People from out-of-town usually go to Pete's Kitchen or the Denver Diner, both of which have convenient downtown locations, mere blocks away from LoDo and east Colfax. Before I lived in Denver, I have to say I preferred the Denver Diner. Just down the street is the exit to I-25 North, so after getting all hyped up on coffee all I had to do was swing down the road a piece and I was on my way back to my cozy little town of Greeley, Colorado--a stinky mid-sized city with no real buildings or excitement, but a lot of feedlots and cowboys. Once a friend and I went to the Denver Diner fairly late (1 a.m. or so) to catch some late-night waffles. A few tables to my left sat two very serious-looking men in black turtlenecks, seemingly involved in a very intense discussion. Soon, their discussion erupted into arguing, then very loud arguing, and then some chair shoving. A waitress showed up and told them to calm down. They sulked in their chairs a bit, then the arguing began again. Then, more chair shoving. The waitress approached them once more, this time with their plates of eggs. They finally settled down together over breakfast and forgot their troubles, angrily forking eggs benedict into their mouths. Breakfast brings us together, isn't that a nice message? I've only gone to Pete's Kitchen a few times before, most of the time I was so sleepily drunk I couldn't eat, or even drink their foul coffee (it's really gross and bitter). A few months ago my boyfriend and I ate breakfast there. I believe we ordered omelettes. We held hands most of the time we were there, but then dropped our hands by our sides everytime the waitress arrived to refill our coffee. She apologized and told us we may hold hands, she didn't mind. The other night I shared a taxi with two of my friends and some extremely drunk out-of-towner who offered to pay for our cab if we'd share it with him. "I have tons of money, money is no problem," He said to the cabbie, "but.. I don't have a girlfriend," he said to me and my friends. The cab driver told us all about his career impersonating Walter Kronkite and how it ruined his life. Apparently he used to work for a radio station doing impressions of Walter Kronkite, where he'd call up radio listeners and tell ! them they'd won some sort of prize, claiming to be ol' Walt. Once he called up a woman doing his schtick. When she found out he wasn't really Walter Kronkite at all, but some goofy DJ, she gave him the "Ukrainian Curse." After that, he lost everything he owned and his partner disappeared. Now he's a cabbie telling his passengers the same story, sort of like the Ancient Mariner. Doomed to tell the same story to people who will never really care, but instead post it to a list where thousands of people will not care, and not even bother to repeat the story (I am not calling you all apathetic--I just think that if I were reading this post right now, I wouldn't bother). Oh yeah, the cabbie also recommended the drunk guy go to Pete's Kitchen to sober up. The real diner gem of Denver, Colorado is the Breakfast King. Unlike the two aforementioned diners, The Breakfast King is located alongside the interstate, right next to a strip club called "The Paper Tiger" (Where the strippers are rumored to be amputees who shimmy around to Whitesnake.. these rumors must be confirmed, or denied. Any takers?). The Breakfast King requires that their waitresses wear starched white dresses with orange aprons. Most of these waitresses accessorize flamboyantly to make up for their plan uniforms. My favorite waitress at the Breakfast King is Roxy, who likes to wear long spangly (and hopefully holiday-themed) earrings. She calls the girls "baby doll"--she calls boys "sweetheart". When Stevie was visiting, she oohed and aahed over his accent (I think she may have had a crush on him), then gave him free pancakes. All the waitresses at the Breakfast King smoke Benson & Hedges 120's, and sit at a table in the very back and smoke and gossip w! hile they work. At the Breakfast King, during any given moment, there is guaranteed to be a family of four or five, all geared up in flannel and mullets, chainsmoking and eating corned beef hash or t-bone steaks and eggs. It's just so B.K. I love that place, and I eat there completely unironically, even though it may seem the opposite. Hint: the e-mail address of MyMomSays@aol.com may become invalid on or around the date of April 1, 2003. Please cc: all responses to mandeewright@mac.com Flip-flop, Mandee May "inconsolably okay" +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. 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