Presiding over a busy intersection in what feels like the epicenter of Portland State's urban campus, it's plainly obvious the Cheerful Tortoise doesn't have to try very hard. It's self-styled as a comfy neighborhood sports bar—and, yes, TVs and Timbers and Blazers paraphernalia loom everywhere—where you can catch a game while choosing from a "menu" of various foodstuffs including soup and pizza and sandwiches. But the strong cocktails, bright lighting, lady bartenders in referee uniforms, and persistent vomit crust in the men's room tell the rest of the story. The Tortoise feels just like a joint where dim young men can unthinkingly gather in packs and get shit-faced. DENIS C. THERIAULT