stories from Denver #1

What I love about Denver is that it is a real city, complete with cabs, arenas, and hobos. To me, those three combined turns a town into a true city. That being said, I guess Omaha is merely a town in my eyes (although there is one hobo that lives out here on 144th/Center now, so we’re getting somewhere). In a real city, you dodge tourists, people trying to sell you things, and the obligatory freaks.

On 16th Street, we popped into a few stores to buy ourselves some wares. At one of these stores, my sister was making the jewelry counter attendant work for his money by trying on his rings and bracelets locked down in the glass case. While she browsed, a man was growing increasingly impatient waiting at the watches for assistance. He decided that to kill the time, he would converse with us. He told Amber which rings looked too gaudy, and which he liked, as if that would change her mind.

Then, remembering he was impatient, he barked to the salesman, “if I get a pretty girl to stand over here by me, will someone come help me then?” To calm him again, Amber asked if he liked the ring currently displayed on her finger. “I like this one,” he said, motioning to my wedding ring. “It’s simple and says, ‘I’m taken.'” And then to mom he said, “I like both of your daughters.”

After paying for our items, we were back out on 16th Street where we thought we were safely away from the creepy, lurking shadow. “What a freak!” I exclaimed to mom and Amber. “Which one,” Amber asked, “the salesman or the watch guy?” (the salesman had said one of the rings looked like something Paula Abdul would wear, and thus was very stylish – he was merely a victim of poor taste, not someone who gives you nervous chills). “The watch guy,” I said impatiently. “He seems like some sort of criminal how he was preying on much younger women and wouldn’t leave us alone.”

Then, as is always the case when I open my mouth, the person I was talking about appeared from right behind me. “Too bad girls,” he says, “that I couldn’t find a watch that matched this.” He pointed down at his ankle where he wore an electronic monitoring bracelet saved for criminals who aren’t in jail. I always knew I had great intuition.

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