Angioplasty Media representatives Evelyn and Peter King went to the Pier Dance (info for non-Portlanders: an annual Gay Pride dance held yearly in Portland) this evening at the tail end of said gay pride dance looking for a fight. Evelyn had a feeling straight boys would try to start trouble with the gay boys and girls and she wanted someone sober to be around and she volunteered herself and her fiance in the name of Angioplasty for that task. There, they met up with some friends who were distributing fliers for an upcoming show featuring some renowned house DJ and, instead of continuing their quest to find a set of nobly violent circumstances, they volunteered their selves to stand with them at the exit of the dance to hand out fliers to this show they (reportedly) know nothing about. By random passers by and, in particular, a group of aggressively gay men, Peter reports his nipples were pinched several times, his leg humped twice and his, for lack of a better term, "package" was firmly cupped. Evelyn was asked by a rather intense, strung out teenage girl, "do you have any attractive girlfriends I can fuck?" and was later told she was the second hottest woman there. Needless to say Evelyn has reported back from the show with her self-esteem slightly damaged and feeling second rate.

They �contacted me this evening from Denny's all night diner via cell phone (while on assignment Peter, Evelyn or a combination of the two have been known to be fearless about what time would be appropriate to call and brief us back at the offices) and assured us that, despite the hour wait to sit and the hour estimated time of arrival of food post-order, they're still having fun. They respectfully declined having a threesome with an attractive, physically-fit later-twenty-something acupuncturist and happily accepted left-over food from several tables of rainbow-clad lesbians who voluntarily offered it to them as they waited a half of an hour for their drinks to arrive.

At Seven-Eleven, a stop they made between the Pier Dance and Denny's, they watched a young-man run out of the store with a thirty-rack of beer and three men make a big deal about buying "Magnum" sized condoms. The men then asked for a hot-dog. The tall, skinny, white cashier sporting a pride-flag hat asked which hot-dog they wanted, a question at which they laughed, one looking at the others, repeating, "Nigga' asks which one we want?" They laughed some more.

We've flattered by the things our army put up with in the name of Angioplasty.