So I made the mistake of taking a job working for an utterly ridiculous company that I can't talk about for legal reasons. The highlight of the seven months that I did manage to stay on the proverbial rodeo bull was without a doubt a market trip to the US. This involved taking in Seattle in order to visit another, less mental company that I also probably can't talk about. Anyway, what's a mere and very literal hop away from Seattle? The mighty, mighty Portland. So off I fucked...
I'd come in from the East Coast prior to Seattle so was a little bit jaded, 'red-eye' red eyes and a shitty throat from the planes pre-compact disc era air ventilation system. I got into Portland bright and spectacularly early, pulling up at the Ace Hotel at around 9.00am. I dumped my bags, grabbed pancakes and headed straight out to do the rounds.
FWC is pretty good. It's mostly a comic shop but it's big enough to house a half decent selection of records. You may notice from the above that they took the whole record 'bin' thing quite literally and house the product very cleverly in repurposed trash containers. If you look hard enough you area able to see that they are actually split level with another layer of 12" vinyl records housed below them in a pull out drawer.
I truly wish I'd been able to do the place justice but had met up with a friend shortly before heading over there which meant I was on the clock and happy hour, the cure for my air travel based ailments was about to chime.