Monday, June 21, 2004

Utah is just getting better and better. Not only is the hotel two blocks away from crime alley, but as I type some dumb asses are setting off fireworks. Not the wee bitty bottle-rocket kind, either. The big, booming, shake the floor kind. It's not yet 10 pm local time. I can only hope the pops and booms are punctuated by the screams of the newly-dismembered. I'd get a good night's sleep, then.

Oh, and things aren't just closed on Sunday here. They're closed randomly, with no thought as to businesses making money. At least, that's my perception of it. I went out after work to get something to eat. It was just 4 pm. The place I wanted to go to was closed, as were two of its eatery neighbors. The antique shop was open, as was the gift basket place. Maybe this town thrives on buying old crap and putting it in baskets, and everyone cooks at home. Must be the elevation.

The fireworks stopped. No screaming. Damn.

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