Lunch and Monkey Business at Colorado Springs

At Colorado Springs KOA...

We never know what any day will bring, but we always anticipate a good time when we meet up with friends Ed and Marilyn. Mutual friends Bob and Janet tagged along with them for lunch today, and their presence just added to the merriment. We met at the English Dockside Seafood Restaurant in Old Colorado Springs, where we had a really good lunch and got caught up with each other's meanderings.

Sandy, Janet, Bob, Ed and Marilyn

After we ate, we followed our friends out to their summer digs at Mountain Dale RV Resort south of Colorado Springs on highway 115. It's easy to see why they spend summers here; the place is beautiful, and especially so today after the mountain showers had freshened the trees and landscaping. The temperature was in the sixties, and we felt almost smug that we were here rather than in Texas today. We gathered once again in Ed and Marilyn's Mobile Suites fiver to enjoy some lemon merengue pie that Sandy had made earlier in the day, knowing it is Ed's favorite. Here's a photo of the pie as it came out of the oven:

 

 



We all sat around eating pie (it was delicious), but not before Ed had made noises of disapproval about the size of the portions that were being served. I think he was suggesting smaller sizes for everyone except himself. When Bob declined to take a slice, Ed smiled broadly, but the rest of us were worried that Bob may have stopped his therapy too early. That's just not normal.

As always happens with this bunch, we laughed a lot and, for the guys, it was open season for the disparagement of everything from our age and looks to Ed's and my flying skills which, of course, should never be open to question. This was nothing new, of course, and I would be worried if we didn't get to slam each other a bit. Bob even had the nerve to take sides with Sandy in one of her ravings about the qualities of different kinds of ice in beverages. I have warned him before about talking to women; it's like taking a cap pistol to a gunfight.

We soon said our goodbyes, feeling good about having had a visit with these good friends.

After a little rest, we decided we wanted a hamburger, so we stopped at the Green Line Grill, a highly-recommended burger joint. When we arrived, we found it pretty much a dive, but we've found some of the best food in such places, so that didn't deter us. We weren't disappointed; both of us had their signature onion burger and hand cut seasoned fries. Both were delicious, for sure. Take a look:

We had read in some of the reviews about the "vibe" of this place, but we didn't notice anything peculiar in this tiny place with only five tables. Before long, however, some additional patrons strolled in, and we started to understand about the "vibe." 

This young man certainly made a personal grooming statement:

Now far be it from me to judge people based on their hairstyle. I merely wondered how I would look if I had enough hair to do this.

A few minutes later a gentleman walked in and sat at the counter on a stool very close to our booth. After placing his order, he turned around and, without solicitation from us, began a soliloquy about a breed of goats whose bleating sounds much like a human scream. He then demonstrated the sound in a loud voice, causing the rest of the customers to look up from their meals and causing a bite of my onion burger to become quite lodged in my gullet in the approximate area of my larynx. Sandy jumped, and her eyes quickly darted around the room, as if she were sizing up all the potential exits. Perhaps it was Sandy's reaction or the increasingly blue tint of my face, but he soon turned around and apologized to the red-faced manager for scaring the customers. Thankfully, a quick cough dislodged my onion burger cud, and things quickly returned to normal. Or so I thought.

After a few minutes, a young lady strolled in and sat down beside the goat impressionist. She was rather unremarkable except for her attire or, rather, what little of it there was. To say that she may have been underdressed for the cold and rainy 61-degree weather outside was an understatement. She engaged the man in a conversation, the details of which were inaudible, but it appeared some kind of negotiation was being discussed. He eventually shook his head decidedly, and she took a few bites of his french fries and walked out of the restaurant. Now I'm not speculating about the meaning of that encounter; I report, you decide. What I do know is that this was one of the more memorable restaurant meals we've had in a long time.

On our way back to the KOA, I stopped to get some gas in Mae and noticed an unusual fifth wheel parked nearby. There was no one attending the vehicle, so I couldn't ask anyone about it. I took this photo, but I still can't imagine what this configuration might be:

What a day! Like I said, you never know what any day will bring, but as Ed always signs off, "Life is good!"

Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful life; please forgive me if I do not appreciate it enough each day.