My husband is a rockstar. He packed up the car while I was at a political fundraiser for Paul Akers (See how I did that? Not only did I name drop Paul Akers, I made it clear how awesome Paul Akers is and how excited I am to work for his campaign. Ok, so I didn’t really make it that clear, but I did when I was trying to clarify how awesome Paul Akers is in a gigantic run on, half sensed rambling all stuck between parenthesis.) Back to how awesome my hubby is; We left at 9pm and the hubby drove straight from WA to CA by 7am.

Lets back it up a bit, because we did make a pit stop in Oregon. I have a new found hate for Oregon. Yes, cool people come out of Oregon. Awesome beer, donuts, cheese, wine, chocolate, and the big rock from Goonies is all from Oregon. Actually, I should rephrase that and say my new found hate is for Portland, not Oregon as a whole. Just Portland. They get my vote for Most Crappy City, Ever.  We decided to stop for Voo Doo Donuts – at midnight, yes the kiddo was still awake. What we did not take into account was Portlands shitty planning committee that did one way roads with no u-turns and what seemed like 5 mile long bridges everywhere. Even with GPS and google maps driving directions, we still proceeded to get lost – because the streets that GPS and maps were having us turn down, were going the wrong way. They never got the memo you couldn’t head south on a north only street.

We find Voodoo Donuts, there was a line out the building and some of the freakiest, drunkest, scariest, weirdos hanging out around outside. Since the kiddo was still awake and we couldn’t practice responsible parenting by just leaving him locked in the car alone, I got out and waited.

Then I saw the sign that said “Cash Only.”  Who carries cash anymore, besides bartenders and strippers? As I was digging through my purse, these two gay guys asked if I was in line and I said “Uhm, I think so, but I just saw the sign that they take cash only.” And the guy said, “Well if you don’t have cash you’re not in line.” then they cut in front of me. They had an ATM inside, but I was really hoping to avoid the ten dollar ATM charge. I waited behind them. Couple minutes later he turned around and said “I thought you didn’t have cash?”
“There is an ATM inside.”
“And you can use the ATM?”
“Why wouldn’t I be able to?”
“Well, you have to have cash in your bank account to use an ATM.” he turned back around and they shared a smartass laugh, “And I was going to buy you a donut, too.”  he said to his partner.
I know that I normally have this whole unshowered, homeless can’t-afford-a-donut look going on, but not this time. I had makeup on, my hair was done – my kid barely recognized me. There were a few ways I could have handled this. Primarily I could have ignored it and let them have their little moment. But I didn’t.
“Well thank you, but judging by your outfit I feel I should be giving you the handout. Would you would like me to buy you a low-fat one, since your pants are already too tight?” The people behind me laughed. They didn’t but they did have more smartass, bitchy things to say. They were rude and flat out jerks to everyone. Including the guy at the counter. I’ve never met an asshole gay guy before, I’ve met divas, but never a flat out asshole. The guy at the counter wouldn’t give them the bacon maple bar that they wanted because they weren’t made yet. But he did give me some, Why? because I was polite, patient and kind. And then I tipped. All of which the guy at the counter pointed out when the two guys made a stink about him making me two bacon maple bars and not them. Victory was mine.

On the way out with my dozen donuts, a homeless man asked me for money. I said “No, but you may have a donut.” His response? “What the fudk do I want a donut for? Thats not going to buy me beer. Just give me the two dollars a damn donut costs.” And then he got in my personal space and started making a gesture toward my purse. I was actually mildly scared. Yet, there were tons of people around, watching, not caring. I tried to just walk, but then he got closer and tried to block my way. The two gay guys were standing by, watching and laughing. I was holding the gigantic pink box with my purse over my shoulder and the homeless man made a reach for my purse saying “Just give me two dollars.”  (Insert Better Off Dead joke here) I flipped my shoulder back and said “Get the fudk out of my way NOW.”  Knowing full well that I was going to have to throw my box of donuts at him, take off running, then get back in line and wait another 45 minutes so the hubby can get a damn maple bacon bar. However that didn’t happen. The homeless guy stepped aside and started flipping me off, yelling obscenities at me, gay guys laughing harder, I’m about to pee my pants and then – no hubby. I could not see our car anywhere. Another homeless man joined in with the “Elitist bitch” routine. I was genuinely scared. It’s not like I’m a big girl… I’m alone in a strange city where everyone I have encountered is an asshole and there are emotionally unstable men who are cursing me out and want my purse. I hate Portland.

The hubby finally drove by and I jumped in before he even came to a full stop.. Dukes of Hazzard style.

Then we got lost again.

We finally found the Interstate. The speed limit was 55. Fail.

Donuts were good though.

Flatter Me