I suppose it’s indicative of how hellish my recent trip to Portland was (and not the actual trip itself, but the
getting to part of it) insofar as this: when I finally arrived in Portland late that Monday night, in the pouring rain (of course) and went out to the hotel parking lot to find the car Kim’s 
friend was kindly loaning to me, the words that came out of my mouth when I saw it were:
“Oh there you are, my little friend the Escalade.”
Yes, it’s true.
Then I giggled, that I had said such a thing, outright laughed as I keelhauled myself into the damn thing (note to self: next time bring rappelling hooks), and went on my merry way. The fun was only just beginning. To wit:
Escalade rage?
So there I was trying to follow Kim….somewhere. I forget where. Oh, I think we were dropping off her car downtown to get fixed. Point being, I was tailing her closely, or at least trying to. Until she scooted over into the right lane, and like a good driver, I put on my turn signal to get behind her, but….what ho? The car that was some distance behind her is speeding up! Must be an oversight, right?
Umm, wrong. Because as I again try to get into the right lane, he scoots even closer to Kim’s bumper, so there’s no way I can get behind her. Okay, fine, asshole. I get behind him, and figure I’ll just keep an eye on where Kim’s going.
Which would work, if this douchebag asshole didn’t suddenly creep to practically a stop with no turn signal on, before sloooowly making a right turn into the next parking lot. Asshole! I turn to look at him incredulously as I’m driving past, and this hippie-looking older bearded guy is giving me the finger! What the hell! I thought people from Portland were so nice and laidback! I am incensed, and in true Chicago fashion, am tempted to follow him and beat the ever-loving crap out of him, as we’d do in Chicago. Alas, I need to catch up with Kim – who, in very Kim-like fashion, later tells me that she didn’t notice any of this going on behind her. Sigh.
This episode makes me deeply embittered, and it would totally derail my interest in moving to Portland, except for this:
Magic Crosswalks
So Kim and I decide to stop for breakfast at Vita Café, one of the 6 billion vegan places in Portland, and after we park our cars, we have to cross the street. Now, Kim’s explained to me this whole bizarre crosswalk concept that supposedly exists in Portland, where people actually stop willy-nilly for pedestrians, but even though I’ve seen it in action, I’m still skeptical. But there’s a crosswalk, and our restaurant is across the street. I close my eyes and stretch one leg out in front of me into the street……
“Umm, Tasha, what are you doing?”
The strains of “…and we’ll all float on okay” dissipate from my head and I open my eyes. There’s a car waiting patiently, while Kim is looking at me a bit strangely. Oh. My. God. Cars actually DO stop here for pedestrians, they DO they do! I look down. My leg is still attached to the rest of my body, not having been sheared off by a crazed driver! Hallellujah, it’s a miracle!
The entire rest of my time in Portland, this same magic continues to happen. There’s a street and a crosswalk, and the second I step into said street, the cars immediately and non-bitterly come to a stop. I find myself walking across streets just for the heck of it. Whee, another street to cross! For some reason Kim finds all this a bit strange, but I say, anyone else from Chicago would do the exact same thing.
(Portlandia to be continued….)
