It seems that I’m here as a lone representative for single Denver (since most of my fellow bloggers here appear to be hitched). Well, I hope to make my own little documented contribution to the Denver dating scene story. And to other much more interesting topics. Like Denver opthamologists, vending machine distribution patterns, and oh…that ever interesting subject, the weather. (Actually, as weather-related conversations have crept up to account for 99% of all retailer-customer conversation, I no longer feel the need to cover what has already been so thoroughly explored.)

So, I’ve been dating in Denver for just under a year. And recently I started to lose my appetite. I just couldn’t stomach another romantic resume exchange at Tommy’s Thai. Or a psychological reconnaissance mission with the purpose of assessing my innocent date’s hidden (or not) flaws over muddy cups of joe at St. Marks. Or heading out, shod in those Yak Trax miracles, over hill and dale with some weird stranger in tow. I don’t like what dating has done to me. I don’t like that my gagging reflex has been trained to activate whenever I have to figure out the staging for the next minor tragedy. “Shall we meet at 7? 8? What bars/coffee shops/restaurants do you like? Oh, you’re vegetarian? Okay, we’ll avoid Morton’s then…” Oiy. I don’t like that I’ve become a collector of flaws. That “my time is precious” and so I better figure out what’s wrong with Joe/Bob/Ron as quickly as possible so that I can move on to Max/Greg/Omar. I should say, it’s not all as bad as I’m making it out to be. I’m not riding a perpetual wave of dating induced nausea. It’s just that sometimes, high velocity dating feels a little, um… hollow.

So, with a recent internet dating contact, when I deemed it time to move from our on-screen repartee to an in-person encounter, I thought, FUCK! I am not going in for the same old shit this time. I need something new. (Okay, now I’m finally getting to the reason I’ve dragged you through my dating woes.) The National Western Stock Show! The perfect date staging ground! Yes, that ten-gallon hat of an event where you can see sheep sheering, dancing horses, jumping bulldogs, poet cowboys, mariachi, and something that goes by the intriguing name – “The Death Jump.” You can examine Miniature Herefords, or any of the other 20 bovine breeds at “the super-bowl of cattle shows.” You can see yaks and eat them too at the Yak meat sampling table. Now, I won’t say that this event does not offer up its share of disturbing sights, sounds, and smells. It does. But shit, it’s not Tommy’s Thai! It’s not the same old same-old. And, I have to admit that as a New Yorker turned Coloradoan, it’s a little friggin’ bizarre, which is why this is my number one choice for a place to take a date these days. You will have something to talk about or, at the very least, you will be able to share a stunned silence after listening to yet another joke about gay cowboys or the old ball’n’chain. And when will you get the chance to impress your date with such a unique destination? Well, it seems you won’t get the chance until this time next year. Today is the last day of the event. At sundown this eve I guess all them cowboys and girls will hit the dusty trail…or perhaps they’ll just hit the ice rutted roads in their Ford pickups and head for the highway.