So I went to Colorado this past weekend to play club regionals with Monster. Of the many things that happened this is the only thing I will remember for a long time. I'm posting this so you story-stealers (Sara, Box and others) don't do it anymore injustice. :-P
It was Sunday night in Commerce City Colorado. Box and I booked flights back to LA for Monday morning. Allen and Robby from the Condors shared a room with us on Sunday night because everybody else left on Sunday night.
I was tired from the weekend of ultimate, full from the buffalo burgers I had at Shifters, and thirsty for something to do. It was 8:30pm and I was set on getting beer. I called the front desk for directions to the nearest liquor store. He told me to meet him at the front desk.
Me: "All right! Who wants to come get some beer with me?"
Allen: "My foot is broken"
Box: "I'm a puss"
Robby: "I'm 6'3" and I can probably protect you if you need it."
I figured that the liquor store was going to be close so I threw on a coat, my brand new beanie and my flip flops. Yes. I hate shoes and avoid them at all costs. Even when it was 30 something degrees outside I put on my flip flops.
Robby and I get directions from the guy at the front desk. Take the main street, take the bicycle bath, turn left at the gas station, it should be on the right. No problem.
As we walk I realize that it is colder than I thought it would be, but it's ok because the liqour store is so close. We'll be back tot he hotel and drinking in no time. So we go down the main street, down the bicycle path, and turn left at the gas station. We walk down 1 block, then 2 blocks, then 5 blocks. We stop. We are in the middle of a bunch of commercial buildings.
Me: "What if the guy at the front desk set us up to get mugged?"
Robby: "It's ok, I will protect you. I'm going to nationals, I can defeat anyone."
We head back to the gas station hoping that they have beer or directions to the liquor store. The gas staition doesn't have beer, but they do have 25cent donuts.
Gas station lady: "the liquor store next door closes at 6 on Sundays"
Me: "what the fried rice? OK. Where is the next closest liquor store?"
Gas station lady: "It's not walkable"
Robby: "we'll be the judge of that"
Gas station lady: "well, it's 60th and quebec. It's about a mile. It'll probably take you an hour walking. Just go down quebec and it'll be on your right."
We chuckle as we leave the gas station. How slow does this lady walk? 1 hour to walk a mile? We probably just finished running a thousand miles over the course of the weekend. What's another mile? We take a short-cut that the gas station lady suggests. There is a fence between us and the path. Robby jumps over the fence with no trouble because he's tall. I struggle with my flip flops to get good footing. I'm over the fence and my heart rate has increased consderably. I'm already starting to think "this beer is going to taste so good when it hits the lips".
We find quebec. It turns out that it merges into 2 or 3 freeways. We play frogger and cross streets with 4-5 lanes of traffic with no crosswalks. We realize that we are crossing over a river. The street loops back under the bridge we just crossed over. My toes are starting to get cold.
After a few more LONG blocks we find another gas station. We going to get warm and make sure we're going in the right direction. The lady reassures us that we are only 3 or 4 lights away. I ask her why none of the gas stations sell any alcohol. She doesn't know. Colorado is useless.
We trek on and at the next light we read a sign that says 52nd street. I remind myself that we have to get to 60th. I try to block this out of my mind. By this time we had exhausted all conversation topics. We discuss where we grew up, when we started playing ultimate, college ultimate, club ultimate, our favorite ideas for beer pong tables, party themes, girlfriends, family, religion, politics, and jobs.
We get to 56th and I feel a strange familiarity with area. I look up and see a sign that says "Dick's Sports Fields". Yes, we passed the fields where we played ultimate that weekend. Now I know that there is no turning back. I see the bar "Shifters" where I ate dinner only a couple hours ago. We check in there. I talk to the waitress that served us at dinner. She tells us that it is only 3 or 4 more blocks.
We suck it up and walk in silence. We conserve heat by leaving our mouths closed. 57th, 58th, 59th. We see the light. A bright sign flashes, "Liquor Mart". We get to 60th. We see the building. There are neon beer logos all over the windows. We cannot see anything on the inside. It seems dark. I swallow hard.
Robby: "It looks like it is closed"
I try to stay calm and not punch him in the face.
Me: "Robby, you shouldn't be making that judgement call from this far away"
We walk faster with fear and anticipation. Robby puts his hand on the door handle. A bead of sweat or a tear falls off my face. He pulls. The door opens.
An alcholic's heaven. Hard liquor. Wine. Refridgerated beer in order from crappiest to sexiest. From PBR to Fat Tire. I get a 24 pack of coronas and a jug of wine that looks so old that it could become a fossil fuel in a couple years.
There is no way we're walking all the way back with this case of beer and jug of wine. Robby calls the cab company. It's 9:45 and we chat it up with the 2 ladies that work the liquor store so they let us stay inside until the cab gets there. THey are both chain-smoking 50 year old women. One of which has a fully permed mullet. It's 9:59 and they are locking the doors and turning off the lights. We call the cab company again.
Cab company: "nobody has picked up your call"
Robby: "how long is it going to be? 10 minutes or 40 minutes"
Cab company: "I don't know"
Robby: "goodbye"
We thank the ladies for letting us stick around so long. We walk out to the corner. I sit on the case of beer and desperately search my phone for numbers of people we could call. The ladies walk out to there cars to go home after a long night of work. One lady looks at us disappointingly. "I'll give you a ride"
I jump up, pump my fist, and yell, "YES!" She take us back to the hotel as she smokes her cigarette. I am afraid to cough and have her kick us out of the car. She is surprised at how far we walked and so are we. She drops us off. We open the beers.
It will forever be the best Corona I have ever tasted.
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3 comments:
wow, sounds like you walked more than a mile just to get your hands on booze? you're crazy.
Dude...sounds like you and Robbie had a nice little Brokeback Beer adventure! Beware reuniting with him in LA...your emotions might get the best of you!
Well, KG would walk more than a mile, in the cold, in flip flops, to get his hands on booze.
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