Christine Jupp
Bio
I call Portland my home, even though I don't see it often.
Mostly poetry.
Some prose and short stories.
Achievements (1)
Stories (9)
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Two Boxes & an A-Frame
We drove on the snowy, winding road toward the A-frame cabin. The three of us had been up there before, several years ago for Sam’s birthday. That year Hanukkah came late and overlapped with the 26th of December. Mom made goulash and a mess in the kitchen that would have surely resulted in a ban from returning without our combined consorted effort. We were happy that year, watching all 11 months as they buried themself in the falling snow outside those impressive windows. The fire never went out that night, it only turned to embers that warmed our already heavy eyes. I remember watching the orange dance through the curved reflection in my wine glass. I poured the last dregs of the red into my glass. Mom and Sam were leaning against each other on the loveseat and for a moment he looked two years old again. She looked 29.
By Christine Jupp3 years ago in Fiction
The Toll Of Tipping. Top Story - July 2021.
A casual conversation with anyone working front-of-house in the restaurant industry will solidify a known ideal; these workers rely on their tips to survive. An offhanded suggestion that the industry should do away with tipping would no doubt be received with an onslaught of objection and rightfully so. For decades tipping has grown from a small optional bonus for a job well done, to a mandatory shame-inducing ritual that is harmful to patrons, restaurant owners, and especially servers. To ensure the wellbeing of service industry workers and restore the integrity of restaurants, the United States must replace toxic tipping culture with a livable wage for employees.
By Christine Jupp4 years ago in Journal
Oxxo & The Tiger
If you want to buy booze, cigarettes, juice, or any other item of convenience in Puerto Vallarta, you go to Oxxo-- Oxxo stands for kisses and hugs, my verdict on that irony is still out. Tristan and I gathered our usual assembly of Don Julio and friends to accompany us on our way back to his apartment. As we walked to the counter, the woman standing behind a plexiglass barrier gave an uneasy nod to the man working beside her.
By Christine Jupp4 years ago in Fiction
Jenga
As Megan and I drove to game night we talked casually. Her car had an empty paper bag on the floor and an orange phone holder attached to her air vent that looked like a cartoon character. Megan had just colored her hair a deep chocolate brown. Her hair changes colors with the frequency of Ramona Flowers and I love her for it. She wears glasses that match her face and clothes that move with her body.
By Christine Jupp4 years ago in Humans
