Editor’s note: Many Portlanders have been sharing online — and mocking — this description of a “day in the life” of a resident at a soon-to-be-open condo complex in the East End. Portland writer Matt Dodge came up with his own narrative for daily life at a fictional condo development. This is satirical and should not be read literally. — DM
Welcome to LightHouse, your home away from your three other homes. Located in Portland’s East End, the LightHouse condominium complex is just a short Corgi walk from some of the state’s most vibrant bars, restaurants, restaurants, bars and restaurants.
Buffeted by a cool, salty breeze, the East End was once something called a “working-class neighborhood.” Not being familiar with this phrase, we’ll just assume it’s some sort of charming old New England sailor’s term for the area where the bold, rocky coast meets the bracing waters of the Atlantic.
LightHouse is a triumph in new urbanism, giving residents of all types the chance to live, work and play in this bustling seaside oasis (credit check required).
Join us as we take you through a typical day of one of our residents.
7 AM – Rise and shine!
Look outside your window to see the hardworking, industrious Maine people filling off to work down Franklin Street in eager anticipation of your patronage. While it can be confusing and distressing to see people work so hard for something as trivial as money, the double-walled windows and premium insulation will helps drown out their screams of existential rage and general plebeian odor.
Fun fact: Most Mainers are generally no more than one generation removed from working on a lobster boat, so don’t be afraid to ask for tips on getting those drawn butter stains out of your Barbour jacket!
9 AM – Be insufferable!
There’s still a long day of Maine summer fun ahead, so grab a venti, soy milk, extra hot, split quad shots, no foam latte from a local coffee shop while avoiding the judging glare of the barista you’ve economically displaced.
Enjoy your drink while walking through Lincoln Park, where a number of the state’s “homeless” (local slang for ardent outdoorsmen) have spent the night waxing philosophical over bottles of premium microbrew and asking for something called “change”. If you’re approached to help crowd-fund the purchase of a next bottle, beware: they’ll probably just spend it on oysters.
12 PM – Feed the ego!
While scholars maintain that Portland didn’t actually exist before the New York Times wrote a travel feature in early 2009, records show that the town was actually founded in 2006 with the arrival of a Whole Foods Market. The grocery store is just a quick Prius ride away, where you can enjoy a tasting of local rainwater paired with oysters before heading to East Bayside for your afternoon kombucha colonic.
1:30 PM – Count those ducats!
You don’t have anywhere to be until your one-on-one, zero-gravity, artisanal yoga class at 3 PM, so head to the LightHouse Lounge, grab a complimentary, single-use iPad and settle into your daily routine by checking in on your trust fund. Looks like those Mylan stocks have been going gangbusters since that whole EpiPen kerfuffle. Time to reward yourself with some oysters!
4:30 PM – Live a deep contradiction!
Pop into the LightHouse mail room to find that your overnight shipment of ethically-sourced, farm-raised, liberal arts-educated peacock steaks has arrived. Sure, they might have the carbon footprint rivaling that of some less-industrialized Chinese provinces, but the worries will melt away as you look out the window of your spacious kitchen onto the steadily rising waters of Casco Bay.
7:30 PM– Bend it to your will!
Take a stroll down Congress Street and check out some of the city’s performing arts venues. If the music seems strange or unfamiliar, consider joining the city council to make Steely Dan covers a legally mandated part of all future performances.
Whether you choose to talk loudly over a band, leave a 10 percent tip for a service worker or force the doorman to break a $100 bill, just remember: This whole town exists solely for your enjoyment! As do oysters.
Matt Dodge is a writer living in Portland.