Wordless

For my last meal in Colorado, my friend took me to breakfast at the Denver Biscuit Company, where we had classic American biscuits (or scones, as the rest of the world calls them) with, in my case, fried chicken, bacon, cheese and sausage gravy. And a side of grits, since I didn’t know what that was and wanted to find out. Verdict: wallpaper paste that benefits from mass additions of salt and cheese.

The biscuit concoctions were tasty but overwhelming. On the plus side, there was bottomless filter coffee, which you served yourself in a collection of charity shop mugs. I chose the one that most spoke to me.

After breakfast I headed out to the airport, still feeling a little anxious about my flights back to Los Angeles. Maybe it was fear of flying and the unknown, but more likely it was just jitters caused by bottomless coffee.

As it turned out, the only thing that disturbed me on my flights was a couple with a small baby sitting a couple of rows in front of me. The baby wasn’t a problem; it was what they were wearing. Both of the adults wore identical shapeless, featureless green tracksuits. I couldn’t shake the impression that they were either coming from a mass cult wedding or going to a mass cult christening.