From food to checkout lanes Portland is not in a hurry. Maybe this goes hand in hand with how nice everyone is. I guess it’s hard to be so helpful AND keep a line moving but Portland is falling just short of Island Time.
I was standing behind a women in line at Freddie’s and the check out fella proceeded to have an entire conversation with her after her order was complete. Trying to stifle my annoyance I waited, internally steaming, until he began scanning my items. With a bright smile, he checked me out chatting casually with my son. My anger started to calm because he was so genuinely pleasant.
This summer my husband was starving at the Mt. Hood Ski Bowl and was drawn to a slice of pizza like a moth to a flame. The service worker did not want to serve him the pizza perched before him because it was about an hour old and it would only take him “about 15 minutes to make a fresh one”. It’s an amusement area, the food is supposed to be overpriced and taste like cardboard. Not in Portland.
Then there are the food trucks. The whole concept of my food coming from something on wheels indicates speed to me. Although the people who own them have probably shaken the hand of the farmers supplying their ingredients, you will surely feel like that handshake has transpired between placing your order and receiving your food. Similar to the Freddie’s experience the forgiveness comes when you bite into your food.
My friend, also a city gal, has taught me that some of them (sushi truck on 28th) will take a phone order so you don’t have to wait so long once you arrive. For now, I will continue to find workarounds until Portland speeds up or I complete my assimilation.