Where I Want To Go: Eugenio’s

I was expecting to be at another dive bar but a friend suggested meeting here for a drink and I figured; let’s just kill two birds with one stone while I wait.

This place reminds me of Proof, actually, but it feels more open and warm, where Proof wanted to press me in. Both spaces have their pluses: Proof’s darkness is good for pretending you’re in a spy thriller, clandestinely meeting your contact to get you out of Hipsterville….

Eugenio’s feels more like a place to stretch my legs out. The presence of country music is probably contributing to my feeling that there should be a nerf gun shootout.

The Hop Valley Pontifex IPA is a biter. Pine nose and then a peach/pine wrestling match at the finish. It isn’t bad but I’m not sure that it always works. The kind of beer that I’d want to pair with something munchie; cheese, especially, comes to mind.

Part of me wishes I was at the dive bar. The one I want to go to is downtown though and it’s a week of parades and sailors and I want no part of either. Too many people, too much ‘celebration’, not enough quiet darkness to resent the sun from.

Division street is changing, though; has been for a little while now. Lots of apartment complexes, lots of liveliness and as always, the weirder things are being swept away. The Egyptian Club, probably the biggest lesbian bar in Portland, gone. New apartment complex in its place; boring, with its soon-to-house boring shops on the street level. There’s a porn theater just a few blocks away, and in grand Portland fashion, there’s a sign on the door telling patrons that they have bike parking inside.

I can’t imagine that theater remaining for much longer. Too bad. Surely to be replaced by tiny apartments and hipper than hip joints where fools like me can stretch their legs out.

I resent that. I resent interesting parts of interesting neighborhoods being wrecked for the shiny, the new. Not that everything old is worth saving, or that everything new is terrible just that nobody wants to see them get along, forgetting that the old weird stuff is what made the place interesting, the new stuff makes it habitable.

Then again, do we really need porn theaters these days? Am I wishing for the return of the telegraph machine?

Could be. Could be. But Portland needs places for the wierdos, the square pegs that don’t fit in, even here, to help make us interesting and it’s less about the porno theater and more about what the porno theater represents when it’s gone.

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