Even Towels Can't Find Work in This Economy

The gym locker room is a fragile place, an intersection of the public and private domains and thus a potentially awkward setting for otherwise common activities.

Showering. Changing clothes. Looking in the mirror to make sure your eyes are still aligned properly.

Normal stuff.

It could be considered a hub of efficiency, and there's usually a certain standard of decorum that reigns in the locker room -- at least on the men's side, to make a gross generalization. Conversations, if they exist, are short. So are the showers. For whatever reason, that's usually how it goes.

But not everyone subscribes to these unwritten rules.

Case in point: After a 30-minute battle against the treadmill earlier this week, I walked into the locker room at a 24 Hour Fitness gym to use the bathroom. I then moved into the main room (where the sinks are) and found an elderly man standing in front of an electric hand dryer. His hands, however, were not under the air duct; they were holding a gray towel around his presumably unclothed waistline, creating a makeshift dormitory for his Congressman Anthony.

The situation induced mental head-scratching as I proceeded to wash my hands. There were six sinks, three soap dispensers and two hand dryers, meaning the one not being used by Dr. Breezy was suddenly a hot commodity. I rinsed hastily.

More striking than my own scenario, though, was the logistical conundrum: How could this behavior be considered acceptable? It wasn't just that this man was hogging the clean air -- he already had unimpeded access to a towel (which, despite our technological advances, is still considered a drying device)!

I felt kind of sad as I walked out of the locker room, hands mostly dry. The towel basically got laid off and still had to kiss its former employer's behind.

SHOOTER'S TOUCH: Piled Higher and Greener

A sample of what Portland is like when it isn't raining:

Cerf Amphitheatre at Reed College (photo by Jeff Goodman)

Laurelhurst Park in Southeast Portland (photo by Jeff Goodman)

Shooter's Touch is an ongoing series of cool photos. For other installments, click here.

The People in Portland Are Ridiculously Nice

Maybe it's because I've spent most of my life in Los Angeles -- the me-centric capital of the world -- but there's something about the way people interact in Portland that makes a transplant feel awkwardly unkind. A few examples on a list that undoubtedly will grow with time:

• Imagine a portrait of a stereotypical bus driver: gruff, annoyed, persistently unhappy and unforgiving. Then hop on a bus to the largest city in Oregon, where the caricature takes a wild turn. One afternoon at a major intersection in southeast Portland, a bus driver who had made a normal stop to pick up and drop off riders began pulling away from the curb for the green light. Just then, a young pedestrian darted toward the bus in a parallel crosswalk, hoping to catch it before its departure. In other cities, he would have waited for the next bus and blamed himself for being late. Not here. Here, the bus driver, instead of zooming into the distance, drove through the intersection, pulled toward the curb -- blocking a lane of traffic in the process -- and opened the front door as the young man raced back across the crosswalk to board. Just like that. It wasn't even sunny out.

• The gas station cashier doesn't just give you directions to a tricky freeway on-ramp. No, he walks around the counter and takes you outside, pointing precisely and smiling all the way. Like it was his job or something. Plus, the guys who fill your tank -- self-service gas pumping is illegal in Oregon -- are also friendly. They should all consider moving to L.A. -- they'd make great tips.

• Homeless people aren't exactly known for their friendliness. Written off as lazy misfits or unavoidable byproducts of metropolitan life, they are often greeted by pedestrians with uncomfortable neglect -- if not scorn. Adding to the list of sweeping generalizations ... Portland seems different when it comes to this dynamic. Although the issue persists in Portland, so too does the city's apparently undying warmth (figuratively speaking, of course). The homeless people offer "Hello" and "Good afternoon," even initiating pleasant conversation. Oh, and in some cases, good luck finding the Cup o' Change.

 Stop being so nice, Portland!