiece was flat. And I am sure that you have pieced together the obvious- the other beer was flat as well. How in the love for the Sun can one bar be so fucked?!? Portland, Cascadia is hardly the place to send out a bar full of amateurs, yet East apparently finds it fully acceptable.

I mean, for sure, the bar dudes had catchy ink and hot mullets. But who the fuck cares when the crowded little space of this bar was filled with so much insecure sheep mentality I almost got caught up myself and strayed from the proper Cascadian perspective and started chanting for Obama.

The makings of a hot spot, no doubt, but is it with weak mixing from the DJ’s ‘bumping’ through the computer speakers? Ok, no need to go on. You get the point.

In fact, the next time some Renegades run up in this spot I have a feeling it will be in black hoodies and in numbers completely vaporized to liberate this primely located venue from its wasted present function and give it purpose, and make it much more habitable for the people of Portland, Cascadia, Left Coast.