Silly Boys

The perpetually mysterious but always lovely Will Hon set me up for an exciting Saturday adventure. He snagged me some “too busy for fun” fella’s leftover ticket to a concert at the Portland Zoo. What concert you ask? Well it was the Carolina Chocolate Drops. “What’s that?” I asked Will Hon.

“They’re a folk band of black men.” he replied, “Ergo, chocolate.” and the ticket was all mine. His old roommate Ben lives in Seattle and was coming down for the show.

I met Ben and his two friends outside of the apartment on Saturday afternoon. There was a big street festival taking place right outside and upon emerging into the sea of people, Ben’s helpful text of “I’m wearing brown shorts.” seemed lacking in detail. I walked exceptionally slowly towards two fellas on the street corner. I oozed towards them with a half-smile on my face, my eyes shifting between theirs and their khaki shorts. “Khaki is brown.” I thought as I crept towards them. “At least, a man might call them brown.” They looked at me with alarm in their eyes and then turned slightly away. While still in motion, I made a hard right and saw three fellas just standing. I focused my geriatric crawl in their direction and thankfully, Ben seemed to recognize the awkwardness about this lone, grinning girl and smiled big enough to beckon me over.

I found myself oddly intimidated by approaching three handsome fellas but they instantly hugged me hello and pretended I wasn’t their friend’s friend, inserting myself into their guy’s trip.

An adorable trio, Ben, Ian, and Joe were just the sweetest fellas. They were such happy gigglers and I never once caught them talking about serious things. It seemed their goal was to chuckle constantly and they achieved this objective effortlessly. As I’d been warned, Ben was so easy to make laugh and he would clap happily after anything and everything he enjoyed.

We wandered down the street, passing craft booths and artsy types that amused the fellas greatly. They stopped for drinks, BBQ, and free sunglasses before wandering back to the car to meet up with a friend. I happily climbed in with these three strangers, trusting that Will Hon would never donate me to maniacal deviants of any kind, no matter how charming and giggly.

And no, I didn’t take pictures of them. I was trying to seem cool.

We met Ben’s friend in a dark pub in a nice part of town and while they talked business, I entertained myself with the thought of a drinking water company who would sell their water in cheap plastic bottles for 79 cents. Rather than “Smart Water”, “Fresh Springs”,  or “Sparkling River” they would be simply called “Faucet Water” and I became tickled enough by this to attract attention. I of course didn’t tell them what I was laughing about and I apologized, waving them on back into their conversation about heavy machinery.

We arrived at the zoo with some time to kill before the concert. Welcoming us inside was a Billy Goat standing proudly atop a giant rock. As we got closer, we saw that half of his behind fur was missing and chucks of his wool were dangling off of his body. His legs trembled before the crowd and he laid down slowly as if waiting for death. It was awfully sad. Joe struggled to maintain his composure. A hotdog in one hand and a cup of water in the other, Joe bent at the waist, hiccupping out snorts and chuckles with his lips pressed tightly closed, a poorly-timed bite of hotdog hindering his gut busting laughter. I think it was defense laugher. He later apologized, stating “it wasn’t funny.”

Shortly after, they all laughed wildly at a creature called a “pocket gopher.”

The concert was in a grassy area next to the elephant pen. The guys chose a spot in the back, in the shade and while I hoped it wasn’t because I had warned them about my heat related daintiness, I would have absolutely fainted if they’d chosen anywhere else. It had been very hot all day and I did not feel well.

We wound up with lots of shady space to ourselves and it was here that I reaped the benefits of Ian’s subtly dry commentary. I caught Ian off in distant thought often but he never missed a chance to offer a witty retort or point out something hilarious with a relatively straight face.

I enjoyed the concert itself very much. T’was the kind of twang that you just have to tap your feet to. Ben waited patiently throughout the whole concert to find a grassy patch roomy enough to “jig” on. He bobbed his head and tapped his feet and busted out a few moves when he could take it no longer. He and Joe “jigged” heartily, stomping and jumping and swinging their arms. Ian strategically disappeared when the dancing began and showed back up when Ben and Joe finally came back over, panting and smiling hugely.

The chivalrous trio minded me like gentlemen all day and dropped me off at my door at the end of my Big Day Out. I'm smitten with these three as I never expected a group of men to all be so equally lovely. Theres always one bad, boring, or malodorous egg. But not here. I was surprised by Ben’s attentiveness, charmed by Joe’s thoughtful manners, and delighted by Ian’s sense of humor. And get this, they're all Yankees! 

It was nice to see that big men with serious jobs and important things to think about could be this refreshingly uncomplicated.

It was all very... Honbarrier.