Real Life Bizarre FTSD 97
Bill Coderre
For Thanksgiving dinner, we went to Portland, Oregon. While waiting for
our dinner reservations, we wandered past the 24 Hour Coin Operated Church
of Elvis.
It was closed, because it is not, at the moment, a bunch of coin-operated
machines in windows in the side of a building. It's currently a
boarded-over window and a loft upstairs. The Where's The Art Lady who runs
the 24 Hour Coin Operated Church of Elvis was probably off eating
Thanksgiving dinner herself.
So we went back to the 24 Hour Coin Operated Church of Elvis a couple of
days later. We stayed up late when we should be sleeping, for the next
day, at approximately 0.00325 O'clock we had to fly home, but we stayed
up, and we went back. Lisa stayed up even though she was ill, and I stayed
up even though I was tired, and we went back to the 24 Hour Coin Operated
Church of Elvis.
We drove into downtown Portland in the middle of the night, and drove
around through the throngs of weird people wandering around. There were
the drug dealers, and the club people, and the winos, and the spaced-out
people. We drove through them, and parked, and walked over to the 24 Hour
Coin Operated Church of Elvis entrance door, which was actually open, and
which said, "YES! We are OPEN!" and we went inside and up the
vomit-stained stairs and to the Church door, which said, "YES! We really
ARE open. But it takes me a few minutes to get to the door, so ONLY RING
ONCE because I am coming!"
We didn't have to ring, because there was a wedding going on. The Where's
The Art Lady opened the door and told us to stand over there, and shut up,
and witness the wedding. So we stood over there, and didn't say anything
(we hadn't said anything yet), and witnessed the wedding. And we followed
along and did as we were told, and clicked our heels together and said,
"There's no place like home" when we were told to.
Then the newlyweds, a somewhat attractive young man and lady with short,
decoratively colored hair, and decoratively pierced body parts, took the
sacred "JUST MARRIED AT THE 24 HOUR COIN OPERATED CHURCH OF ELVIS"
standard (which is a kind of a sign-plaque on a pole), and the sacred tin
cans on a string out around the neighborhood, running quickly and making
noise.
While they were gone, we were told to look around, and so we did. I looked
very lustfully at an antique vending machine that looked to be just the
right size to dispense CDs, with a big wheel to turn to spin around the
product rack, and a coin slot that said "insert 1 dime and 1 nickel ONLY".
It was a very light turquoise baked-on enamel color, and pleasantly full
of chrome parts and glass, as well as the turquoise baked-on enamel.
We looked at the vending machines that had been the the 24 Hour Coin
Operated Church of Elvis. There was an Elvis ID vendor, which dispensed
IDs saying "Attention! This person MIGHT BE ELVIS!" There was a
refrigerator magnet vendor, which had the the 24 Hour Coin Operated Church
of Elvis logo on it. And there was an intriguing machine that claimed to
be the "WORLD'S CHEAPEST PSYCHIC!" which had an Apple II sticking out of
it. I wanted to try this, but the Where's The Art Lady told me that the
vending machines were not operating right now, which was just as well,
because we couldn't break anything.
So I looked around some more, and Lisa looked around some more, and some
college kids off the street came in because they'd seen the newlyweds
running around with the standard and the cans and they saw the open door.
They giggled. "Elvis! Huh huh. That's cool! Hey, how come nothing works?"
Then the newlyweds came back. They said they'd been chased by the weirdoes
in the street. They looked happy, and the Where's The Art Lady gave them a
marriage certificate with a Polaroid, and threw the rest of us out.
I'm not sure why she decided to throw us out. Maybe it was because the
newlyweds had returned, and she had to impart some Top Secret Newlywed
Information About Elvis to them. Maybe it was the college kids were
bugging her. Maybe she was trying to be like the Doorman in the Wizard of
Oz, or Willy Wonka or something. I don't know. But the Where's The Art
Lady suddenly turned to us and said, "Good Night, People! You've had
plenty of time to look around." As we started shuffling to the door, the
Where's The Art Lady yelled again, "Good NIGHT, people!"
On the door was a sign, that said, "If you leave here without buying
something or making a donation, YOU SHOULD FEEL REALLY GUILTY!"
So we left. We went out the door, and down the stairs, and back on to the
street, and drove back to the apartment, and got up at 0.001 O'clock to
catch our flight, and flew home, and took a nap for the rest of the day.
mr HEINOUS
T.L. Kelly
On Mon, 1 Dec 1997, Bill Coderre wrote:
> For Thanksgiving dinner, we went to Portland, Oregon.
That is definitely the most bizarre thing I've heard tonight.
wenchpoet
Portland, Oregon
(friend of the church lady)