The first time I hung out with Darrell Mathes I was a bit skeptical of this pseudo-metro Portland pretty boy. I knew the dude could ride rails, jumps, pipe, anything but whether or not he could hang was another question entirely. Whenever the waitress came around I expected him to order either some form of designer martini or a Mike’s Hard Lemonade [aka the Dateline Chaser.] Darrell ordered neither. As a matter of fact he didn’t order anything. This only heightened my suspicions.
Then, a strange thing happened. One by one, different people walked up to our table and accused Darrell of stealing their drinks. Each time, Mathes just stared back at the accusers with a look that said “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t or maybe I don’t even speak English.” As it turns out Darrell had swiped at least a half dozen half-drunk soldiers and pounded them on the sly. Good style.
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