Out With the Old and In With the New

Preface. Katie and I moved to Boulder almost 2 years ago, 18 months of which we have resided on good ol' Williams Fork Trail. With our roommate hitting the loto and buying a house, the later of the statement being the only true part, Katie and I have also made the decision to move. Out with Boulder, in with Broomfield. I do not have any pictures of the new place, more to come on that, what I do have is some of our fondest memories while living here on the trail.

Condo Clothes Fire
Ever wake up in the middle of the night with the fire alarm blaring and a hallway filled with smoke, fire men funneling in to see whats going on as you stand in the front "lawn" freezing, only to find out that your 19 year old neighbor decided to light a pile of vintage clothes on fire on the balcony with a bunch of his buddies?

Stewart Throwing My Bike In the Dumpster
A few weeks after we moved in, I had my commuter bike chained to a light post outside. One day when I went out to ride it, it was not there, in lieu of it was our grungy cigarette inhaling, ball scratching (pardon my not so French but it's true, I consistently see him scratching his man-jangles in the courtyard) fill in the blank of a maintenance guy, who not so politely informed me he cut my lock and threw my bike in the dumpster. In my typical fashion, I was polite and asked him if I should have the police come to fill out a report for stolen property...he then asked his fellow maintenance buddy to go get my bike for me. Dick.

Don't Flush Your Condoms
Within the first 24 hours of living here, our crazy landlord stopped by to inform us not to flush condoms down the toilet. Perhaps the creepiest moment of my life...

Drivin' Drunk...Classic
Remember the time the drunk driver drove through the fence in the middle of the night, plowed through 2 parked cars, and preceded to hit an additional 9 in the parking lot before moseying on down the rode? Drivin' drunk...classic!

Elusive Laundry
If you are poor like us, you don't have a washer and dryer. Rather you have a communal laundry facility that everyone abuses to maximum capacity. Sometimes, people take your laundry out of the dryer mid cycle, put them in a laundry basket, and put them about 75 feet down the hallway sitting there sopping wet.

Hot Tub Hookers
My good buddy Ned was in town, and after a hard day on the slopes him, Katie and I hit the communal hot tub. We shared it with some guy named Steve, his seemingly gay partner, and there seemingly for hire women friend. The conversation escalated quickly...they wondered if there were ski lifts at Chautauqua.

The Hallway Smells Like Urine, Cigarettes, and Weed.