I had been in Denver for a couple of days now, and today was all about meeting up with friends. Long before I started this walk I had been in a band and toured through here quite a few times. I was really excited to meet up with them and tell them all about this new adventure I was on so I contacted a few of my local friends to let them know I was in town. Only one of them came out. My friend Liz. She was somebody that has always been around. We ended up staying at her house during a tour eight years ago.
I thought back to the last time we hung out. The band I was in had a few days off in Denver. A group of us ended up going to a swing dance club. It's located in downtown Denver somewhere in an old brick building. It was the only thing that hadn't been torn down in the neighborhood. The brick building was on the northeast corner of the block surrounded by parking lots. The bottom floor was a restaurant that was split into two parts. The entrance to the building was on the corner. I walked in and on the first floor there was a poetry reading going on. It was dripping with teenage emotion and not pretentious words, but just people that are trying way too hard to be cool. I stood there for a while before going up with the rest of the crowd to the swing dancing on the second floor. I was listening to the people basically trying to rap without music. It literally was the most awkward thing I had ever heard.
"I have a flower
a gray flower
it
is my heart
It is wilting from the sun of your hatred
Sometimes I drive
on the right side of the road
sometimes I don't
Emotions are heavy
Let's have a tickle fight."
I stood and stared at the overweight kid wearing skinny jeans and a polo, a beard, glasses and he had kind of like a fro thing going on. Standing there on stage, the shape of his body looked like an ice cream cone. He definitely was the flavor of sherbet in my mind. After subjecting myself to the most awkward thing on the planet, I couldn't choke down another bite of this ice cream cone and eventually went upstairs for swing dancing.
Yeah, that's right, I can swing dance. Liz was there. We danced a few times. Liz is quite a bit taller than me. I have to stand on my tippy-toes to do some of the spins. That's no lie. But back to the story. Liz and I sat inside Starbucks and caught up. She's a super sweet girl. While we were talking we decided to check out a Rockies game. We got a goat sitter; a place to take LeeRoy and we went to a Rockies game. It was great to hang out with Liz and catch up and share stories. She is a missionary now, well not a missionary, but something like a missionary. She does work for the Gospel and raises support for it. So yeah, I guess she is a missionary. Anyway, it was a great time. The Rockies lost which I am okay with. They lost to the Marlins. Their mascot is a fish. Like, I don't get it. Is the Marlin a wild attacking fish? I don't get it. The Marlins beat the Rockies; sad day. I gotta say, maybe one of the most uncomfortable moments in my life happened at that game. There was the most annoying guy behind me yelling the whole time; totally inappropriate stuff; socially awkward situation. The Marlins hit a home run into our section. A pregnant woman catches the ball and she keeps it. Now in some stadiums there is a tradition. If the guest team hits a home run and a fan catches it, they throw the ball back onto the field out of disgust. You are not allowed to keep it for a souvenir. This guy behind us stands up and starts yelling at this pregnant woman. He starts chanting "Throw it back, throw it back" She doesn't want to throw it back. But this guy won't stop yelling at her. And now he is getting the crowd to start chanting at this woman. Now, I am the most uncomfortable in these situations. She takes the ball and sits down in her seat while everybody is chanting at her and she shakes her head no. In my head I am thinking, at what point do I stand up and say shut up to this guy, leave her alone? I glance back at the lady and I notice an usher coming down to tell this guy to leave her alone and to quiet the crowd. The only problem is that she is a 70 y/o woman and she can hardly yell at all. She comes down the steps to his row and she is saying something, but you can't hear her. I had to do something. So with the emotional courage of five teenage girls, I whip my head around, throw my hands up and yell in my sassiest voice, "come on, leave her alone!" I don't know how effective that was, but I certainly felt more uncomfortable and awkward by the second. As the crowd eventually starts to die down and watch the game again, I definitely have to give up some man cards for not being stronger in the situation.
In situations like that you don't know how much it means, I had a woman send me a letter years after we went to middle school together. I was a single mom, in a unfamiliar state, putting one foot in front of the other and tenuously asserting what my life was going to look like from now on. I was scared, insecure and exhausted. Her letter found me I have no idea how, and spoke to me about how she wanted me to know she never forgot me and how I treated her in school. I remember it like I was an ineffective chubby girl railing at the idiots but to her it was a beacon of goodness. And her letter was my beacon, it recharged my resolve and fed my confidence. I love the beauty as well as the risk in "what goes around comes around".
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