A night at the Lariat in beautiful Grand Lake, CO.
I met a guy who's going to jail for assault on Tuesday--or not, we were all a bit unclear about what he meant when he started talking about heading out to Arizona. Very friendly. He bought me and my friend a drink. I met a helicopter pilot who promised to buzz my house in a week or so. And I met my husband's apparent stalker. After raving about how hot he is (she's not too far off there) and how great he was for once meeting her and never flirting, she proceeded to berate me about "talking to guys in bars" (even though I was, at the moment, talking to her) and "Don't I know how lucky I am to have a guy like him?"
Um, yeah. After 18 years of marriage, I'm actually pretty well aware.
My friend also told me I'm a lot trashier/sluttier looking now than I was five years ago, and that it's a vast improvement. Not sure where to stash that.
The point of this is Small Town Characters, which I equate with fictional characters who push their boundaries and say and do the unexpected, always. I don't meet people like this where I live most of the time. These are true-blood mountain people, and I'm blessed to have them in my life, even if it's for a few hours in a dirty little bar on a Saturday night.
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