That One Time In Denver…
In 2020, I decided to stop crying on my birthday about the things that I hadn’t done or accomplished and instead celebrate life. So I go on a trip every year. May ‘22, it was Denver. This was only my second solo trip.
I rented a cute white BMW SUV, and I headed down the road to my hotel, which was about forty minutes from the airport. I showered, got dressed and headed downstairs to the hotel restaurant, Famille.
Famille had me in a chokehold the entire vacation! I was in there every day, sometimes twice a day. It was convenient, their food was great; literally everything I had there was good. The restaurant is so aesthetically pleasing, it could’ve been a tv set. Just sitting there, I felt like I was on a tv show waiting to have lunch with my long lost lover who’s contemplating leaving his wife for me. I mean, it was amazing. Just look..
The next day, I headed to Golden, CO. Not before having breakfast at Famille, of course. It was about a 20 minute drive, which wasn’t bad to me because living in the outskirts of Atlanta, I’ve been conditioned to expect a 40 minute drive anywhere.
I walked a long streets of little shops, walked in a few, then I came across some license plate art spelling out “PEACE”, a word I’d associate with my Gran-E. She’d say it to end a conversation, she had bags and would wear clothing with peace signs. So, anytime I see it, I associate it to her speaking to me from beyond this realm. I had to have it.
This is where I first started getting the inkling that I might’ve been the only black person in Colorado. Everywhere I went, I saw NOBODY that looked like me. As always, I was on the phone with my auntie, whom I religiously call throughout my solo trips. She (unsurprisingly) perpetuated the idea, advising me to keep my eyes open and be aware, and suddenly a statue of a man fishing started looking vaguely like a slaveowner cracking a whip! I figured I needed to get back to my side of town before the sun went down.
I made it back to my hotel, ordered UberEats that night and had chicken katsu and spam musubi for the first time. The chicken katsu went crazy. Paired with the rice and the slaw, it was great. The musubi is.. an aquired taste.
The clock struck twelve and it was my birthday! The last year of my twenties.
My best friend called me singing the National Anthem?? lmao, to wish me a happy birthday.
I had one of my favorites for my birthday breakfast at Famille: a bagel with cream cheese, lox, and capers.
I had tickets to an art installation, Meow Wolf. I had been to the Meow Wolf Omega Mart in Vegas, so I knew to expect the unexpected. It’s basically a collection of weird art, sometimes interactive. It’s cool to see.
There was artwork projected on the walls and floors that moved along with you.
There was a room full of.. wait, look..
When I finished at the exhibit it was snowing! Which was crazy because one, I’m a Georgia girl, okay, I don’t belong in the snow! One snowflake sticks to the ground and the city is shut DOWN. And two, the day before, I had on shorts!
I don’t think I have ever packed so perfectly for a trip than this one. I had shorts and sweaters. A coat and sandals. Whatever weather Denver threw at me, my outfit was ready.
Going to D.C. and SF, I really ignored the forecast and just packed for my vibe. I don’t care if it’s cold, I’m on vacation! That resulted in me purchasing warmer clothes and a coat.
I had a slice of bar cake at Famille, this time with a candle to celebrate my 29th year. I was scared to drive, because again, Taylor and snow is a no go. I stayed in, ordered some snacks on UberEats and relaxed for the rest of my night.
The next morning, I had breakfast at.. you guessed it, Famille. I finally visited the bookstore that was attached to the hotel, Tattered Cover, which was again like a tv set. It was the quintessential moody bookstore: cozy, serving coffee and pastries to be enjoyed on sofas nestled in between shelves of books.
I took my obligatory latte photo, then headed to the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver.
I was really underwhelmed with the museum, but I was comparing it to the High in Atlanta or a Smithsonian. Maybe the lesson there was to appreciate things as they are, not in comparison.
I did purchase a Venus de Milo statue at the museum store, which is important because I’ve always wanted to be one of those people that have a home filled with knick knacks from their travels.
The next day, I had this bright idea to make an hour drive to Colorado Springs in the SNOW and ICE to get to… Whataburger. We already established that Taylor, GA peach, does not belong in the snow!
But hear me out: this was before GA got Whataburger and I like their honey butter chicken biscuits; my sister put me on when I spent the summer with her in OKC. So, every time I visit a state with a Whataburger, I stop and get a honey butter chicken biscuit.
While writing this, I’m making the connection that maybe I’m subconsciously recreating the memory to feel closer to my sister and that memorable summer.
The drive was treacherous and the biscuit wasn’t as good as I remembered, but I think I was meant to take that drive.
I didn’t want to feel like I drove an hour for mid food, so I looked to see what was around and ended up at a line of shops. The scene was so beautiful, it was almost like a dream.
I’m walking down the sidewalk, which had been cleared of yesterday’s snow. Light jazz playing, a gorgeous view of the snow capped mountains. I dipped in and out of stores, perusing like the lady of leisure I aspire to be! It was so perfect.. it could’ve… been a TV set. It was giving Gilmore Girls.
I’m a shopper, but walking down a strip of stores, I didn’t buy anything. I just appreciated the peacefulness and tranquility of that moment. I felt happy, at peace, excited, comfortable, all the positive emotions there are to feel. I cried tears of happiness and gratefulness on this trip.
I don’t know if my inability to trust the intentions of compliments is attributed to not believing I’m adequate as I am, or that people actually like me and want to be around me, but I receive at compliments with trepidation sometimes. Like, do you really mean your compliment, or are you being shady? It didn't help that throughout this trip, people that don’t look like me complimented me on various things, saying I looked “colorful” and asking how long my braids took.
In this moment, my suspicion of receiving backhanded compliments was lifted. I accepted that maybe I’m just fly.
Maybe it was cool that my glasses matched my shoes.
I love the coat I have on, so why can’t others like it too?
That sweater I had on was kinda cute, huh?
I made the decision to shed those negative feelings, stop being afraid to step into the spotlight, and instead embrace it. It was a transformative experience.
I also saw the other three black people in Colorado while in Colorado Springs.
The next day, it was time to go home. My flight was later in the day, so I had breakfast at…. Famille! You already know the vibes lol. I had to go back just one last time.
I window shopped at the mall to pass some time before my flight. I tried a mangonada at the food court and while the drink was pretty and looked refreshing, I realized I’m not a fan of chamoy.
I decided to exit the mall a different way than I came in and I was met with a message painted on the stairs that I truly believe was from my parents: “you are not alone”.
Once I made it to the airport, I visited a Centurion lounge for the first time. I was underwhelmed in comparison to the Delta Sky Lounge, so I left the Centurion and went to the Sky Lounge. Purr. 💅🏽
