I got out of Seattle last weekend because of the annual Solstice shitshow celebration. I don’t like people that much when they aren’t naked, painted and really wasted, but have learned to just avoid being home for that particular party.
Denver is always fun, and since my partner had to be there for work most of the week, I was more than happy to join her for the weekend. We found the local Voodoo Doughnut outpost, and I wanted one, even though I generally don’t eat any doughnuts, as the sugar concentration is insane.
After acquiring said sugar bombs, we were headed to Cheesman Park, but stopped in the little bar (Blush and Blu) next to the doughnut shop for a quick bevvie. That’s where we stumbled across Leslie Herod’s hangover townhall, to which she graciously extended us an invitation though we were just visiting. She’s Colorado’s first LGBTQ African American Assembly member. It was unexpected, and delightful as was the bartender, SJ.
We made it the park, which was gorgeous, ingested a billion calories of sugar, walked around punch drunk for a while, then stumbled some of the way back to our hotel before succumbing to the allure of a brewery, a seat, and a Lyft back to the hotel.
I don’t regret the doughnut per se, but I’ve never been sugar high at altitude, and it did a number on both of us. After having some real food, we gave into the need for naptime, and later rallied, but holy crow.
A different kind of Rocky Mountain high…