We stopped just inside Park City to go to the Loco Lizard restaurant where I had enjoyed some delicious enchiladas a long time ago. I discovered that my memory deceived me, and it wasn't nearly as good as I remembered; however, the service was excellent! Phil, a cool, black guy from New York, was our waiter who liked to poke fun at us while he quickly filled up our drinks and got us our food. We might have left behind a phone number, and that was after we joked about staying at his house tonight because the weather took a turn for the worst and began dumping buckets of snow on us.
Leaving Phil behind, we switched on Bethany's four-wheel drive (thank Goodness she drove!) and headed towards Main Street in Park City. We found prime (read: free) parking from a guy with a grizzly-deepest-voice-you-ever-heard, and hopped on the shuttle.
Sometimes I like taking public transportation. You never know what you are going to find. In this case, it was a bunch of local teenagers using swear words and joking with the middle aged ladies from Denver about getting them to buy them alcohol.
Once we reached Main Street, we headed up the hill, avoiding the small river as the melted snow and slush flowed past us, and did a little window shopping and people watching. While I was lamenting the fact that I didn't buy the waterproof snow boots that I carried around in the store for 30 minutes before putting them back, girls were wearing heels and skirts that barely covered their assets and all sorts of crazy things that are totally inappropriate for a winter festival in the mountains.
One guy who probably thought he was dressing appropriately for the winter was walking around in boots similar to this:
There were way too many smokers, huddling outside the doors and it wasn't the first time that I wished that I carried the gumption to pass out cards that says, "You are much too attractive to be smoking." Other highlights included a drunk girl puking her guts out over a hand rail. There was some security guards carding people trying to get in to the parties. There were no celebrities. One guy was really nice to offer to take our picture for us.
We walked as far up as we could, crossed the street (not really able to avoid the small ponds that were everywhere), and headed back down Main Street. We walked through a few art galleries, which were cool. And we stopped in a fur store. Furs are ridiculously expensive, but it was still fun to pet the foxes and chinchillas that once were. I spent most the time wondering why anyone would pay for such things when there was always the chance that some crazy activists would ruin the darn coat with red paint before you had a chance to get your money's worth.
One of the shopkeepers in the store was walking around wearing his fur coat, inviting everyone to, "Pet my beaver." Once upon a time, I wouldn't have picked up on that joke.
One joke I did pick up on, though, was "THE DUKE."
We continued to head back down, and saw plenty of people to note. The snow was falling heavier, and the streets were getting slushier. Remembering that we had early church, and not having been invited to attend any of the raucous parties, we decided it was time to head home.
Luckily, Bethany is a great driver in the snow. The roads, up until we got to Heber, were terrible, and there is no way my car would have made it. Next year (or next week, if I can) I want to try and get tickets early enough so that I can actually see a movie. There are also awesome people (DAVID GRAY! Ingrid Michealson. All-American Rejects.) performing up there and I kind of wish I weren't working so I could sluff off and go see them.