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3017 SE Milwaukie Ave., 503-234-9694, aladdin-theater.com.
Best Spot for “Chance” Encounters: Owing, perhaps, to its (monied, aging, NPR-tote-bag-laden) clientele’s more nuanced perspective on rock star idolatry, the alleyway behind the Aladdin used for loading and unloading gear remains open to passersby—and provides superfans with the opportunity to meet living legends middeparture. For locals in the area, it mostly leads to stories of hooligans witnessing Donovan quietly finishing his smoke in a darkened alcove.
Filthiest Claim to Fame: The Aladdin shamelessly acknowledges its infamous porno palace past. Regular patrons are expected to be aware the theater broke records for consecutive screenings of Deep Throat without wondering what occurred in the too-small, too-hard seats. For this reason, we’re always stunned and a little delighted when a rickety screen slowly descends from the ceiling to augment performances of artists with visual accompaniment. Such imagery is best seen from the equally uncomfortable balcony seats, where late-arriving attendees might catch a glimpse inside the theater’s microscopic projection booth.
Best Bite: While the Aladdin trumpets its X-rated history, the Lamp’s neighboring lounge eagerly disappeared all traces of the location’s prior era as a drug-steeped den of iniquity. Back then, the bartenders were so convinced their lines were tapped that they would only discuss the comings and goings of regular dealers in terms of “pies” on the shelf, deeply confusing those few customers who inquired about actual pies (and were unsure why they’d arrive around 2 am). These days, the Lamp acts as a sorely needed annex for wise Aladdin guests preferring to slip inside the adjoining bar rather than brave endless beer and bathroom lines.