Portland was getting boring. I was getting tired of the usual bullshit. Hipster girls and pretend “woke” liberals were getting fucking exhausting. None of them knew how to fuck and they all smelled like a fucking perfume store.
I’d been planning on hopping a train back east for a few weeks when I’d heard that the Proud Boys were throwing another rally. I decided to delay my trip, and – if I was lucky – get some licks in on some fascist scum.
The protest wasn’t all that eventful. Some old fuckwad showed up with a billy club. My dude Jay took it from him and beat his ass. Conservative media went a little wild with that one. Some “journalist” got milkshaked and cried. Other than that, it was pretty dull. Until I saw her.
I never caught her name… but she was fucking hot. Short, chubby, with pink bangs. I didn’t get a good look at her face – it was covered with a bandana, but I knew it was game on. I approached her towards the end of the protest and asked her to grab a beer with me. She agreed.