A story about Portland, OR

I was recounting this tale recently and decided it needed to be framed and hung on my internet wall.

'Twas brilling, and I had just purchased a copy of Breaking Dawn and was thus feeling self-superior by comparison. Walking down from the bookstore towards the bus stop, hands gripped on twiny shopping-bag handles, I encountered a man and his companion. The man was a large, round sort with spiked hair and traces of black lipstick. The woman was wearing cat ears.

Quoth the man, rather loudly, "I'm not a furry, I'm just a fetishist." This, by the way, transpired in close proximity to the NC-17 sometimes hentai theater downdown.

Then my bus came, and never did the warm bosom of public transportation seem so welcoming.