crack-o-my-ass

When I first got a job in Portland, I was sent to work in Beaverton, a suburb. Then I was moved to Clackamas, a suburb. I didn’t think anything was really wrong with this because I hadn’t had a chance to work in the city. However, after about seven months, I was moved to a store in inner NE Portland. The difference was glaring and I absolutely loved it.

I feel like a snob when I verbally attack the suburbs but they are so damn generic, it’s hard NOT to attack them (verbally). Take the place we went out to eat at today in Crack-o-my-ass (Clackamas) which was Chevys. As a Christmas bonus thing from my department, I was given a gift card to Chevys last year. Chevys sits predictably nestled between a Red Robin and a Target. The place had that ‘fifteen pieces of flair’ feel to it. Our server seemed genuinely nice and probably gave some of the best customer service that I have received in a long time but the whole feel of the place felt wrong and I felt like Stepford Wives were going to kick us out at any minute. They did have good drinks though (see above).