a hardcore caveman

It's good to be back.
When we got on the shuttle that took us from the Denver airport to the hotel, they gave us a couple pieces of advice: 1. Make sure you drink more water than normal, because you get dehydrated easier at the city’s elevation; and 2. Any alcohol you consume here has double the impact it would in your usual lowly-elevated cities. I dunno, but #2 kinda sounded like a science experiment waiting to happen to me. And, after last night, I can say with confidence that, for me at least, it ain’t true. I kept track of my intake last night so that I could double it the next day and see what I “Denver-drank.” Turns out, if the doubling rule holds true, I Denver-drank fourteen beers and four shots. If I had drank that in the span of last night’s outing I’d’ve been supremely blasted… and I was only pretty plowed (yeah, there’s a difference).

Still, the cigarettes did the most damage. When someone saw me with one last night and cast an inquisitive glance, I nodded toward my smoking hand and, over the thumping bass, said, “Only when I drink.” “How often do you drink?,” quipped back my friend. “Only when I smoke,” I replied. I’ve kind of figured I’ll never really learn with that one… I’m sure there was one caveman who insisted on sticking his hand in the fire over and over just to see if there was one time it wouldn’t burn him; I’m that caveman. I guess I could have worse alcohol-induced vices, like hookers or barfights or seizures. Well OK, maybe seizures are a stretch, but you know what I’m saying. I’m merely flirting with cancer, at least I’m not running the risk of flopping around and swallowing my tongue. What the heck? Ahhh… In bed by 3am, up by 5am to catch my flight… a hardcore caveman.

It was a good way to end the conference, cast off the pressures of the preceding week, and let loose a bit. We ended up at the Coyote Ugly bar, the likes of which I’d never been to before. The bartenders are all attractive young girls who split their time between serving up the firewater and dancing provocatively on the bar for the audience of ogling men. The place is kind of a laugh really, watching a whole crowd of men under the complete spell of two or three scantily-clad women dancing on the bar… holding out fistfuls of bills for more drinks, whistling and catcalling, and snapping pictures. Someone said to me while we were there, “This place is like the halfway house between stripping and bartending, ” and that’s about as accurate a description as you can give it. But, I had a good time. Those girls own their 99% male audience, and they know it. I was thinking what a feeling of power that must be, and how if I was a hot chick with little inhibition I might like to strut around on a bar and sling drinks to make my way through college or something. Anyway, the beer was cold, the music was loud, and I’d never done body shots before – so all in all it was an enjoyable experience.

I don’t understand what the hang up is about driving with the windows down and the air conditioning on. Why is this so bad? I love having the windows down when I drive, but sometimes it’s a little too warm for my taste if the sun is beaming directly on me, so I turn on the air. This seems to confound some people. I think the idea is that I’m somehow “wasting” air conditioning. As if filling the shut-up car with it is any less “wasteful.” It’s not like there’s a true thermostat in my truck and the air will only come on to maintain a set temperature. When I use the air with the windows up, I just turn it on and leave it on to maintain a temperature that I like. How’s that any different than doing the same thing with the windows down? I like the fresh air, and the cold breeze from the air vents… is that so hard to understand? A waste of gas, you say? Bah, if the windows were up I’d surely have it on anyway. Get off your high horse and let me enjoy my air conditioning however wastefully I choose. I also mix regular trash with recyclables and pour motor oil down the stormdrain, so take that… hippy.

My entry yesterday generated three comments, that’s not bad really. Well, of course I got 753 online poker and natural viagra comments that got trapped by the spam filter. But three legit comments is a big deal for me. I’m not some superstar blogger who gets fifty comments on his every post, I’m just some writin’ dude who has six friends who know his web address.

No, I don’t really pour motor oil down the stormdrain. Catch ya later.


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