The Rumpus is almost West Gresham. In fact, it is what you might call a border bar. You know, people walking in with their own empties, a few women among the regulars, and late night tater tots. But, you see, the bar has two 22 foot Rock-O-La shuffleboard tables from the 40s and, on Tuesdays, we have a run of the place. The table with the darker lacquer surface and the elegant lines of play is the Brunette. The polytop Blonde is a distant second. We only play the Brunette, but you know, if you haven’t gotten anywhere with her all night, it’s okay to hit on the Blonde. Despite a slightly desperate atmosphere hanging in the air with the smell of fryer grease, the Rumpus Room knows exactly what it is and excels at it. Gabby rules the roost behind the bar, the eminent personification of familiar beauty and casual grace. The taps offer cheap American and comfortable micros. The bar food is uncomplicated and … um …. hot, but somehow it tastes just fine. For us city folk, the long cycle east is always worth it and the return trip sends us home with only pleasant baggage. While we highly recommend the Rumpus, especially as a shuffleboard mecca, we kinda would like to keep it for ourselves. No really, its practically in Gresham.