And how much extra for a Happy Ending?

Where the hell do I start? 21 days in Denver is enough to make me drink!
I’ll skip all the depressing shit I have gone thru and am still dealing with and get to some of the ‘high lites’.
But first I must comment on the bureaucracy and red tape that America seems to thrive on. trying to get anything accomplished up there is like trying to run under water. Everyone has an answering machine and it is a cold day in the Breach when someone calls you back. I got so tired of pressing 1 for English, 2 for such and such, 3 for whomever the fuck, 4 for whatever the hell and 5 to hear this menu again.
If I ever did get a human on the line, they could not help me and would transfer me to a new recording! FUCK,, you all can have that shit.

I got lost on the way to a BBQ at a friends house. Stopped at a Walgreens to get change for a dollar to use the pay phone. (I seem to be the last person on the planet without a cell phone)
“I’m sorry sir but I cannot open the register to give you change.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I cannot open the register unless you make a purchase.”
“Fine, gimme this fuckin mint here!”
“Thank you sir, your change is 98 cents. Will there be anything else?”
“Is there a fucking pay phone in the area?”
“No sir, but I think I saw one 2 intersections back at the Jiffy Junkfood.”
I take my fuckin mint and head for the Jiffy Junkfood. Find the phone and hesitate to touch it as I see what I believe was snot and or buggers coating most of the handle.
I deposit my hard won quarter and dial. Another recording says I have to put money in. does this fucking thing know I put in my quarter? After about 4 tries, some cussing and smashing of the receiver against the side of the box, I read the front where it tells me the price of a phone call is now 5o cents.
Guess I never got that memo.

Another interesting thing happened when I was sent to a GOV building in down town Denver. First I asked for an address,, got one. Then asked for directions and was asked in return, “do you want me to mapquest it for you?” to which I replied “what the fuck is mapquest?” one punch of the keyboard and she hands me a map telling me how to get there! I had no idea.
I get to the building and got my shit accomplished without the tiniest bit of hassle, amazing!
As I am leaving, I find myself standing on a busy corner waiting for the light. I had a large manila envelope in my hand which some lady in a Volvo must have mistook for a “please help me” sign and she handed me a buck!
I don’t know if it was my looks or what but I contemplated hanging out there the rest of the day. But I had shit to do.

I got excited twice as I found out some of the events taking place while I was in town. One was a major motocross race I wanted to attend,, till I found out tickets were 90 bucks!!!!!
(guess I coulda collected that on the street corner in a few hours)
But I passed on that one.
The next one I saw on this sign.



Now who wouldn’t want to go see Elvis?
I mean I know the king is dead as you can be, but even if it was an impersonator I wanted to go. After all it was just a couple blocks away,, and it’s fucking ELVIS for fucks sakes!
I go inside to inquire about tickets and some guy who must have been part of the show cuz he was dressed kinda,,, weird in a gown/dress like thing, tells me there is no charge. To which I reply “Oh hell yea!”
I ask if there will be beer sales. He tells me they have wine on Sundays. So I tell him that’s OK,, I’ll bring my own.
I ask how many shows there will be and he says there is only one second coming, which I see to be kinda one of them oxymoron things. Only ONE second coming. Sounds like at least 2 comings if you ask me, but this guy was now being sort of a dick and he asked me to leave but feel free to come back Sunday. He mumbled some shit about how I needed it?


OK,, here’s the story a mentioned about my dad’s crush.
Remember he is 83, blind, barely walks, hard of hearing, and grouchy.
Mom has been the one giving him baths, he can’t do it or much of anything else for that matter, on his own. But he fights it. For some unknown reason he argues every time she wants to bath him. Soon they are yelling at each other.
There is a steady stream of therapists and nurses parading in and out of the house most every day and one girl now is his official bather. She is a tall, good looking black girl from Britain. Very soft spoken but purposeful.
Her name is Angela.
She comes the first day and gives him a bath, no problem. The next day he starts asking if Angela is coming today. Then every day he is asking. On days she don’t come, he fights mom who wants to clean him up. “No,, I’ll wait for Angela.”
Then one day as I was sitting at the kitchen table, here he comes out of the bathroom with Angela right behind him. All hunched over like he is, barely taking baby steps as he does, but singing,,”Zipity doo da,, Zippity aay,, my oh my what a wonderful day,,,”.
Mom and I fell out laughing!! Dad has a crush!!
He tells me later, “she even washes my dingy!”
I ask him if he mentioned a ‘happy ending’.
He said no, he would have to get the money from mom.


Heres that fuckin squirrel who ate all the peanuts I accidently left out after drinking beer with a buddy.






And another sign I thought was interesting.





Well, there are some of the highlites. I will remember more as the brain settles back into a rhythm. More beer ought to do it.
I am going to check out the VIP lounge at the store tonight as Mrs Barn goes to play poker with the,, eh hmm,, ladies.


If at first you don't succeed, try drinking beer while you do it. You'll be amazed at how much less you care.