Nay, my brother, nothing so pedestrian! Atop my two-wheeled steed I didst ride along the dangerous path into the fabled city of Portland. I braved the sidewalks and bridges of this many-rivered metropolis with one goal in mind- to acquire the needed armamanents to conquer the insidious armies of the facial hair!
My sole guide in my quest was the light voice in my ear, the dulcet tones of that blessed spirit who calls herself "Siri" and her mighty tool, the legendary Global Positioning System. Down Portsmouth and Lombard, across Clay and Davis, my pedal-powered vessel carried me swift as the wind. And lo, not two hours later I saw it, that massive structure of concrete and more concrete with magnificent red chimney, that ancient citadel known only as the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry!
With hands swift and sure I locked my steed to a nearby pole, and strode in as befits a hero. I nodded to the guards of this industrial temple- I meant them no threat, and they were none to me. I entered that merchant's stall they call the gift shop, and with but one mighty wave of my hand captured the rapt attention of the salesclerk. Unto that comely lass I bespoke these words:
"Hey, hi, excuse me. Do, um, do you guys sell obisidan? You know, like, the rock?"
"Uh... Yeah, over by the dinosaur models."
"Right... Yeah, okay, thanks."
"No problem. Nice kilt."
"Oh, thanks. You too- wait, sorry, my bad. Thanks."
And so, with the exchange of twelve dollars, my task was complete, and I rode home victorious.
