The Mountains are Lovely

In which I opine on my new home . . .

So, I’ve been in Denver almost four months.  At the two month mark, inspired by tragic events, I opined not so much on the locality, but on broader cultural trends and the impact on many people in the area.

So, at four months?  Well, out of the gate, I’ll admit by most accounts to being a boring person.  It’s not that I don’t like a party, I just really don’t like having stuff dumped and spewed on my outfit (and or hair) and I’m really grossed out by guys with no social skills who glom all over women like we’re free stuffed animals at a garage sale clean out.  I’m also not much one for sitting around if nothing else is happening and it is so loud you can’t possibly make conversation.  Translation:  I’m really not much of a barfly for better or worse and I realize that makes me boring to most people and if you think I am boring go ahead.

So, . . . . Saturday evening around 5pm, I find myself downtown.  There is a craft/ micro brew festival going on in downtown over the weekend.  I had been downtown on Friday night as well and the typical downtown scene was even more typical.  It was a warm night and the crowds were definitely in celebration mode.

Saturday was similar.  I was headed to a more staid event, however, the festival crowd was definitely around.  As I’m walking by Chipolte, I think the first thing I notice is the smell.  Then, I think the sight of the puke is what I notice next.  Then I notice the puker.  Then the second pile of puke.  Then puker two.  Sitting at a café table at Chipotle.  On the patio.  Much, I am sure, to the benefit of everyone inside the Chipotle.  Two pretty normal, forty give or take guys.  Pretty main stream.  Decorating the patio at Chipotle with their vomitus.  At 5pm on Saturday.  It’s not even dark out.  Strictly speaking, cocktail hour has just begun.  They didn’t look they were going to pass out.  They actually looked fine.  Now that they puked.  They kind of looked a bit proud.  A bit sh!t-eating?

It’s really interesting.  It’s not often that you actually witness someone wallowing in their own crapulence.  So, there ya go.  Every new place offers new experiences and now I can say I’ve actually seen two people wallowing in their own crapulence.  Thank you Denver!

Of course, a few yards on is an RTD employee, on a dinner break or just off shift, not sure which.  Looking pretty forlorn.  Probably wanted to get Chipotle for dinner (who doesn’t?).  Probably didn’t have much of an appetite at this point.

Aaanndd people want to know why I don’t hang out much in downtown.

The undertone here is that there is nothing particularly surprising about this.  I suppose if there are two kinda people about everything—cat people and dog people, morning people and night people—there are people who think puke is cool and there are people who think it isn’t.  I am an isn’t.

So, a bookish little analyst am I.  If only I can find a little shelf and another bookend.  🙂

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About missbodie

The Dragon Lady is a life long tea drinker. Her first coffee shops were Big Boy and the Oriental Diner in downtown Milwaukee. She lives in our Nation's Capital with three bicycles and an energetic tabby cat.
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