The man who peed on my cart and others like him cont..

OK...where was I? Oh yes, it was a warm summer evening and the end to another day at the cart. I opened up my squeaky back door and hopped down to sweep and throw out the trash.

Little did I know there would be a man standing beside my cart looking at me as he's pissing on it. Not pissing on the ground, nor in between the 100 plus cars on the lot...nope today my pristine white cart caught this mans fancy. He, like so many others was an endearing addition to the everyday hustle and grind of cart life.

"Dude...you're pissing on my cart!" I shouted at the man.

An indignant stare shot back at me as he turned to hide his junk from my view. So courteous I thought to myself...

"I'm peeing!" Dude insinuating that I'm violating his "personal comfort space."

"No shit Sherlock....you are peeing on MY FUCKING CART." I spat back at him.

I proceeded to tell him to shake a tail and get lost. No response, just the gentle stream of warm, acrid urine baptising the side of my cart, then dripping down and running towards and settling in a pothole an inch from my New Balance sneaks. Great...my very own On Golden Pond. I should toss some goldfish in there while I'm at it. What a fucker.

"Dude! Get out of here!" I screamed at him, tightly holding my broom ready to whap at the tiny peener that was causing such a mess.

A lot of F you's were swatted back and forth like a healthy game of tennis. 40 Love.

Dudes shakes IT off and tucks it back into the dark den of nasty, zips up and scolds me for invading his privacy.

I watched him proudly saunter off as he had made his mark on my little island. His very own personal hydrant. I'm sure he will be back...with more love to share.

What nerve!

The next day when I pulled up to my little, white cube of sugar goodness there was...you guessed it a little present waiting for me. Oh to be so lucky. Not flowers or chocolate's just a fat, swampy turd baking in the morning sun.

Good thing I had Portland Clean and Safe Crew on speed dial.

The man who peed on my cart...And others like him

Location. Location. Location.



Downtown Portland is one of the major hubs for food carts, feeding the masses of hungry office workers, bike messengers, students, dilettantes and miscreants. A veritable petri dish of grumbling bellies all waiting in long lines for some quick, good, hot off the grill deliciousness.



I'd say that most of my downtown customers were very pleasant and eternally grateful as I doled out the sweetness. Eyes wide and glazed over with a fine mist..perhaps a tear of pure joy..their lips perched and glistening from horny salivary glands.



Unfortunately, I've also been the recipient of not so nice, creepy, stinky, slurry, pukey, poopy and yes pee...eee people. I quickly learned not to be surprised by anything. Whether it was sweeping up piles of used drug needles, tearing down ramshackle cardboard fortresses, garbage, The Book of Solomon...whatever I've seen it and much worst smelt it:(



Now the people behind these gifts of joy are just as warm and fuzzy. The methadone clinic was just a hop, skip and a blow job from my cart and we are talkin about some true characters. A quick story...

In my spacious 8x12 trailer I had a unique window to the world outside and when it was slow I sat back and watched. Through fat billows of carbon monoxide smoke parked a rumbling...barely alive, beat to all hell Ford pick up truck. Choking from the fumes, my eyes stung as I blindly tried to close my window. Inside the truck sits two small children, one around twelve years old with a horrible pneumatic cough that rattled so deeply in her chest and sitting on her lap was her baby sister. To her left was her father who was chain smoking impatiently waiting for mom to come out of the clinic. Finally, she appeared skin and bones, no front teeth, sunken cheeks and greasy hair she grabbed her little one from the truck and creeped over to my cart. I opened my window and tried to put the brightest smile on my face as I realized that her little girl was so horribly cross eyed...I can only imagine as to what was the cause? In her toothless lisp she ordered a cupcake and quickly paid. I watched in awe as she devoured the chocolate cupcake, licking her nicotine stained fingers...not really caring that chocolate was smeared on her face and t-shirt. She looked up at me and smiled.

"That was an amazing cupcake!"

Wow. That was fucking surreal. I had only wished that her addiction was to sweets and not the poison that she put in her veins or smoked. I had hoped that she would of shared that made with love cupcake with her children, but instead in her own drug driven selfishness I'm not even sure it crossed her mind.

to be continued...

Part deux...cart doodoo

OK so you've seen my humble beginnings, littered with dirty needles, trash, nasty pee smelling cardboard that was someones bed the night before...It was a turd and I was determined to polish said turd an d make it something really sweet! No pun intended:)

First things first is to literally tear everything out and gut this baby wide open. If this cart is going to have a chance it must be defouled from top to bottom..a full gallon of bleach is in order as well as some serious gloves. When I mentioned that things were smelling a little shitty I wasn't joking.

We need to do a serious power washing of this cart, including the under carriage and I enlisted my dear friend Chad to help me out with this task. Chad showed up with his dad's trusty power washer ready to take action...he had no idea what "little gifts" were waiting for him.

Chad fires up the washer, hot water blasting off months and months of weather decay, bird shit, food debris and we begin to see the true illustrious color of the cart. When Chad makes his way to the under belly of thy beast I take a few good steps back and witness the sheer power take hold. Rotten food, soiled clothes, socks, underwear, needles, cigarette butts, coke cans that were obviously used for more than just a frosty beverage flew out from under the cart like someone had given them the ol' boot to the ass. Suddenly, I see a medium sized yogurt container come skidding out from under the cart and there it lay resting about twenty feet ahead. Even though it was twenty feet in front of us there was no mistaking the familiar smell of shit. Yup, someone shit in a cup and stashed it under the carto. Perhaps, they were saving it for later usage? I looked up at Chad and the grimace on his face will forever be burned into my memory.

"I think I got some on my shoes..." Chad quipped as he wiped off his eye glasses.

I couldn't help but chuckle at this and I really felt bad for dear sweet Chad, but I was also relieved that it wasn't me. That doesn't mean that in the very near future I wouldn't have a face off of my own with a giant turd nestled next to my cart. Apparently, the nook in front made for a great living, sleeping and shitting environment. I'm SO glad that people felt SO welcome that they could just shit:)

All I can say is thank you God for Portland Clean and Safe Crew! I bribed them with cupcakes many a time to come and do a "turd sweep" for me. It didn't even seem to faze them as I watched them scoop, and plop the turd into the bucket and quietly roll on to the turd gig. I know I wasn't the only poor soul that had an uphill battle with the late night turd phantom.

Owning a cart downtown and turds I guess goes hand in hand. I know this is gross and I generally make people happy with sugary sweetness, but this is the nitty gritty details that I feel like I need to get off my chest.

If you intend on opening a cart downtown, then prepare yourself for a turd battle. Some tools to have on board: kitty litter to absorb nasty things, heavy gloves, a mask or bandanna, a scooper and lots of bleach. This is your armor against the fangled turd dusters of the night. Be ready.