I'm with Sam

Today is election day in Oregon! Here in Portland, we have a mayoral election. There are two front runners- Sho Dozono and Sam Adams. Sho Dozono is a small business owner with no previous political experience and head of the Portland Business Alliance. The PBA is an organization I don't like very much because they are one of the main backers of the Sit/Lie Ordinance- a law that makes it illegal to sit or lie on downtown sidewalks. Because, you know, people coming in from the suburbs and tourists are so scared of the homeless that they don't want to go shopping anymore! So let's just make it illegal to sit on the street and then, you know, no one will be homeless anymore. That's how it works, right?

Anyway, Sam Adams, on the other hand, is quite the wonk. I'm not saying he's perfect, but he's certainly one of the most likeable politicians I've ever met. He's currently City Commissioner, he loves bikes and he's gay. And he's a silver fox! Check him out on a mini bike...


Last weekend there was a Mayoral Candidate Donut Eating Contest at world famous Voodoo Doughnuts. The referee was our current mediocor mayor, Tom Potter. A big group of pedicabbers showed up to watch the mayhem, although it was so crowded I couldn't really see anything. Everyone got two doughnuts, expect for Dozono who was given an empty box (HA!). The winner was the young Craig Gier, who I've never heard of and seems to have no real campaign. After the candidates had finished and started to walk away, I ran into the street with my pedicab and shouted at Sam Adams "Sam Adams, let me give you a pedicab ride!!"
"Well, I don't have any cash," he said.
"I don't care, I'll give you a free one! I just want to give Portland's next mayor a pedicab ride."
He laughed and got in and asked me to wait for his boyfriend. And let me just say, what a cute pair they are.
The day before this, Dozono and Adams had held a debate on the local NPR call in show, Think Out Loud. I called in to ask about affordable housing and what the candidates would do. Unfortunately, my nanny boss walked in just as they put me on air, so I got really nervous and just asked the question and hung up. Both Adams and Dozono talked about creating affordable housing for families in Portland. While I obviously think this is important, I'm kind of annoyed by the idea that only families deserve affordable housing- everyone deserves affordable housing. I'm young and fairly low income, and I'm lucky enough that my landlords have only raised my rent once, by $50 total for our 4 bedroom house. So while I had Sam Adams in my pedicab, I took the chance to ask him about it.
"I called Think Out Loud yesterday when you were on," I said "and asked about affordable housing. But all you talked about was affordable housing for families! What about affordable housing for poor 26-year-olds like me?"
"Ohhh," he said "I don't really remember what I said. But I'll help with affordable housing for everyone! For families and poor single 26-year-olds!"
Well, it wasn't a very substantial answer, but it was 1am and he'd just gorged on donuts, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.
I did take a cute picture of him and his boyfriend in the back of my cab with my cell phone, but unfortunately the next night my phone fell out of my pocket and got run over. So you'll just have to imagine it.

to octopus!

So last night I got propositioned for prostitution for the first time.

It was a slow Wednesday night, about midnight, with a minimal number of people out on the streets. I'd already made rent plus about $30, so I decided that if I got one more ride I would turn in.

I was looking pretty cute, but not my usual babe-a-licious pedicab outfit... I almost always wear mini skirts because, well, passengers like looking at my butt, and it probably makes me a little more money. But last night I was wearing a knee length gingham dress from the 50's with white motorcycle boots- I almost looked like I was going to a hoe down.

A group of loud men was standing on a corner near the Embassy Suites, and one of them flags me down. I stop and ask him if he wants a ride. He runs up, and standing a little too close in says "How much to octopus!?" in broken English. I'm certain he's talking about the Greek Cuisina (see above picture), a popular and extraordinarily trashy downtown club (possibly surpassed only by Dirty).

"You mean Greek Cuisina? Uh, five dollars."
"Alright!" he shouts and climbs in. As we start to round the corner he keeps hitting my back and saying "You come to Octopus with me! You come dance with me!"
I laugh nervously. "No, I've got to keep working."
"I pay you all night! I pay you all night! How much? You come dance, you spend night with me! You sleep in the bed with me."
"Uh, no, sorry, I really have to keep working."
"You be in the bed with me! You want, you just sleep. I pay you all night!"
"Sorry, I don't do that."
"Please!"
"No, I don't do that."

He continued to shout and started babbling in his native tongue, so I have no idea what he was saying.

It's rides like this that always feel like they're lasting way too long, even when it's only a few blocks. I saw my friend Tomas ride by with some customers and shouted his name, because I was getting to the point where I was worried that I might need back up to get this guy to leave me alone. When we arrived at the Greek, it appeared to be closed and he stumbled out of me cab.

"Octopus closed!?"

I offered to take him to another club, but he wasn't interested. He continued to babble, semi-incoherently, trying to get me to go with him. I continued to tell him I didn't do that and he pulled out a wad of cashe- not a ton, maybe $100. "How much?"

I was a little too generous. I told him tips and he gave me $10. I think he was trying to show me how much money I would get if I spent the night with him. I really think I could have gotten $20 out of him, but whatever, I was pretty happy to get away from him at that point.

butter them thighs

This will perhaps come as no surprise, but the thing I cannot stop hearing about when I pedicab is my ass. It is, indeed, a hard working ass. It can haul several hundred pounds through the streets of Portland, after all. And if you are sitting in the back of my pedicab, it's right up in your face.

Although I had low self esteem for much of my life, and spent many years feeling bad about my body, I somehow never felt bad about my ass. But the reactions I get to it today- well, I never would have expected them! Maybe if I'd been a pedicab driver in high school my head would have exploded by now from having my ego constantly stroked, and I wouldn't have needed years of therapy to realized I'm not fat and unattractive. Who knows.

Last weekend I picked up a nice man that was going to C.C. Slaughter's, one of Portland's many downtown gay bars. It was only about 6 blocks from where I picked him up. "It's bear night!" he said "I'm really excited to meet some big, hairy guys." I laughed and congratulated him.

As we stopped at a light, a van full of downtown nightlife douche bags pulled up next to us. Perhaps you know the type- they are practically interchangeable with one another. They are white, and they all wear untucked, white button down shirts with jeans, axe body spray, and lots of hair gel. One of them pulls the side door of the van opening and shouts excitedly at my passenger.

"DAMMMMMMMNNN, man, you've got the best fuckin' view! Look at that ass!" And he continued to shout about my ass for two solid minutes. The best part was when he shouted "I would just butter them thighs!" When the light changed and the van pulled away, I half heartedly shouted thanks at them. I wasn't exactly offended, but what do you say to such an enthusiastic, yet uninvited, reaction one's ass?

My passenger, who being gay I knew was not very interested in my ass, shrugged and said "Eh, wrong gender. But, uh, I guess you have a pretty nice butt." I just laughed.

Drunk Russians tip very well, apparently

I drift past another spot that's good for ride, McFadden's. I have never been in any of the nightclubs or bars where I usually pick up rides, and I know I never need to. I don't really like bars, and everyone is wasted and looking to hook up. Not my scene.
I stop in front and two drunk Russian men about my age run up to me. "Oh my god! Oh my god, this is so cool!" they shout.
"Would you like a ride?" I ask.
"How much to go around the block?"
"Five bucks?" I respond. They shout joyfully and jump in. As we round the corner, they cannot contain their excitement.
"Holy shit, this is the coolest thing ever! Holy crap! Do you want a drink?!" I look back at them and one is pointing his half full pint glass toward me. How the hell did they even get it out of the bar?
"Uh, no, thanks, I can't drink while I work."
"Fuck, this is the most incredible thing! We pay you double! We pay you twenty dollars!" I laugh and tell them, that for that, I'll take them around an extra block.
"Holy shit, we pay you triple!" They shout. I wonder if they mean it.
We finish riding around the block and they stumble out, giddy and cracking up. "How much do I owe you?" one asks.
"Well," I say "at one point you said you'd give me twenty bucks."
"Here you go!" he says, shoving a twenty into my hand "and here's a little extra!" He hands me a small wad of ones.
Behind me, another peddicabber from the other company, Leonard, pulls up. One of the men points at him excitedly. "Now we get in his cab! How much to go around the block three times!?"
"Uh, a hundred dollars," Leonard replies with an unenthusiastic shrug.
"Ok, we do it!" the men shout and clamor into the competition's bright orange cab.
"What!?" I shout, half joking "you're gonna pay him a hundred bucks!? No, get back in my cab!" But they've already pulled away.
I learn later that night that Leonard wasn't counting his money, but he was pretty sure the drunk Russians had payed him at least $200 to shuttle them around for an hour.

Use a condom

As I cruised down 3rd Ave past Greek Cuisina, one of Portland's trashier clubs, I see a thin, blonde girl waving me down. She looks like your average downtown Portland clubber, and she's very drunk.
"Take me to Dirty," she slurs "and if my lesbian girlfriend tries to stop you, just keep going."
I laugh weakly "ok.." Suddenly, her friend, a brunette, comes running across the street.
"Laura!" she screams "get the fuck out of that cab or I'm never fucking talking to you again!"
"Yeah, right," Laura says.
"I mean it!" The brunette continues to scream. I'm not really sure what to do, so I just sit in front, half facing them and not moving.
Laura touches my back and says "pedal, pedal," but her friend is still screaming so I don't move at all.
"I'll never take any of your phone calls, I'll never answer your e-mails, nothing! We're going home, Laura!"
"I want to go the next club!" Laura screams back at her.
They continue for a couple more minutes while I try to decide what to do. Finally, after Laura feeblely tells me to pedal again, I start moving. Her friend backs away with a look of extreme anger and anguish.
"Oh, fucking fine, that's how it's going to be! Fine!" she shouts as we ride away.
Laura slumps back in the seat as we move toward the club. "I'm in AA," she tells me. "I'm an alcoholic and I'm waaaaasted."
"Oh..." I say with a nervous laugh. I suddenly feel like I know exactly why her friend was so upset, and exactly why her friend will forgive her next week. She's probably done this a hundred times, probably tried so hard to stop, but she just can't. "Uh, are you and your friend okay?"
"She's in lesbian love with me. She calls me every morning. She's obsessed with me. And I'm in love with this guy! I don't fucking care anymore. I don't fucking care."
"Is she your best friend?" I ask.
She sighs loudly. "Yeah," she says "yeah."
"You should try and make up with her," I tell her gently.
"You're right." We round the corner onto the block that Dirty Nightclub is on. She's on her cell phone with the man she's meeting and tells him she'll be there in a second. She snaps it shut and continues complaining about her friend. "She's sleeping with a married man, too. It's so fucked! I'm not fucking doing that."
We arrive at the club and she stumbles towards the man she was coming to see, who is clearly as drunk as she is. I ask her for ten bucks, and she hands me five before telling the man to give me some more. He protests that he never carries cash and I wave her off. "It's ok," I say and start riding away. As I turn the corner I shout "stay safe! Use a condom!"

the beginning

It started on a lark, really. My best friend came to visit Portland for a few weeks, and we were downtown, wandering around the First Thursday gallery openings. She's been a pedicab driver in Chicago for several years, and she's pretty much addicted to it. We saw a pedicab cruise by and she chased it down, and started chatting with the driver. By the next afternoon, we were on our way downtown so she could do a test ride with Portland's new pedicab company. On the phone, she mentioned that she had a friend with her, and the owner replied "well, she can come, too!"

A few hours later, that very evening, I found myself careening a tricycle through the streets of downtown Portland. At first I thought I'd just do it occasionally to make extra money and keep my legs strong, but within 2 weeks I'd given my notice at my old job. The future looks bright.