ON THE northeast side of Portland is a pastry shop called Pix Patisserie. During the early days of the pandemic, when Pix was struggling to respond to restrictions, the owner had the idea to install a pair of dessert vending machines in the front courtyard. Today, these semi-brutalist things are probably responsible for most of Pix's sales. They're accessible twenty-four hours a day. If you feel like it, you can go there just before dawn, feed a machine $12 (US), and watch the sunrise while eating a chocolate mousse contraption named-brace yourself-Un Fantôme, Un Couteau, Une Nuit.
Maybe there are better ways to spend your time. I doubt it, though.
There's this annoying thing people sometimes do where they talk about something obviously virtuous as though it were a dirty little secret. My guilty pleasure? Well, sometimes, I do Pilates without even stretching first! This is awful; you should not associate with people who do this.
My guilty pleasure is eating garbage food in the middle of the night. Before we go any further, I should note that both parts of this predilection are equally vital. Eating garbage food at normal hours is just life; eating radishes at three in the morning is plainly sociopathic.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der JanFeb 2024-Ausgabe von The Walrus.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der JanFeb 2024-Ausgabe von The Walrus.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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