14154 SE Division, 761-2030
When you're sitting around with $6.79 to your name, and you're so sick of watching your roommate play Crazy Taxi you could puke, escape to The Pink Feather. Like an oasis in the bleak, stripmall desert between Portland and Gresham, it's the sort of divey restaurant I crave. It looks like crap on the outside and like a friggin' palace once you step in the door: red hanging lamps, slick pleather booths, pink feather-printed carpeting, a well air-conditioned bar, and super-friendly waitstaff.
The clientele are pretty much after-work honkeys, which is what I am, and that's of course no big surprise in Portland. They're a Cheers crowd--everybody seems to know each other, but they're not quite as sober as Cliff or Norm. I wouldn't really want to get to know them too well, but I might want to sip a drink with them and talk about Chevy Blazers or their kid's soccer team, or something along those non-descript lines.
The food at the Feather is good 'n' greasy, a high caliber of bar cuisine. They gots finger-lickin' chicken, onion rings, downright decent steaks (a mere $7-$13), sloppy-ass chili burgers, and superb hot and cold sandwiches. The only problem with the food is that afterwards, one might have the neurotic desire to make oneself barf--especially when they think about how tight their Capri pants are. But not me, of course.
Now for the important part--the drinks. It's unfortunate that the Feather is so far away, because you'll be a goddamn drunk driver after a few of their G&Ts. The rum and coke my pal had was light beige and made him squint and pant when he sipped it. Likewise, my Greyhound was a vodka on the rocks with a microbe of grapefruit. It's true that tons of liquor doesn't always make a tasty drink, but for $2, it sure keeps your debit card "a-smilin'".
What I loved most about the Pink Feather, besides the four pounds I gained, was that the waitress called me honey and let me smoke in the non-smoking section when there was no one in it. God, I love people that aren't anal-retentive. They make my tiny little life worth living.