Scene: Tall man in his twenties, wearing a bright red Santa hat and jacket, stands a step or two farther back from the urinal than is normally prudent. He sways on his feet. The two non-Santa-dressed men, one tall and bald, the other shorter and wearing a snappy fedora, approach and select the two open urinals on either side of the taller, younger, Santa-dressed man, and begin to make use of the facilities.
Santa Boy: (slurred) How’re you doin’?
Brian: We’re merry!
Santa Boy: I’m so wasted!
Brian: I see. Did you start at noon?
Kevin shifts position to avoid Santa Boy, who is swaying dangerously near.
Santa Boy: Yeah, it’s early. But I should go home.
Brian: It’s a long way back to the North Pole.
Santa Boy: It’s OK… I’m staying with my parents.
Ah, yes… Santacon 2008. Outside, drunken revelers of all ages, dressed in Santa clothes, partied and yelled and rode tall bikes and yelled some more, as they wandered from bar to bar to bar to bar, all day long. The scene on the front porch of Powell’s City of Books had resembled a Christmas rave, with booty-shaking girls in red and white mini-dresses danced on the railings.
Next year, I’m participating. How could I not? Summer has the naked bike ride; winter has the Santacon. Portland is awesome.