Enough about them and on to me. I graduated in May and instead of leaping into the real world I decided to take some time in the mountains, working a little and playing a little too. I will do my very best to write down my adventures as I have had many already. I am currently at a coffee shop downtown drinking a Dos XX while on my laptop. It's 5 o'clock somewhere.
Let's start with the ride here. I flew into the Denver Airport on the 13th around 9 am. I was scheduled to take a 3 hour shuttle ride to my destination, leaving at noon. I had 3 hours to kill all by my lonesome. I considered getting a cheap meal and watching the clock tick but instead treated myself to a lengthy french meal that took up a little under an hour of my wait and a little over half of the cash I had on me.
I enjoyed by own company at the airport and I was hoping I could have the same personal time on my shuttle out of there. I was exhausted from my brother's wedding the weekend before and was hoping to relax before beginning my job. Unfortunately, I was so fixated on every detail of my fellow shuttlers that I was unable to pay myself the attention I deserved. Instead I took notes via text, like a true blogger.
The van was made up of an eclectic group of people and two black labs named Java and Mocha. Their owner was a very high strung (likely a caffeine addict), confident, slightly masculine woman who spoke very matter-of-factly and very often and very loud. Because I was lucky enough to be the first one on the shuttle, I was also lucky enough to hear here explain to each add-on how poor Java and Mocha were doped up for the flight but the minute they passed Rabbit Ears Pass they were going to go crazy, just you watch! When introducing the pups to an older couple, the man asked her if she had another dog named Latte. The owner either didn't catch the joke or wasn't amused. Either way, the older woman found it to be quite the knee-slapper and her husband beamed proudly as if this was the first laugh he'd gotten out of her in all their 50-some-odd years of marriage.
Another guy by me was sporting a pair of silver sequin shorts, long shaggy silver hair, a brightly colored headband and was on his phone with various people tracking down his dog named Ruby. Incidentally, his new roommate let her out on accident. Idiot. He later explained to me that Ruby was not just a dog but his very best friend. Ha! Real original, man's best friend.
Two rows ahead of me was a young Asian man-boy called Sun ("like the one in the sky" he explained) who I was also lucky enough to snag a seat by in the airport. At the terminal he was laughing like a crazy person, hysterically and uncontrollably while watching Japanese YouTube videos on his laptop. He wasn't so lucky to find Wi-Fi on the shuttle so his laughter was quickly extinct after buckling up. It didn't take long for Sun to make a friend in a 15-ish year old boy who was a local and telling Sun how to "score some booze" underage. Sun looked both intrigued and confused.
Meanwhile, I am in the back row texting my mother about all of my new potential friends when I see Sun beckoning Java to come closer. My first instinct is that his tempt-Asians (get it?) had set in. Was it just me, or was there a look of hunger behind those dark eyes? After all, Sun was coming straight from the other side of the world and I had heard talk of dog-eating-men. Reluctantly and trying to spare myself doggie smell, I went into heroine mode. I must save Java! I summoned her to come to me in attempt to distract Sun and get him drooling over something more American, like some big fatty cow meat dripping in ketchup, heart failure, and Type II Diabetes.
It didn't take but 30 minutes for Sequin Shorts to introduce himself. He explained the lost dog, which I already knew far too much about from eavesdropping on his phone calls. Then he got to telling me how lucky I was to have landed the entire back row all to myself. I knew what he was fishing for, I'm no fool. He wanted me to offer him up a sliver but no such luck, Bucko. This seat was all mine. He told me how hungover he was and how he just needed some space to spread out and sleep it off. I told him he would be home soon enough and I bet he had a big bed waiting for him (even if Ruby wasn't). He told me he always slept well in moving vehicles. I told him it really wasn't all that cozy back here by the engine. He told me noise never bothered him. I told him it was hotter here and he would likely break into a sweat. We went like this for awhile, speaking in code: his hinting at joining me in the back, and my rejecting the idea altogether. Well, I thought I was strong but when the words came out of his mouth I just felt cruel saying no to the poor shiny shorted hippy.
aHe tried a new attempt and acted as if the idea had just occurred to him he said, "Hey, how about if I squeeze back there with ya? We can both nap?"
Me: "Uh yeah that's fine, just no footsie ok?"
Him: "Haha!!!! Oh yeah, of course.'
Moments later, I am curled in fetal position with Sequin Shorts on the opposite end. Our toes were mere centimeters from each other and he kept wiggling his trying to get cozy. I was trying to act like this didn't bother me but come on, I just met the guy.
Welcome to Colorful Colorado, I thought.