Saturday, February 3, 2007

Where the Rubber Meets the Road


I went to a little place I like to call Paris on the Platte here in Denver. Let me first say that the images I had of it are incredibly wrong. I imagined a place that was much larger, and looked less like it might be a surrogate crack house. Having said that, I actually liked the place... minus the fact that the words “friendly” and “service” are about as central to their vocabulary as “wit” and “charm” are to mine, which is to say that are entirely alien concepts. I still liked it. It's a sort of beatnik style coffee shop/restaurant/bar that is also one of the few bastions of indoor smoking, without getting federally arrested and thrown into debtor's prison, which is why it's so popular. Being a smoking bar, we took advantage of that.

By we, I mean Mike Davenport, on again off again best friend, and major catalyst for all of my theology for the last year, his fiance Kelly, who is an english major as I am, and a writer as well. Next to her was her friend Micah, who is also an english major and a writer. She was new to me. She seemed smart and friendly, though quiet, and had a near perfect smile. The bit I did get to talk with her I enjoyed. Next to her was Ryan, whom I'd met before. Ryan's really cool in that borderline nerd kind of way. He's going for aeronautics, so talking sci fi with him is always enjoyable. I haven't talked with him much, but he seems like the kind of guy I could truly get along with if we could just sit down and talk. Then his wife Lynnette. I mostly know nothing about her and, due to the cramped table geography, was entirely unable to talk to her. Then was Zack, Mike's little brother. Zack's a hoot. That guy rocks and I love seeing him. He's funny, laughs a lot, but then can get down with a real serious heady conversation. Then his wife Hannah. She's really pretty, and very nice. I haven't ever talked with her to great length, though I would like to some day. Next to her (and me, thus forming a circle) was Cody. Cody was cool. Had a big fat bowled pipe. We talked a lot of theology and general life. I enjoyed his company and wish that I get to enjoy it again in the future.

So, the company was good, the malt was good, and the pipes were good. We all (us guys) lit up our pipes, sharing tobaccos and what have you, talking about life, God, whatever topic should arise. It was a very good night, and while I don't have any kind of earth shattering revelation to bring out of this, I was proud of myself. I made an effort to talk to everyone there, that was feasible to talk with, and make good conversation. Slowly, I make progress with my resolution.

1 comment:

stephen said...

I'm jealous. I could go for a night like that right about now.