Advice from a small town girl

I just returned from several days in Portland, where the weather was wonderful – two days of glorious fall sun and color, and two days of precious, beautiful rain.

I loved it.

It was interesting.

And you know they say that “may you live in interesting times” is an ancient Chinese curse.

Mind you, there is apparently no proof that the supposed curse originated in China.

I just can’t help wondering what the story is behind each and every vignette I observe when I’m out and about.

For instance, what was the real story behind the man taking a photo of a lovely, tiny Asian woman wearing shoes that included 6-inch spike heels and 2-inch platforms? They went well with the miniskirt and flawless makeup, but who the heck were they and what were they doing in my hotel?

I could guess, but I hope I’d be wrong.

Oh, my. My hotel.

It was spotlessly clean, but was definitely showing its age, with worn tile and carpet, scratched graffiti on the elevator doors and the overwhelming scent of “air freshener” (a misnomer if ever there was one.)

Why did the front desk personnel keep disappearing? It seemed as if every other time I entered the lobby, someone would ask if I worked there, because there was no one at the desk, and hadn’t been for quite some time.

While I was in my room (with all the locks locked), I couldn’t help wondering about the very large dark stain on the carpet between the beds. Eventually, I decided there must have been a murder there, just so I could stop wondering. More likely, it was someone’s Big Gulp, but it was kind of fun to speculate.

Then there were the people in the next room. I never heard a peep during daylight hours, but as soon as night fell, a baby started crying. And three nights in a row, an argument at 4 a.m. woke me from my much-needed sleep. It didn’t wake the baby, but it sure as heck woke me.

The second day I was there, I was concerned about the number of young people in baggy pants and hoodies who appeared to be loitering in the lobby and hallways, but the morning of the third day they loaded their luggage into two vans and went on their way. No idea who they were – there were no school logos, no signs on the vehicles, nothing to give me a clue.

I visited a couple of my favorite restaurants and had steak, salmon and razor clams, all cooked to perfection. And while I was dining there, I wondered if anyone was wondering about me. I didn’t spot any other middle-aged women dining alone. Mostly couples, families and small groups, but no other single women.

I guess we need to get out more.