Quote:
Originally Posted by Bill Harsey
At one time the waterfront was filled with those said loggers and sailors as well as shipyard workers, blacksmiths, welders, cowboys and anyone else who had done some work and needed a drink. Some of those Portland bars were a lot of fun with the trapdoors and tunnels for the act of shanghaiing some poor guy who was broke and let a stranger buy him a drink. I lost a great great uncle to that stuff. There was a logging bar downstairs of a hotel that took up a whole city block with a couple dozen bartenders on duty for quitting time. Since it was downstairs it was called an "otter slide" for the speed at which the guys went down the stairs to get a drink.
My guess is our boy did not come from that culture.
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Uh no. It sounds like Boyfriend Timothy would not even be a worthy chew toy for you loggers, and would be quickly pushed through the trap door, never to be seen again.
Oh, I am wistful for the good ole days....when Timothys did not make the evening news or get their day in court.........