by Sean Coker for pdxguide.com
January 2008

There are a lot of things that can be done with twelve dollars: purchase Millwood Stain, a medley of sandpapers and a foam chip brush; reduce your Multnomah County library fees; or obtain essential groceries - but can twelve dollars buy an entire day of entertainment?

While this adventure is low on dough, it is high on subjectivity. What began as a way to spend time downtown quickly descended into photographing homelessness, watching street kids smoking dope out of a pop can and stumbling around at midnight eating a donut and text messaging. Cheapness, gluttony, abuse of strong drink and insincerity; in this instance, twelve dollars is a pass code for trouble. It starts in southeast at the closest thing to an actual Craiglist, at a place known as “The Bins.”

The Bins is where objects go when then cannot be sold at Goodwill stores. They are brought to 1740 SE Ochoco to be sold by the pound. Here the poorest of the poor fight over crumbs and used sleeping bags for $1.79 a pound. There is everything you could ever want or need but it’s going to take some rummaging to find. A t-shirt and ill-fitting plaid pants can be had here for $2.

From there, the adventure heads north to the SE waterfront path and later crosses the Hawthorne Bridge. I ride north to Metro Pizza, 222 SW Washington Street, where slices sell for $1 after 3pm. I order a Hawaiian slice and chicken slice ($2) and read a two-week-old copy of Newsweek. The slices are small and the crust was doughy but at that price point it is hard to complain. The dining area is empty of people and the desire to linger is not felt.

Walking west against the grain of traffic, I arrive at the downtown Stumptown, 128 SW Third Avenue, for an americano ($2). The woman working the counter is having a tough day so a haiku poem that was written the other day is recited :

As I walk towards an
Intersection, a man ran
A stop sign on foot

She smiles and laughs and claps before handing over the beverage. Heading south and west towards the park blocks a man is wearing a headdress and a woman’s dress. He twirls around chanting, "I got the fever.” There is something admirable about his brazen indifference to what others think of him. He danced like a man possessed without a care in the world. Too odd to be ignored and too crazy to be followed; his large eyes were sampling the salad bar of life. I continue on. A few blocks away is the First Congregational Church, 1126 SW Park Avenue.

Walking inside (free) and upstairs, wooden railings traipse along the stairs' edge until dead-ending at the back of a terrace overlooking the pulpit. Seasoned wood arches round the perimeter while stain glass windows dye sunlight in a kaleidoscope of colors. Walking east is the Portlandia statue, 1120 SW 5th.

A friend text messages that he is downtown skateboarding near Powell’s, 1005 W. Burnside. He is skating a crumbling ledge illuminated by a bicycle light. Starting across the street, he pushes with long, lengthy strides before slasher-grinding the ledge’s top.

A celebratory beer is in order and the Low Brow Lounge, 1036 NW Hoyt, is the chosen spot. A round of High Lifes ($1.50 each plus a dollar tip=$4) are sipped. Under soft lights across the bar is a velvet painting of Beck. Smoke lingers and patrons talk over one another, jostling for auditory pole position. A partition made of Jagermeister bottles separates the bar from a walkway.

Upon finishing our beers, the time seems right for Voodoo Doughnuts, 22 SW Third Avenue. This 24-hour doughnut shop is the place to been seen and eat cereal covered doughnuts at midnight. A No Name ($1.25) is a chocolate and peanut butter concoction that pares well with a coffee (.75). Remember to bring cash, as Voodoo does not take cards.

I walk slowly, texting and enjoying the cold, deserted streets as condensation unfurls from my lips. I only regret making that partial payment towards library fees; otherwise I could call a taxi.

Maybe twelve dollars isn’t enough.

The opinions expressed within are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of pdxguide.com or The Columbian Publishing Co.