B-Side

B Side: Yet another grungy hole-in-the-wall off Portland's infamous Burnside Blvd, just east of the river. While there's nothing specifically down-trodden about the entrance, one step inside reveals the truth about this little gem. Dim lighting, unadorned concrete floors, darkly-painted cinder block walls clad in obscure artwork, including a framed, flowery needlepoint reading "Fuck you in the face." One of the bartenders sporting the pink hair, pierced face, and tattoos everywhere else look, and for some reason a kilt...all the staff was friendly enough though. The clientele was about the same as anywhere else in Portland, eclectic as all hell, ranging from goth-punks, to hipsters, to your average, run-of-the-mill, PBR-drinking Portlander. Though, by the end of the night, I had some creepy looking dude sitting in the next booth over, staring at me with glassy, doe-eyes and an disturbingly absent look on his face.

We made ample use of the covered smoking patio out back, furnished with wooden benches and tables, heaters to stave off the mild chill and pissing rain that makes up 75% of Portland's weather (which by the way, if you've never been to Portland, there are only two seasons: Summer and rain). Naturally, every table surface was carved or graffitied with skulls, lewd comments or crudely drawn phallic symbols. The bathrooms were of a similar nature; what was once an artist's proud work of art had become a medium for the rest of the city's erratic, sharpie-drawn opinions. Cursing of all manners, some in different languages, more dicks, advice as to how one should live one's life, instructions to "eat shit and die..." you know, the standard fare.

All in all, an interesting and entertaining place to score some cheap drinks and people watch.