So I went to Yoko's tonight. Once in a while I like to splurge on sushi, which is stupid since it's 4 days before Christmas and I still haven't bought any presents. Selfish fuck, I am. So Yoko's was packed as fuck and as I waited in line I unwillingly learned the soap opera that surrounds the best Albacore in town. Apparently, Yoko and her American husband started the company a blah blah time ago and needed to hire an additional sushi master to accomodate the demand. As they became more and more successful, Yoko ended up having an affair with the new chef which forced Mr. Yoko to say "fuck this" and move to Bend to open up his own Sushi bar. I don't know how I got suckered into listening to the tale of Yoko. Who knows if it is even true, but the sushi is fucking phenomenal.

However, the wait was astronomical and I didn't want to wait outside in the cold so we popped into the C- bar to get a drinky drink while we waited for our table. Like the Delta Cafe, the C bar acts like a waiting room to its adjacent parasite. Why oh why do bars like this exist in Portland. It's fucking rediculous. We are not New York! We are not LA LA Land. We are portland. We like to just hang out and enjoy a cheap drink. Converse in little nothings and complain about big everythings. The bar is shaped like a C. While not a full wrap around, it serves a distinct purpose. To look fucking cool. Where it succeeds in romanticizing the roman shape, it fails to offer anything but ho hum heroin chic 1990s dead pan peotic assness.

Luckily, Yokos called us in before I had to drink in another heroin fart. I highly recommend you check out the Ship Ahoy Tavern across the street. It's the only place in town that servers peebs for .75 cents. Home of the keno addicts, but at least you're entertained with personality over zombified little phlegmatic beings.