Taxi Cab Confessions

Fighting a brewing cold, this past weekend we headed to Denver to check out the Cubbies, the bars, some friends and to take care of a little home shopping needs, not necessarily in that order.  Living in Vail, you have to plan your trip to Denver precisley to maximize your city time, quite similar to prioritizing your TiVO….one mistake and you are left helpless, nude and alone with an empty remote in one hand and a fond memory of what could have been in the other.

Dave and I met up with our friends Nissa and Mike on Friday night for the game. Starving and uncomfortable, I was delighted when Nissa pointed me in the direction of of Fancy Nancy’s Burritos.  Do not mistake this for a restaurant.  This is simply a lady holding a hand scribbled sign with various prices on it and a cooler of burritos outside the stadium.  I am sure this is health department approved.  These burritos are nothing of the likes of Illegal Petes (or Chipotle or Qdoba if you don’t know what Illegal Petes is) but more flat like Taco Bell.  The only time I have ever eaten these burritos was at 2 am after the bars have rudely ushered me out to close, at which time I am hungry, immune to feeling things as I run into them and I no longer care about sucking in my stomach.  At this time of night they are a wonderful treat consumed in a mad haste.  At 6:30 pm as a primary source of dinner I might steer you otherwise.  Sorry Nissa, they just aren’t as good sober.

Well, the Cubbies won. WooHoo.  Nissa and I spent a good portion of the early part  of the game deciding a good fantasty football league name for her and her brother.  Apparently, the name has to include the name of an international city.  This was a good creative exercise where we came up with the following:

• Baghdad Ass Up
• Istanbul Poop
• Osaka Yo Mama
• Shang”HIGH” -I Wish I Was

Pretty quality of you ask me.  Unfortunely my blog does not have a vote feature (or maybe it does and I am too computer illiterate to figure it out?) or else I would have my 2 readers vote on the issue.  Actually, that would be lame, since it would most likely end up in a tie.

We headed back to Mike and Nissa where we decided to ignore our fans and stay in, order pizza, “party” and watch Flight of the Concords.  To recap my food schedule on Friday, I opened up the day with a breakfast bar, which isn’t too bad.  I threw down some tamales for lunch, of which I fall more in love with each and every feasting.  I might have made love to them if I wasn’t at work, however with all the sexual tension building between us, it might be inevitable.  Chowed on Fancy Nancy’s burrito and capped it off with some late night ‘za.  Truly, this is the diet of the stars.

On Saturday, after some sweet shopping action, we met up with DBlow, D-Snax and Boner for the game.  Boner, to cool for school, refused to move seats at the Cubs game and decided to sit in the sun.  We would have none of that and moved to the opposite side of the stadium.  Without question, there are some strange cats out an about the stadium on Saturday night.  This included the lady who obviously had recently purchased some boobs and decided that the t-shirt she was wearing should be forced into some brutal torture session with every thread was hanging on for dear life.  I could alomst hear the screams of pain from her poor shirt.  My other favorite character I dubbed “Borderline Dwarf in Jean Shorts.”  The name almost does him justice, but add a mullet, subtract a shirt, tighten the jeans shorts to death defying levels and add in 10 buckets of crazy and you have my new best friend.  He screamed at me to look at his hand.  Shockingly, I refused.

Fast forward to late night bars.  After inexplicably losing Dave at the first bar, it was quite clear that keeping the group together was going to be a near impossible feat.  Boner was with a bachelor party, of which we were suppose to tag along, but it never really materialized.  This is probably a good thing, since during my last self examination check in the shower I did not see a penis attached to any part of my body, I do not see why a bachelor party would be interested in having either myself or D-Snax present in their last moments of “freedom”.  After endless debate on a street corner, where Dave and DBlow were drunk and DSnax and myself were merely buzzed, we decided to hail a cab and meet up with our good friend Matt a couple miles away.

I am thrilled when the cabbie immediately knows the cross streets I am referring to, since I really don’t know shit about the streets of Denver. I am also thrilled that this portly, long haired gentleman looks quite similar to that one cabbie on Taxi Cab Confessions.  I am immediately pleased with our decision.  Dave and DBlow, on the other hand, keep harassing the cabbie about how good La Boheme is.  La Boheme is the strip club, oh, I am sorry, the “Gentleman’s Caberet” as it is referred to on its website, that Boner and his friends were going to visit.  Imagine how much wind was knocked out of their sails when I told them we were going to an irish bar to meet Matt.  Oh my stars and stripes, we had just discussed this chess play 5 minutes earlier.  What a bunch of drunks.  (Secretly I was jealous that I wasn’t as drunk as them and was the responsible one in the front seat.)

Our time at the Irish Rover was quite pleasant with an excellent band playing.  I was enjoying some good catch up time with Matt when DSnax got the call from Boner.  She saunters back to the table and said a few words that stopped me dead in my tracks: “Boner is at some place called Illegal Petes and he wants us to meet him there.”  Um check ya later.   I am pretty sure I pushed down women, children and the elderly in my frenzy to tell Dave to pay the tab and hail me a cab. Had any of them had a walker I would have picked it up to shove people away from the door.  I mean, come on, this is THE burrito we are talking about here.

Dave, fully understanding the seriousness of my frantic, boarderline obsession with Petes, was able to hastily get to the curb to hail a cab, despite his intoxication.  This is what a good man does……aides in your quest for a burrito without asking any questions.  I think that will be written on his tombstone.

As the cab pulls up another group ascended upon it and I could feel my rage building….that was until Dave walks over to the guy in charge of the group and drops a sarcastic, “Hey, that’s cool man, we will just get the next one.”  Little did we know what a blessing this would be.

Not a minute later, another cab rolls by and we pounce on it like Britney to a slutty outfit. Once in the cab, Led Zepplin is just emerging on the radio and in our drunken high, we asked him to turn it up.  Not only does he turn it up, he cranks it to 11.  It was liberating.  He didn’t say one word and we all just jammed out.  It was a perfect cab ride.  Thank you myserious, wonderous cabbie.

Illegal Pete’s did not disappoint.  The place was jammed tighter than “Boarderline Dwarf in Jean Shorts” jeans.  Yes, it was crowded.  Forgetting that DBlow and DSnax have never blessed their stomach with this diamond in foil, I was rude, didn’t explain the menu to them and was first in line.  Light on the beans…check.  Two scoops of pico….check.  Dumps of sour cream….check.  Mixed to perfection….check.  You see, this is what sets Petes apart from the chain burrito joints (although I guess with 5 locations now, it is almost a chain).  They mix the shit.  And they don’t just half ass it….I typically get 3 – 5 spoon rotations.  I don’t have to strategize when I eat a Pete’s burrito because it is all just the right amount.  I need a moment to reflect……….It was like Christmas in the summer.

It would be an understatement to say that I shoved the whole thing in my mouth and chomped like a porn star.  That burrito never had a chance.  My biggest joy was watching DBlow eat a few bites and then rave about how delicious this exact burrito was.  It could have been the drunk talking, but deep down I felt like a proud parent……of a yummy little burrito.  I only had one unfortunate thought. They skimped me on the heating of the tortilla.  A minor oversight, but it did impact the entire burrito.  Now I have to add “Press it for 5 seconds” to my ordering regiment.  It is amazing, I blunder my coffee ordering everytime because I am not privy to the Starbucks lingo, but I could recite my Petes order in 5 languages.  Actually, that is a lie…only two languages…..drunk english and sober english.  Does that count as bilingual?

(I must apologize to my college friends for the text message picture of my burrito from that night.  I am guessing that is not what you wanted to wake up and see first thing on Sunday morning…my bad.)

With Pete’s rolling around in my stomach, mixing company with burgers, bagels and other burritos, we headed back to Boner’s pad. (Side note:  I imagined Pete’s burrito beating up Fancy Nancy’s burrito in my stomach on the walk back.  Is that something I should have kept to myself?) Too dumb and self absorbed to make a real effort to get a cab, we walked.  DSnax tried to limbo under a parking lot chain and shockingly fell down.  I refused to try because general flexibility is not an attribute I can brag about.  Much like my foot speed or my fashion sense.  We were almost home, when like a shiny angel we passed a real estate office with a Vespa prominently displayed inside.  I stopped, drooled on the window and moaned an uncomfortable, almost Rocky like moan.  “Oh Vespa, when will you be mine?”  I pulled myself away, rejected again.  I hate you Vespa.

As we turned the corner there was a huge poster with a chick’s crotch at eye level and  DSnax and I decided to frame with our hands and make inappropriate gesters.  Immediately, this homeless guy comes around the corner, without a shirt on, and starts yelling at us. I don’t know if the picture we were caraessing was of his lover, sister or mom, but it pissed him off and he yelled “Fuck You” and “Get a Fucking Cab”.  He sorta looked like the neighbor in Office Space, if I am recalling properly.  Humored, yet intimidated, we beat it on down to Boner’s pad (no pun intended), sat on the deck and listened to him harass others.  I think if I lived in a city, that would be one of the joys of summer. Listening to the crazies yell at other crazies.  You just don’t get that in Vail.   

If  I learned anything this weekend, it is the following:

• Jean Shorts are unattractive
• Mostly wackos walk around Denver without shirts on
• Denver cabbies are cool
• I am too old to sleep on couches for a whole weekend
• Vail needs a good burrito joint

Whew….that was a long one.  I’m out.