A Showery Sunday Morning in Portland: Breakfast at Bingo Masters/Radio Room

Blower. Kay. "Saaay, it's il compleanno di T. Anthony Kavanaugh, you know, son anniversaire [Kay knew me and Dolly-girl had been hanging with the Frenchies, so she broke into it instead of just the Italiano] so we was thinking of heading to the Radio Room. You know they got that Bingo Masters Cafe we are wanting to try. You guys game?" "Shoot us and see. Hey, Dolly-girl, we got anything on for birdseed Sunday in the A-M? Kay's on the line with a light bulb going off. No? We're on. See you there." "Ciao."



The weather had been doing this and that--this is rain and that is sun--like it does this time of year in Stumptown. At the last minute we decided to leave the roadster parked and save the fossils. We took shank's mare. When we strolled up I could see right off that what we'd banked for another day, they burned in an outside gas fire which there wasn't anyone actually enjoying since it was back to this instead of that. Turn's out that was absolutely the only thing about the joint that wasn't hitting the spot perfectly for me.



I walked in and knew I was in the right place until Dolly-girl pointed out that the Lucky machine didn't have Luckies. It was an Art-o-Mat. Missy welcomed us in the door, waved her hand around an almost-empty joint--turns out it was early for the Radio Room crowd) and said "Park it where you please, ladies and gents. Welcome to Bingo Masters. I'll be with you in no time." We parked in a booth near the front window where we could look out at the this which by now had turned into that. She came back with the Bull Run and three pairs of dark glasses. "I get 'em out of our I-wonder-where-I-left-my-stuff box. They come in handy for this and that." She spoke my tongue. "Who's for a cuppa?" She spoke it again. "By the way, beau chapeau; c'est très joli!" She was headed for a great tip...




The joe made its way from the hash shop double quick and we settled down to have a gander at the whaddaya-want. Turns out with the size of it, it took a lot of gandering. Missy came back with her book. "Questions about the menu?" I passed instead of my usual "Is it printed on recycled paper" 'cause I figured it'd get me a shot through the wave and a "Oh, mon Dieu, donnez-moi une pause" from Missy, who it turns out really could speak French and she could even speak our talk with a Frenchie accent. Must be because she was from Philadelphia or someplace near it she told us but I forgot. Jersey maybe. She gave us a couple more minutes.



A couple things caught my eye right off. One was a whaddaya-drinking laying on the table. I picked it up, avoided looking at Dolly-girl who was warming up a wave shot. The other thing was the wall hangings and light fixtures. Obviously, whoever replaced the Luckies with the Art-o-Mat hadn't stopped there. They had a lot of my sorta stuff hanging around.




Missy came back and without looking right, I told her "Radio Mary." "Good choice. Anybody else?" She tapped her book with a pencil. The rest went for the dry-side fruit juices. They'd be sorry.

We turned our feedbag what-we-wants in and she took off to the back to have a chat with the hash slinger. "Eggs, beans, and grits times two. Make one with one on the run and one sittin' still. Keep the other one lookin' at me. Then give me a playwright, scramble the plot, and a Benedict Washington." "On it."





Missy kept our cups full while we were waiting, which wasn't long. My cackleberries, yellow grits, and beans were just what me and Kay ordered, times two. Dolly-girl got her Playwright's Hangover, henfruit revolvos on a bed of veggies and toast. The Birthday Boy went for the North West Eggs Benedict and they looked just like what it would take to turn traitor! I thought the Radio Mary was a tasty way to get your anti-oxidants and the other three agreed.










We finished up and sat slurpin' joe until this turned into that again. I'll tell you, it was just about as good a way to start the day as you can find in Stumptown. The feedbags were all we wanted and more. Missy? Service exceptionnel! And by now, the joint was filling up. The Radio Room caters to a late night crowd and they don't show up early the next day! Now, just put that fire out...