The VC

The Virginia Cafe used to sit on Portland’s Southwest Park Avenue and boasted two old timey cash registers that printed tiny receipts and sounded like old slot machines.

The block it sat on for a good 90 years was recently razed and eventually became an urban park that now has underground parking for shoppers and commuters. Very forward, very cool, urbane and practical, green and provincial.

The replica that is now across the street from Portland’s central library on 10th Ave. (a mere few blocks away) is not bad for what it is. The same neon sign sits above the front door, the booths and decor are strangely familiar and everything about it seems like the old joint.

The mourning involved with the demolition of a local drinking institution is quickly vanquished by the delivery of a decent beverage and comfortable atmosphere.

The importance of a bar is determined only by the people who share both in its lavish history and decadent purpose. Any other reason for its memory is purely mercantile.

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3 responses to “The VC

  1. True, however, the truth could be said of relationships, wouldnt the man with all hypothesis agree?

  2. I’ve written about that joint too. Not that I liked it so much as how it was always my go-to when I worked at the Art Museum, but also how it was one of two places that failed to serve me at all on my Twenty-First birthday.

    Today, I blogged about the mural at the Sandy Hut.

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