Tuesday, December 26, 2006

The Strip

Rumor round town has it that Daisy has been spotted recently dancing at Dino's.

Well, it's suspected that it's Daisy. I mean, just how many one-armed strippers can there be in Portland?

Now, generally, this makes me sad. As any long-time reader will know, Daisy is a bit of a mythical goddess around these parts, the pre-beatified post-thalidomide patron saint of the lounge, as it were.

It is my dream, one day, to wander the halls of the courthouse with a slutty-Santa-suited Daisy in tow, handing tinsel hats out to all of the whining plaintiffs...

But I, again, digress...

"So, what's the problem?" you may ask. "At least she's working isn't she?"

Well, yes, but she's working at DINO'S!!
Here, this what the Portland Mercury had to say recently about the place:

"I've got two things on tap, Bud and water, so which is it going to be," growled Theresa, the barkeep who looks like "mamma" from "Throw Mamma from the Train." Dino's Inn is the nadir of dive bars. Not only does the bartender look frightening with her beard and mustache, but the two-a-night dancers on the foosball table-sized stage might also scare the bejesus out of you. A recent night included a one-eyed, mid-40's woman who stripped down to nothing but her eye patch, and an overweight beast with baloney nipples. Pool is 25¢, but the cue stick will inevitably hit a wall or a video poker patron while you try to play. RV

Sadly, it's all true. I know. I've been there.

Well, Tom and I have been there.

I admit that I've been to some rather sketchy, sticky and/or stinky establishments in at least five states, but nothing, NOTHING, compares to the unholy display of wretched despair found inside of Dino's.

Late, on one of our epic nights of debauchery, Tom and I wandered willingly through the chipped red door, which was swollen with rot. The jabba-like Theresa, mentioned above, was likely the same hairy lady we found behind the bar.

Now the rule was, to claim to have visited, we had to sit, tip and drink one beer; which we managed to do despite adverse conditions on more than one occasion.

But this... This!

Before our gaze was met, and we were turned to stone by the bar-wench Medusa, we averted out collective sight and spun toward the ramshackle stage behind us, where, for all I could tell, a fat 75-year-old man was taking his clothes off.

Our spin continued until we had turned 180 degrees. In one fluid synchronous spiral, Tom and I retreated with haste, and have yet never returned...

Which brings us to today.

It was lunchtime, and I had to get across town to drop my video camera off for some repair. Thee most direct route carried me over the Hawthorne bridge, toward the fashionable edge of Southeast Portland. As I passed familiar landmarks, I noted that Dino's was coming up ahead, and thoughts of Daisy flashed before me. I was sad that she had been rejected by the fancier clubs, and forced to work in the horrid dive like that..

But as I drew closer, I noticed something intriguing. The building had new paint. The old jutting sign was gone. There was a temporary banner hanging from the wall!

Dino's is gone! Gone to hell. Gone for good. The new club is called theHawthornee Strip, and I can only hope that the old staff has been replaced. So, now the quandary begins.

You know what I'm thinking... So, who's in?

9 comments:

  1. I actually voluntarily went back to flight 99 a couple of times... Pregnant strippers and transvestite hookers at the bar can't scare me away...

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  2. Anonymous9:19 AM

    I'm in if you can wait until next week. But, if you can't, I understand. I know the pull of a new strip club is strong and the added temptation of Daisy might be too much for you to resist.

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  3. I can't get the phrase baloney nipples out of my mind. Although I suppose baloney nipples have to be better than salami or head cheese nipples.

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  4. I agree with Allie. I am struggling with descriptive term "baloney nipples." I'm not sure I know what a "baloney nipple" looks like.

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  5. Anonymous12:06 PM

    I liked Dino's. It made me laugh that they danced to a juke box, so the girls appreciated it when you gave them quarters... It felt like Canada! And they weren't all old and sketchy. Some were young and hopped up on pharmaceutical cocktails that made them act really crazy. It made you think they might jump up on those ginoromous tables and grind their tatas in your face and then jump down and give the old man at the end of the bar a free lap dance. Good times!

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  6. Anonymous8:20 AM

    Im starting a new band....Baloney nipples.

    Maybe Britney Spears would be willing to sing, Family train plays bass and Tom can be a go go dancer.

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  7. Pregnant strippers and transvestite hookers at the bar can't scare me away...

    Didn't scare Mrs. G&T away either, apparently. It should have... but didn't.

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  8. Anonymous8:52 PM

    I am fairly certain that when we left Dinos that fateful night we agreed that the dancer was perhaps Abe Vigoda in drag. It's a sin we didn't stay. If Daisy is in fact dancing there, Dino's is the first place we go to the next time I am in town.

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  9. Sounds like a group outing.

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Be compelling.

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