I don’t see a problem with that (wherein our neighborhood bar is awesome)

There’s something about the interactions we have with strangers in Denver that’s hard to describe. It’s like whatever happens, it’ll inevitably be good.

For instance, this just happened: I walk around the block to our (awesome) neighborhood bar. (Best lamb burger I’ve ever had).

“Hey, I’ve got a weird request.”

That could mean anything, his eyes say. “What’s that?”

“Can you put on Fox Sports 1 at 8:00?”

“… Sure… Why, what’s on?”

“Timbers game. I’m from Portland.” I make a circular motion pointing at the dozen patrons scattered around the small place. “Nobody else here’ll be interested. Like at all.” I want him to know I feel silly asking, so I laugh.

“I don’t see a problem with that. ”


“Sure, man. Nobody else in here’s watching anything.”

“You’re awesome. Thanks!”

Finley’s in Wash Park is the place. (I’ve had like three lamb burgers in my life, ever. But believe me.)