The Third Place

It’s actually really good for me that Misdemeanor Meadows isn’t closer. The last thing I need is for my favorite bar to be right next door. It’s a blessing, really, that I could walk but it would take 45 minutes, and I could take the bus most of the way, but that takes more planning than I usually want to do just to go out to a dive. I don’t drive to bars because I like to drink in bars, so that’s out. I could bike, but I don’t like to bike in the rain, since I’ve eaten shit way too many times doing that. And, in Portland, you can really only avoid that three months of the year. 

I’ve always wanted a “third place”. Some type of hang that wasn’t my home or my work, a “Cheers”, or a “Moe’s” if you will. I know several people who are so attached to their neighborhood bars, the employees and the other regulars that they may go there every day, whether its for coffee in the morning or a beer after work. I’ve always romanticized this idea, even when I saw it in its incestuous forms and experienced the bar drama that comes when you see the same regulars nearly every day. At the bar that was the closest to my old work, I got a secondhand taste of The Third Place because it was the bar where we all went after our night shifts. I definitely spent countless hours at this bar, we’ll call it the Mouse and Clover, and while I enjoyed it there, I never felt like I made a particular connection enough to warrant going there every day the way that the regulars there did. If you’re a regular at one of those places, that small world is your oyster. It was the kind of place where the die-hard bar goers took up the space at the small bar top itself, so almost every time I went alone I’d be at a table by myself- not bad for getting work done, but I like to go to bars alone to be social sometimes and this was not the place, my not being already ensconced in that scene. It is a fun bar, but when I changed jobs, I kind of stopped going in and didn’t really miss it. 

I have a friend that goes into his neighborhood bar every night. He even moved to a different apartment in the same neighborhood and a selling point for the new place was that it was closer to his bar. He never brings his dates there because it’s too risky. What if the date loves the bar and it doesn’t work out between them? What then? You can’t very well tell someone not to come to a public place, just because its your place, to say nothing of the fact that these people see you every day. Introducing a date is practically like bringing them home to meet your parents. I actually myself never go to this particular bar because it somehow feels like an intrusion if he didn’t invite me. Because I know he will be there. I a hundred percent know that if I hang out there long enough, he will come in. And then, since we’re friends, he’d probably feel like he had to hang out with me instead of his bar friends, or possibly trying to include me when there’s almost no point. There’s no way I could possibly catch up, and unless I’m coming back every day I’ll never get it. It would be like deciding to take up basketball and joining a team where everyone else had been playing together for ten years. I might follow along as well as could be expected, and they might be patient with me, but nobody’s passing me the ball. 

The neighborhood bars that lend themselves to becoming a Third Place for people aren’t exactly casual hangs in this way. Rather than customer service in a living room-style vibe, these places really become like living rooms. Lives get intertwined, regulars hook up with each other, fights happen. It’s a delicate dynamic, developing a relationship with a bar, especially since hanging out there still costs money. Maybe it’s like having a regular prostitute that you go to. In order for the relationship to continue, you have to have an understanding between you that as friendly as your relationship may be, it’s still transactional. 

I think the reason I never had a Third Place was that when I was young and single, I had no money, and now that I’m married I just don’t have the time for it. Maybe when I retire, if retirement is a thing by then, I’ll find a cool neighborhood spot and belly up. Since Misdemeanor Meadows is the coolest thing in my neighborhood but I’m not there often enough to consider it a Third Place, I’m not too close to be objective. I’ve just had great times both drinking and playing music there, and you should too. If you’re in SE Portland and looking for a stiff drink at a good price in a charming punk-adjacent atmosphere, Misdemeanor Meadows is located at 6920 SE 52nd Ave and reopens this Friday at 2pm.