Mountain View Inn

I decided to get the hell out of Lakewood, Colorado and Colfax Avenue, and settled on nearby Golden, Colorado.
Home of Coors, my favorite right wing swill.


The clerk at The Mountain View Inn was a surly roughneck.
I asked him what there was to do around here.
He mentioned the mall, the Coors brewery, Red Rocks, some dinosaur tracks...
He mentioned the mall again.


I paid from the pouch and asked for a receipt.
He wrote the information by hand on the rind of a cashier's ticket.
It turns out the Mountain View Inn is on Colfax Avenue.
In Lakewood, Colorado.
Can't win in this state.


I decided that I deserved a beer.
Something to watch the distant lightning storm with.
This particular section of Colfax Avenue had very little to offer.
There was a Sinclair.
And a mile down there was a roadhouse.
I cautiously parked by the roadhouse.
In the parking lot, shrill women taunted men from inside cars.
Men stood by their hogs, whispering incoherent gossip.
Bandanas were popular.
Over-produced new country muffled from the upstairs bar.
I started up the gross carpeted stairs, but the music and the hee haws frightened me.
A beer in that environment would be too stressful to be relaxing.
I made an about face and asked a younger dirtbag a question.
"Can I get a six pack here?"
He discussed this with an older roughneck.
It seemed I could not.
The older roughneck groped sloppily at me.
"What do you need?  A beer? A shot?"
His slur was moist.
I wriggled out from his paws and bought a 22 ounce can of Busch from the Sinclair, where a stinky hippie stocked the shelves.

I watched the lightning storm from the shared balcony of the Mountain View Inn.
2nd shift migrant workers hopped out of their pick up truck carpools and into their rooms.
Old guys on bikes ran midnight errands.
A cocaine freak in a sports car pulled up and asked me a flurry of questions.
"What part of Denver is this?  There's a casino over here, right?  How much for a room?"
He wiped his forehead with the tail of his club shirt.
"I don't know, man.  I don't live here."


I drank my horrible beer and wrote about horrible Colorado.

1 comment:

  1. My rightwing college roommate lives in Golden. You're way behind schedule on this trip, man.

    ReplyDelete