by Shawn Petsche

Part 3 of his GP Portland tournament report detail the conclusion of Shawn Petsche's journey which included robbing a stripper.  Devoid of any strategic content, this final section is for those that want to read about them crazy stories that happen outside of the game.

"The photographer is an armed version of the solitary walker reconnoitering, stalking, cruising the urban inferno, the voyeuristic stroller who discovers the city as a landscape of voluptuous extremes."

We hit the hotel for a quick change with Robert Brews and Mat Mercier now in tow. Mat and I hit up the hotel bar while the rest of the crew went upstairs to shotgun the remaining PBRs.

It was nice to get a chance to talk to Mat a little bit, as our only real conversations to date had been over and about games of Magic, mainly regarding how I had missed, no exaggeration, a kazillion Steel Overseer counters in our GPT Toronto match. Instead, we talked a bit about…

Cocktails:

Business:

…and traveling.

I started to ramble about my theory that everyone in the world has at least one thing that they are really knowledgable and passionate about and that, more and more, I think the real key to discovering a city and striking up good conversations is engaging people along those lines. I mentioned the bartender, who was clearly very focused and passionate about his drink preparation, and started asking him questions about working there. He mentioned his preference for coming up with drink recipes – the Mr. Manhattan I had earlier was his concoction – over pouring an endless supply of Blood Marys. So I asked him if he had come up with anything new since the menu's printing and he happily obliged by making Mat the delicious drink above which I will embarassingly describe as eggy-fizzy-lemony booze.

He asked us what we were up to and when we replied "probably heading to the Doug Fir for drinks again" he seemed to take even more interest in our group. He gave us a few recommendations including the nearby strip club, Union Jack's, which I had been to once before.

A quick bite to eat at the Doug Fir…

…quickly turned into a few more drinks…including my double fisting of tequila and whiskey (I think I was referring to the drinks as Tango & Cash at some point).

We sat up at the bar and chatted with our new bartender about a few things, like if 5:20 counts as "around 5pm" when you're leaving on a 14 hour car ride. The bartender agreed and the waitress did not. Our bartender seemed to be having a lot of fun, clearly eavedropping on our conversations, and it was good to get everyone in a room and be able to just unwind, vent, congratulate and bond.

(Left to right: Jared Maguire, Paul MacKinnon, Mat Mercier, Jay "Boosh" Tuharsky)

By the time my final Doug Fir drink arrived, this was about the quality of my vision…

We walked off our drunkeness for about 40 minutes and finally ended up at Union Jack's. Before this trip started, I joked to everyone that I had only three goals for the trip: to "eat Voodoo Doughnuts, good Portland pizza and go see strippers." Here's the thing that I explained then: I, like probably everyone else in our crew (?), am not particularly into the idea of strip clubs. But I've been to a couple in Portland thanks to a friend of mine's travel guide skills, and had to admit that they were indeed a cut above. Portland holds both the title of the city with the greatest number of strip clubs per capita, and, evidently, of the city with the greatest musical taste among its strippers.

The night started as awkwardly as any strip club experience, with us just ordering a few drinks. But when a mohawk'd gal hit the stage to Turbonegro followed by Fugazi, well Ian, Kyle and I had to show our appreciation. I must've been fairly drunk because when she leaned over to grab my tip and say "this is going to hurt a bit," I honestly had no idea what she was referring to. As I got up, Jared yelled out "hey buddy, how drunk are ya'? Don't forget this!" signalling to a wad of cash which I had assumed to be about $10 that had fallen out of my pocket. Whoa, keep it together, I thought…

As the night rolled on, more drinks were had by the others and we all loosened up. Jared was doing his best Jeff Goldblum impersonation as he chatted up all of the ladies, impressed with their conversation about the societal causes and rehabilitation of child soldiers from the Ivory Coast (no word of a lie), Rob Brews cut himself off from the drink, and Kyle thanked us for taking him, fulfilling one of his girlfriend's demands for the trip (also, no word of a lie).

It's where the night ended that was most bizarre, however…

Mat Mercier waved his hand as he bought a lap dance for me in return for the drink I had bought him earlier. After a song, I was baited to the $200 VIP room…

Me: "Sorry, I'm not spending that much money…in fact, I don't have that much money."
Her: "Well, how about you just pay the standard $10 bartender tip and we call it even?"

I was perplexed, so I did the reasonable thing…I walked over to the bank machine and paid up my $10 which came with a complimentary drink, thinking that Mat was either a madman for picking up the tab on this, or that I would have an amazing story to tell about a stripper trying to tease money out of me that I literally did not have. Anywho, as you might've guessed, we chatted about all kinds of things, from the upsides of living in Canada to whether or not 5:20 counts as "around 5:00" (she agreed that it does) as she danced…I liked it better when I could hear the music, to be honest. About 20 minutes in, I asked her how long we'd been and if the bar was closing up. She seemed to take that as a challenge to keep my interest. As much as I felt bad for the rest of the Magic crew just outside, I was also just still confused with how far $10 was going.

The night ended with a knock from the bartender. The gal took my e-mail down (?) and I said that it was nice meeting her – no hassles for more cash. When I walked outside I was met with the classic slow clap, as the rest of the guys assumed that I had been just throwing $20 bills around like it was going out of style…but after a bit of conferring with Mat, it turns out that the 40 minute dance really was $10. I let them know that they were imagining money being thrown around that I just didn't have.

Jared eventually called BS on me: "what about the $120 you dropped?"
It was still in my back pocket, and only then did I realize that the wad of bills which I had drunkenly assumed to be $10 in change, was actually a roll of $20s.
Me: "Uh, dude, I don't think this is actually my money…"

We quickly re-traced our steps and realized that the wad was actually either a stripper's earnings or an even-more-drunk-than-I patron's (I guess that's more likely). This brought up even more questions:
– Whose money was this and how did they not notice it missing?
– If it was the stripper's, did I get a long dance because she suspected me of having roughly $120 more than I thought I had and assumed I'd tip her well?
– If it was a patron's, was I going to get beat up by the same-suit-wearing muscle-men that were sitting down before us at the stage?
– What did all of this mean and should it be me or Jared who feels guilty about having essentially stolen $120?

We chalked it up to a misunderstanding on the car ride home until the guilt eventually subsided, but I guess I'm getting ahead of myself…

First, we sat down to have breakfast next to Chapin and Ochoa (that's for Jay "Barn" Tuharsky) and were served breakfast by a cross-eyed waitress named Island Hunter who was particularly interested in my iPhone.

(Kyle Weevers and Island Hunter)

We finally checked out at noon and hit the road. Paul, Jared and Ian hit up IHOP while I walked an extra block for some authentic Mexican food (14+ hour car ride + Mexican food = a good idea).

I had three tacos: chicken, braised pork and spicy pork along with a Mexican Coke – pure cane sugar for me, none of this corn industry conspiracy shit.

(Ian "The Doctor" Baker, Jared Maguire)

The trip started off well with a stop for gas leading to the cheapest food mart I've ever been to. Below? $4.00. The Booster Juice was $0.25/bottle. That jug of water was $0.89. Booya.

We were excited to have hit the road 5 1/2 hours before we left on our way out, knowing that we weren't going to be pulling quite the same all-nighter. But it got dark fairly early and Jared fell alseep at the wheel (or is that just his cruise control posture?).

(Jared Maguire)

Another stop for gas and I couldn't resist ordering a "World Famous Viking Burger." It was actually good, despite coming with a bag of chips that literally contained 11 chips. The waitress had a familiar voice and look, and the exact same neck tattoo that the stripper the night before was sporting. I figured that, with the previous night ending in mystery, it was better not to ask if they were related.

We hit Spokane for a late dinner and on Jared's request, stopped for Italian food. In true Broken City Magic road trip tradition, we ordered far too much…

Calimari:

Antipasti Platter:

Vanilla cream sodas and root beers:

Salads:

…and mains. I ordered the "World Famous Smoked Salmon Lasagne" which was delicious and about four times richer than a 4 liter bottle of melted cheese. Not a smart idea for the drive home.

As we crossed the border, we started to go a bit stir crazy, joking about declaring the $120 we had apparently stolen from a stripper and/or strip club patron. Jared's will to live had slowly eroded with each passing mile until he stopped at this Missing Children's board and flat out declared: "Listen. These people? All of these people? They're dead." The last four hours of the drive were essentially a continuous stand-up comedy routine that I wish I had been recording.

(Jared Maguire)

Somehow we ended up arriving home at 8:45am. Blah blah blah, there's the hour time difference, we stopped for a long dinner and we were driving through the goddamn mist from that Frank Darabont movie about Lovecraftian creatures that come out of the mist. I wish I remember what that movie was called…

But still, it's fucked how long the car ride took. At one point we saw a sign for Calgary saying it was 56km away, and then 20 minutes down the road later, saw another that said "Calgary 64km." Again, we left at noon in Portland and I arrived home at 8:45am in Calgary…

…to an e-mail from the stripper:

"U have adorable eyes 😉 "

Before that, as I left the car and the folks I'd just spent five days and far too many hours in a car with, I waved to everyone and said:
"Well folks, that was lovely."
Jared replied, as everyone else continued to sleep…
"Is that all you've got? Is that all you've fucking got?!"

"…yes."
Yes, that is indeed all that I've got.
It was lovely.

Shawn Petsche

This article was originally published over at the Broken City School of Magic.

Kar Yung Tom

Kar Yung Tom (KYT) is the Digital Content Manager for Face to Face Games. He oversees the F2FTour.com and Magic F2F websites. He is also the lead host of the First Strike podcast.