Sunday, 30 November 1997 – Holman’s, Portland, OR

Sunday Project

Special drinks: Peaches and Cream—undrinkable—Absolute or Stoli Martini—stupid. There were classic drinks, like the Martini, and Manhattan, and Jack Rose, and Side Car. Those are good, enduring names. Turning point in drink names: Bloody Mary, which has achieved a genuineness that makes it okay. Harvey Wallbanger—a real turning point, that in itself is dated enough to be interesting and amusing. But newer ones like Kamikaze—bad, but not as bad as these new (to me) ones on the “Specials” wall—the “Dirty Mother,” which, I don’t know, considering it’s short for “Dirty Motherfucker,” kind of warms my heart. But then, the “Panty Dropper”—no way you look at that as a good drink name.

I order the “Special Steak” again—which at $4.95 is the same price as sausage, cheaper than pork chops, and half as much as T-bone, filet, or NY steak. $2 cheaper than chicken fried streak. It’s not that this is the cheapest place in town—it’s average—but this special steak is a real bargain. How can it be so cheap? Why is it so special? One wonders if the meat involved is of dubious origin. But we won’t consider that, OK? In fact, it’s very good. And if it does happen to turn out to be a human cut or something, it’s a very good cut, and I couldn’t exactly say I’m resorting to cannibalism—I would have to consider it a choice. Once again, I hold on to my membership of the CPC (Clean Plate Club).

The Chocolate Martini is the stupidest idea for a drink I’ve ever heard—hopefully they don’t serve them here. No matter how idiotic any prepared formulation of liquor and sugar and flavor—I mean, factory made and bottled, just so it’s 42 proof and up, I could enjoy it. Most of the choices in front of me, here at the bar, look delightful. Were I to be drinking, and owned any of these bottles at home, I would finish it off in no time—and it wouldn’t be an ordeal. It would be better if I sat somewhere else, not at the bar, so I might think about people more than liquor. The guys next to me have drinks—one of them looks like cranberry juice and vodka—a healthy choice for 10 AM. The other guy has a little snifter of what is likely some brandy-like thing, plus his coffee. Also, reasonable. Down the bar a guy is drinking Wild Turkey and ice, along with Coke and ice—decidedly unhealthy. I didn’t go home and read my Bible last time I was here. I probably won’t today. But now I’m thinking about becoming a Buddhist, anyway, because I know, seriously, I’ll never be able to resolve the elements of Jehovah’s Witnesses or all Christianity that I don’t agree with. I’d like to study all religions, but not just the elements that have oppressed people forever, which is interesting, but too depressing and obvious. I want to find out about things I’ve never heard about before.