Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Champing at the bit for a Championship recount? Part I: Getting there

It's been a week since Gotham brought the Hydra back to the East Coast in a phenomenal game against Oly. People from around the world tuned into to see the best in our sport compete in action that brought us more highlights than a Project Runway reunion special. Is Hymen Heaven our Tim Gunn? She does have that calm, fashion sense, and "concerns" that mark her as a wise guru of sorts. And I hear men and women want to marry her all the time, just like Tim Gunn. So, yeah. Let's just get into it.

I arrived late to Denver International Airport, worried that I would not get to my Super Shuttle on time. Dee Stortion,  Bad Ass Momma, and I wandered through the airport looking for our respectful modes of transportation. A helpful clerk directed me outside to the shuttle's pickup spot. Now, I had checked and re-checked my itinerary before I started my trip. The shuttle should have taken me to the Comfort Suites where I was staying with Draggin Lady. I arrived at the Comfort Inn in Westminster and was told to get out. The main doors of the motel were locked. Through an intercom I heard, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm here to check in."


"It's under ____."

I was buzzed in where a nice, if strange woman told me that there was no one there by Draggin's name. Under the flickering fluorescent lights of the lobby, I was told to call the other Comfort Suites in the area. I did so. Yup.  I was in the wrong place. Instead of the almost-posh Comfort Suites, I was in the bastard hybrid of the movie Hostel and Roadhouse, The Murder Comfort Inn.

"Welcome, Pelvis! I'm the voice of a dead clown."
Draggin Lady was nice enough to pick me up and bring me to the real hotel where there was a pool, hottub, and a concierge who loved watching Chelsea Handler on the lobby television and cackling like a methed-up witch.

Bob Ross vs. Postal Meth Witch
Wait, an Image Search for "meth witch" had results that were exactly what I typed? The hell?

Our room was pretty sweet. Draggin and Rainman of Rose City allowed me to have my own bed and I passed out quickly with dreams of the competition bouncing around in my skull. I woke up two hours before my roommates, showered and got a coffee before we headed out.

On the way to the venue, I marveled at the landscape. Giant mountains in the distance, sprawling strip malls in the forefront. Is this heaven? The store names, thankfully, showed that people around here had a sense of humor. "Pho China," "Just a Noodle Shop," and a gaming store that I believe was named "Basement Hobbies." I might not accurately recall the last one, but "Pho China?" That's really there. People dress different, too. We pulled alongside a woman who really understood color coordination.

Color Coordination
Same shade of car, coat, frames for her glasses, and the College sticker on her rear windshield. Wacky.

I was no longer in New England. I had come to a place where primary colors meant everything. It was Aldous Huxley's Brave New World only with tumbleweeds and really dry air.

In the posts ahead: Ego! Dancing! The perils of Denver bartenders pouring really strong drinks! And COWBOYS!

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