Time for an update

We left Albuquerque and headed for Denver. It was a smooth ride, as the radio traffic update assured us it would be. We were actually blown away that radio traffic updates still exist. Who actually listens to those? It’s much easier to use Google Maps and get updates in real-time.

Here’s how every modern-day radio traffic update should sound

“Hi, it’s Kevin with the traffic update. We’ve got an accident on I-30 Westbound, be prepared for some stoppage. With the extra time in your car, make sure to buy a smartphone you geriatric fuck. Go ahead and join this century you Bengay wearing turd. Your grandchildren are dead and no one loves you. I’m Kevin with the traffic update”.

Don’t blow your gasket

The ride was going great until our radiator hose blew. It was Pittsburgh all over again.  We began losing acceleration on a stretch of highway where everyone was blowing by at 90 mph. The van limped along to the next exit.

The closest exit was just past Las Vegas. Not Las Vegas, Nevada, mind you. We’re talking about glamorous Las Vegas, New Mexico!

The town occupied a dirt road that spanned maybe 200 yards, tops. The first resident we saw zoomed past on a 4-wheeler, shirtless, with a dog perched precariously atop the gas tank. Bouncing and kicking up dust clouds, every pothole nearly launched the little pooch from the ATV into the next life.

Do I know you?

This was the type of small town where everyone knows everyone. As soon as we pulled up to the junkyard, a woman watering her garden hollered “You looking for Tom? His house is right there” and motioned toward a building encircled by weatherbeaten cars and scrap metal.

Before we could reach the porch, another townsperson yelled “Tom is out! But me and my boy can fix your vehicle!” It had only been three minutes and the entire population was already aware of our presence.

The mechanic was a nice guy but very much a doom and gloom type. Every talking point circled back to death. We started “Thanks for fixing this, there aren’t many towns around” and he was like “Yeah, it’s good you were close. Wouldn’t want to get stuck and starve to death”.

When we tried to talk about how beautiful the scenery was, he replied “Yeah, but you’re lucky there weren’t any elk on the road. Out here, people get killed all the time hitting elk”. We kept trying to steer the topic away from death, but he was an expert at bringing it back. Whenever we zigged, he zagged. It kept going round and round

We tried to steer the conversation toward Las Vegas in a last ditch effort to change the subject. We asked what people do for fun there, and he said “Oh, there’s plenty things for young people to do. A lot of college students party and get killed driving home drunk. The roads really curve and they veer off”.

Realizing we’d never turn the topic, we settled the check as soon as we could and left. We wanted to get outta there before we became the next casualties.

Rocky mountain high

We’re not really ‘pot guys’ but we wanted to check out what the dispensaries in Denver had to offer. Unfortunately, the unexpected pit-stop ate a good chunk of the day and left us essentially no time to reach Denver. We ended up stopping in Pueblo for the night and got to a dispensary just before closing time.

The guy working the counter was the only dude who looked more hipster than Dan, which is no easy feat. With a manbun, beard, and black-rimmed glasses, Dans hipsterness is inception level; he’s like a barber inside a baristo inside a yoga instructor.

The guy was extremely knowledgeable. He explained the differences between indica, sativa, and all the other shit we’re clueless about.  We decided to buy edible gummies, chocolates, and drinks because we can’t get those things in PA (legally). From there, we went to Planet Fitness.

Edibles take longer to kick in, so Dan ate a few gummies before working out. I was on the phone and couldn’t join until later. By the time I entered the gym, I expected to see Dan whacked out of his gourd and trying to curl the leg press. To my surprise, he looked absolutely fine. He was perfectly lucid and said he didn’t feel anything. He then went to shower, and I began my workout.

I headed back to the van about an hour later to find Dan melted into the couch and marveling at the vans roof. Hearing the door slide open, he turned his head at a glacial pace to meet my gaze.

I’d never seen anyone that high. His eyes were so red and puffy I thought he had been maced. His speech was slow and garbled. With swollen eyes and mumbling speech combined, he looked and sounded like Rocky.

I joined Dan in eating a few gummies. I was worried that I wouldn’t get high, as I had tried edibles before to no result. The guy at the shop even told us that 10% of the population can’t get high from eating pot, but luckily I didn’t fall into that group. Within an hour of ingestion I had begun to touch eternity. An hour after that, I was already passed out.

Denver, finally

We arrived in Denver the following morning. There’s something energizing about living in a city surrounded by mountains. It just makes you feel good. The scenery in Denver is beautiful and the hiking is unreal. The weather is also supposed to be great. All the locals boast Denver has 300 days of sunshine. Our luck with the weather was … not great, to put it mildly, but we’ll get to that.

The show

The show was pretty unremarkable -- just a standard ol’ bar mic. We got busy in Albuquerque and didn’t bother reaching out to any Denver hosts beforehand to ask about showcases.  We tried out new material, though, so it was all good. A fellow comic told us about a second mic that night, but it was a school night and a bit past our bedtimes.

We planned to leave the following day, but a blizzard rolled into this ‘city that never rains’. They called it a ‘bomb cyclone’. We understand sensationalizing in order to attract viewers, but bomb cyclone is a bit much. It’s gonna scare the shit out of old people. “We’ve got a bomb cyclone, followed by a rain grenade and wind rape.

We decided to get a hotel for the night and wait out the storm. With time to kill a bucket of leftover edibles, we settled in for a weird night. When the weather cleared up, we headed West for Salt Lake City.