The Commodore

The Commodore sits at the corner of 16th and Southwest Morrison. It also sits at the junction of my last clear memories of Pub Crawl.

We hit the Commie at about the halfway point of a 15-bar journey in a night of debauchery and, at times, dangerous drunkenness.

The drinks were reasonably priced and a bit on the stiff side, which rings beautifully in any student’s ear.

They also offer about a dozen beers on tap, including Sierra Nevada, a classic pale ale, and a couple selections from the Deschutes Brewery, including Mirror Pond Pale Ale, a stronger, fuller bodied competitor to Sierra, and Black Butte Porter, the good old, down-home, dark Oregon brew.

Unfortunately, hitting 15 bars in one night requires keeping a tight schedule. We only had about 15 to 20 minutes to soak up the atmosphere and shove off for the next locale.

The bar seems to get a regular clientele. One of the patrons, a jovial yet rather intoxicated fellow we will call Jimmy, engaged me in conversation as I brought up the rear on our exit from the bar.

“Are you all actors?” Jimmy asked. “What play is it?”

“What? Uh, no. We’re on a Pub Crawl,” I said.

“A crawl? What do you mean?”

“We’re taking a tour of 15 Portland bars.”

Jimmy laughed and took another quaff of his beer. “Well, good luck to you.”

Good luck indeed. We would need it. But that is another story. Let’s just say that the Commodore is a great place to catch a drink and shoot some pool.