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| The Portal (checkout) |
No sooner had she stepped from her oncologist's office than yerz trooly was presented with the idea of a pilgrimage to VooDoo Doughnuts. It seems the oncologist had heard of the famed outfit and regaled The Donut Queen with lurid tales.
I was on the East side of Idaho, but, as luck would have it, headed for the
Fishtrap Writers' Conference at Wallowa Lake. So it was a simple matter to extend the destination to Eugene. Besides, as I fortuitously was informed in Lostine (Oregon), Eugene has a reputation for nudity....in public.
Attempting to maintain my normally stately pace of about 12.2857 miles per day, I took about two weeks to cover the 300 miles, This average about 21+ miles-per-day. A bit high, but I was eager.
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| The Lobby |
As I came in for the final approach a beside-the-highway-boat-launch served as a pre-town bathing spot. Time having had its way with my bod I took pity on passing motorists and donned swim toggs. I felt as if I was letting all the Eugene nudists down, but consoled myself with the idea that they might appreciate my not impuning their tourism value.
As with cornstarch, the traffic began to thicken. I latched onto a passing whi-fee (u say why-phye, I say whih-phi) and confirmed directional intuitions. A straight shot!!
At the store I sidled up to a group on the stoop (photo at bottom). She wasn't impressed. By way of offering hope, I mentioned Irish Maid in Fort Smith. (Like Nurnberg, there's only one.)
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| The Head |
$27.00 plus tip lighter, I staggered into the street. I fell into a chair to savor the multi-sensational buying event....and the doughnuts.
A man asked if I was a comedian -- he was waiting for one. He explained that he'd been trying to raise him on his cell, but it wasn't working. He disappeared, watching the screen as he faded.
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| Lobby Coffee Table |
A delegation from a gaggle of youngsters on an opposite corner approached. Colin, who was attending Leftie (in his wheelchair), introduced himself. He'd done four years in the Marines and looked old enough to have finished high school,....maybe. He rattled off a list of duty stations, all state-side. I expressed my sympathies, but had to wonder if it explained his long hair (Do you use Purex?), intelligent countenance and articulate and quiet delivery. Leftie, whose right sleeve looked empty, received his cup o' joe from another member of the group with an eager eye, but was told he'd have to find his own cream.
I offered. He accepted. I figured I'd save myself the discomfort of watching him navigate the door and crowds in his wheelchair. His compadres waited across the street.
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| (Somewhat) Satisfied Shopper |
I strolled the streets keeping a hopeful eye out for the famous nudity. Most of the stores were closed and all I saw was the back of a tall, red-haired transvestite (How could you TELL?) in short shorts who was tending a record store and boredly turned back into the dark. Nothing....In the Nood.
The packaging and mailing was a disaster. Next time I'll use styrofoam and dry ice. But as far as VooDoo goes, it's all about the visuals. The flavors are average store-bought. As the woman at the table said, "Maybe the one in Portland is better."
