A Weird Conversation In Manitou

These are the kinds of conversations I get into in Manitou.

There I was, minding my own business. Then someone came up to me and asked me what I thought about evolution. I said, I didn't know or really care.

Then, the person said something to the effect of: "Well, I believe in it. But this ape stuff is bologna. We actually came from chickens."

"Uh-huh. I ... wait. What?"

The person in question began to explain to me his theory on how we actually evolved from chickens. I tried to disprove it, but the longer we talked, the more confused I became and I ended up beginning to agree that, yes, we must have evolved from chickens. We used to have beaks and we laid eggs. There was no way we came from apes, because that just doesn't make nearly as much sense as coming from chickens ... right? Uh, cheep.

Tourists in Summer

Here in Manitou Springs...wait. Let me start over. Anyplace tourists can be found is always a delightful place to people-watch. Here, great swarms of Harley Davidson's and SUV's cover the town. Out pop these families that smell like cotton candy and sunscreen, wearing jeans and 'COLORADO' t-shirts. Strolling in their little sandals and pulling incongruous amounts of money and candy wrappers out of their fanny packs. Too busy looking at an old building to watch where they are going, ending up falling on their faces.

You've gotta love 'em. In fact, I have heard numerous stories of fellow Manitoids (that is what we're called)having a little bit of fun with the camera-wielders. Some like to trip the tourists, some like to give phony directions, some like to give them tastes of Iron Springs just to watch them spit and gag.

Hope this stuff doesn't turn all you tourists off out there. The majority of locals will actually help you out if you need it. Tourism is our main business. It is what gives us the money to actually survive the rest of the year.

If you are a tourist, but want to fit in, here is my advice:
Get yourself some nice dreadlocks. Find an old, dirty, tie-dye shirt with holes in it and a pair of too-big, dirty pants with holes in the knees. Put these on. Grow your fingernails long and let dirt collect underneath. Find yourself some old, worn-in, worn-out pair of All-Star sneakers. Wear them.

Or you could do what I do: dress weird in any which way. No matter what, if you dress weird, you will probably fit in OK.