No matter what part of the city your in, Portland Oregon is a unique place. Within the two weeks I was there I drank porter with the local intelligentsia while playing Pokémon go. I played a race to three (in billiards a race to three simply means the goal is to be the first to win three games) with an elderly pool shark who had Alzheimer’s. Evidently playing pool was all he could remember how to do. And lastly i was informed, by my co-workers, that the best place to get lunch was Diablo’s Hide Away, a gentleman’s club that kind of resembled the titty twister from the movie, “From Dusk Till Dawn”. I never made it to Diablo’s Hide Away but upon further investigation, i discovered that they have a fucking Michelin Star. Like I said, Portland is weird. 

I was getting a bit of cabin fever in my hotel room one day so I decided to walk down the street to McDonald’s for dinner. I was talking to my wife, Rachel, and as I walked I was noticing these small buildings. Three in a row, in fact. They couldn’t have been more than one hundred square feet each. All three building were sporting the same look, old peeling paint and neon signs in the front that read, Live Nude and Dancers. I’m explaining this to Rachel while continuing to McDonalds and wondering out loud, what kind of strip club can these little huts have inside of them. I mean, just from the size alone, I can only imagine that any dancer would be crammed in a corner, doing little more than vibrating in front of maybe two people seated in metal folding chairs while someone else is selling can beer out of an ice chest in the adjacent corner. I tell rachel, maybe that why there are three of them, because there’s only room to service two or three customers at a time. 

We both agree that we don’t know, and I continue my way to McDonald’s. Once I arrive I order a chicken nugget meal, with bbq sauce, medium fries and a Dr. Pepper, like a gentleman and proceed to head back to my hotel with my order. As im walking back im still talking to Rachel and Im still looking at these small buildings promoting live dancing, girls presumably, and I can’t handle not knowing, so I tell Rachel that I’m going to stick my head in, see what’s going on, grab a drink and call her back to let her know. 

I approach the door, still holding my chicken nuggets, and try to go in. The door is locked but there is a hand written sign above the video doorbell that reads,” ring the bell and a model will be with you shortly”. Well, ok, I think. So I ring the doorbell and with in about thirty seconds the door is answered by a large woman who introduces herself as Raven. Raven is my height, 5’7” and about twice a wide. (I’m not judging, just painting a picture. I don’t know if she wanted my money or my chicken nuggets) and she was in black lingerie, corset, stockings garderbelt the whole thing. She welcomes me warmly enough and leads me down a hallway into a small living room on the left side of the house. There are black lights where the crown molding would typically be and those colorful swirly lights you would buy from Spencer’s gifts, oh and by the way there’s no else there. 

Raven invites me to sit down on the couch 

Do you mind if I put chicken nuggets down here on the table?

No, she said that’s fine. Have you ever been here before baby.

No ma’am, I was walking by and saw the signs. The place looked a little small for a strip club so I was curious.

I understand said Raven. This is a private entertainment establishment. This weeks model is currently entertaining another client right now, and she gestured to a door in the corner that I hadn’t previously noticed. But they should be done soon. She handed me a magazine, explaining that these are all the girls that are scheduled to be here over the next few weeks. It’s one hundred fifty dollars for the first thirty minuets. And fifty dollars for every fifteen minuets after that. You can pick the music and she’ll dance. She’ll take off her clothes you can take off your clothes. You can dance together if you want to or even (insert suggestive fake cough)

At this moment I have multiple realizations. I am in a brothel, and I am not ready to be a brothel kind of guy. Also there is zero chance that the only people in this house are Raven, the other model, the other client and me. I’m imagining a huge guy with a shotgun is watching me from a camera somewhere making sure that no one messes with his girls. And I am instantly nervous and need to get out of here.

I say thank you for the hospitality Raven. But I was just curious to peak my head in. I’m not ready for all of this, I’m just going to grab my chicken McNuggets and go.

Really? She said skeptically. Well, let me walk you out. I didn’t realize that she had locked the door behind us when I walked in. So she had to open it to let me out. I thanked her again and walked off at a cool composed pace with my chicken McNuggets. I was looking over my shoulder every five or six steps expecting the big guy with the shotgun to come running from around the house.

Rachel answered her phone on the first ring. So, what was it, she asked.

It was a brothel, I met a model named Raven and evidently in Portland they can publicly promote these things.

Wait what do you mean a brothel.

I’m talkin bout a whorehouse baby, I accidentally wallked into a whore house. 

How much did it cost?

Surprisingly reasonable actually. One hundred fifty for the first thirty minutes and fifty dollars for every fifteen minuets after that. They probably would have let me eat my chicken nuggets while she danced.

Eww, I wouldn’t want whorehouse chicken nuggets.

No no, I brought them from McDonald’s. Remember?

You brought chicken nuggets to a whorehouse, that’s hilarious.

Well, I didn’t know it was a whorehouse when I went in.

Was the entertainer pretty?

Honestly I didn’t see her. She was finishing up with a another client. Look it’s been long day I’m going to let you go, I love you. Fucking Portland.

Fucking Portland.