I hate working out, and I hate people who say how much they love working out. To me, working out is a necessary evil — like taxes, dating and menstrual cycles. So when I heard there was a gym called the Anti-Gym, I got excited: I thought working out there…
It’s almost 9 p.m. when I hear Jesse call my battle name, Drewstroyer, from across the room. Immediately feeling sick to my stomach with first-time anxiety, I set down my second can of Olympia and wade through the crowd of fifty or so competitors and spectators. As I take a…
While many people remember their first kiss, I remember the first bar where I ever ordered a beer. Back when I was far too young to drink — legally — my high school gang would spend hours on the Emerald Isle patio overlooking the Cherry Creek Reservoir, our bodies slathered…
“Is this the shithole?” our cabbie — whose name I won’t use because I’m pretty sure he’s driving without the proper licensing — asks as we pull into the parking lot of Music Bar (4586 Tennyson Street). We’re packed four deep in the back seat (with another one in front),…
Every time I walk into Sputnik, I’m reminded of one of my favorite jokes. “Hey, have you heard that joke about hipsters?” “No, what is it?” “Well, of course, you haven’t heard it!” It’s beyond cliche to say that Sputnik is ground zero for hipsters. I’m surprised that instead of…
“Black eyes don’t count,” Mike tells me from three stools over — by which he means, “Black eyes aren’t a big deal.” But from where I’m sitting, the golf-ball-sized swelling surrounding his bloodshot eyes and extending well onto his cheekbones sure looks like a big deal. Combined with his lacerated…
I would have liked living in the 1930s. Big bands headed by Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller, Tommy Dorsey and Count Basie were in their heyday, playing at famous clubs like the Savoy and the Cotton Club. And it was the golden age of luxurious ocean liners:…
I have every intention of drinking on my first trip to Barricuda’s (1078 Ogden Street), but it doesn’t happen. I glance longingly at the beer taps — Swithwicks? No. Guinness? Huh-uh — but can’t talk myself into a cold one. I make eyes at a Bloody Mary two tables over…
Ms. B.J. mumbles an apology to no one in particular because the beer’s not chilled enough, but Sean and I don’t mind. It’s already started to cool off outside, and we’re at B.J.’s Port, 2801 Welton Street, to enjoy ourselves, not complain. So we pour the contents of our first…
Take your best shot. A couple of Saturdays ago, a friend and I headed to the Kiowa Creek Sporting Club in Bennett, site of the Independence Institute’s ATF party, which celebrates alcohol, tobacco and firearms. But not necessarily in that order: Even though I wasn’t driving, I’d been given strict…
It’s never been about slumming. Or kitsch. Or camp. No, Barbara Middlebrook drinks at the Ace-Hi Tavern — a dive bar right down to its shag carpet and cash-only policy — for the same reason that she looks forward to walks down Main Street during breaks from her job at…
Fear of flying. There are a few places in town I’ve always wanted to try, but they don’t seem like the kind of spot a woman should visit alone. And so every time I drove past the Piper Inn, I felt like I’d had my wings clipped. I’d been driving…
Everybody has a really good first bar story. Often it’s a tale about a group celebrating somebody’s 21st birthday by seeing just how close people can get to death and still be fine the next morning. Sometimes it’s a saga about using a bad fake ID to sneak into the…
Wasted youth. When I first walked into Centro, the reconcepting of Cafe Rhumba by Dave Query (who also owns Lola, Jax, West End Tavern and Zolo), I immediately knew that I would like it. Even though the food at Rhumba was far from stellar, I always enjoyed the place: Query…
If you ask a real fisherman, he’ll tell you that walleye is one of the best eating fish. It’s not a particularly pretty fish, but it’s the reason that God made beer, beer batter and Shore Lunch. I’ve never been deep-sea fishing, but fighting a fish while you’re strapped into…
A change will do you good — and the changes taking place in Denver are amazing. Fifteen years ago, La Fiesta tried to expand from its weekday, lunch-only schedule into the evening hours, but it just didn’t work. Back then, the Curtis Park neighborhood was not even approaching a transitional…
There are many unanswered questions in this world. For example, why don’t heavier things fall faster? Why is there any debate about Ward Churchill’s job status? Why didn’t Sanjaya get voted off quicker? Why do I know the name Sanjaya? How do I stop my daughter from reaching puberty? Why…
I’ll trade you the T206 Honus Wagner for a crazy waiter. My friends and I trade bad waiter and waitress stories like baseball cards, and though I will always love Benny’s, the bad waiter stories are so plentiful here that they’re comparable to a no-name Rockies relief pitcher in the…
It isn’t often that I have no desire to go out (though it seems to happen more and more as I “mature”), and the other night was one of those rare occasions when I just wanted to park my butt on the couch, crack open a beer and contemplate religion…
I’m pretty sure it was Albert Einstein who said that matter cannot be created or destroyed — or maybe it was Bill Nye the Science Guy. Either way, at some point in our academic careers, we all learned that this was true sometime, just as we learned that heavier things…
Run, Forrest, run! The only time I run is when someone is chasing me (if then), and perhaps because of my unwillingness to run, I’m fascinated by people who do — particularly the freakish marathon runners. So when my friends suggested that we meet at Mezcal at 6:30 a.m. to…
I imagine that a true baseball fan would be blissful at meeting Babe Ruth’s great-grandson. Politicos probably panic when they’re introduced to a Kennedy scion. Brits blatantly blanch when they see that little convict Prince Harry. So when I met Frederick Booker Noe III, I was speechless. Freddy, as I…
