Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

Today is one of those days in the life of a writer that really don’t make much sense. I’m headed down to the mall to wrap up a story on the Da Vinci Machines exhibit for a local magazine. After which, I plan to spend the day researching dumpster diving for the street magazine. Da Vinci and Dumpster Diving. Hmmmmm. What should I pack for lunch?
The DaVinci exhibit was nice and easy, and I stopped for a 2 dollar hot dog meal on the mall. The old man who sells them I believe is German. He’s always very pleasant, although I never understand a word he says. His hot dogs are tasty, his buns are always soft and warm, and his Diet Pepsi’s cold. Add chips and a smile for two bucks and you have the perfect mall meal.
With my belly full, I headed out to lurk around in the alleyways of Denver. There were dozens of them along the mall alone, and it seemed like an easy enough task. Bad idea. I gripped my pepper-spray and tried to hold my breath to keep the extreme smell of urine at bay, and tried not to look too scared as I realized I was alone, with the exception of five men milling about in two groups. It was kind of like when you’re driving through a snowstorm and you realize you should have turned around, or better yet, not started out in a storm at all. The men didn’t say anything to me, and maybe it was just the surroundings and the feeling of isolation, but I quickly retreated back where I had come from—the mall. I scolded myself all the way up 17th and into my apartment, where I decided to spend the afternoon researching Dumpster diving on the internet…while watching Deadliest Catch.

April 17, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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