19:17 - Sunday, Jul. 31, 2005
Nick, Camille, and I decided today we wanted to give the B360 (just delete the %20 at the end of the URL and it should show) a try, since for the past couple of days we've just been sitting around on our asses swearing we're going to read children's books aloud to each other or telling ourselves we're going to clean our rooms, bake cookies, study biology, or climb trees. Not many of these things have happened. The B360 might have, but we got lost somewhere around where the blue and the red split off for the first time and had to come back the way we came. Over the hill from 28th street, coming over the bridge, I was in the lead and saw, suddenly, in the park courtyard of the Millenium Hotel, a GIANT BUFFET. There must have been over a hundred people dressed country-casual milling around the two huge tables in the center of the park, alongside which was an enormous tent with a movie screen set up in one corner and balloons spilling from each circular dining table, of which there were about twenty, under the tent. None of this was fenced or roped off. It was just in the middle of the park, surrounded by the Boulder bike path. There were also close to ten cakes, various flavors, scattering the ends of the buffet tables.
We parked our bikes. Casually. I buttoned up my overshirt to change myself from being a party-crasher wearing only a sports bra into a party-crasher wearing a blue overshirt over a sports bra. We stood around in the center of things for awhile, seeing if anyone would notice that we didn't belong there. Nobody did. There were people of all ages there, milling around, sitting in the tent, sitting outside the tent. Stuffing themselves with the mad overabundance of food. Nick was the first to venture over. He came back with a GIANT piece of tiramisu, which we all could not eat with our fingers, so Camille had to sneak into the tent and grab a fork. After that, we were bold about it. We ate two huge plates of cheese-filled ravioli, a plate of spaghetti, a breadstick, three pieces of bread, three peanut butter cookies, a spinach salad, and two more pieces of cake. During that time, a waitress actually came over and gave us ice-filled glasses of water. When we had eaten our fill, we sat back and relaxed, watching the kids around us play train and football. When the host started giving a slideshow inside the tent and everyone went to go watch, we sauntered across the grass, got back on our bikes (I unbuttoned my shirt to make myself a different person again) and rode home. As easy as that.
Alas, though, we were not the slickest people there. One guy with wild unbrushed hair and a beat-up bike that he wheeled around with him rode up the same way we did and then rode off with a HEAPING plate of dinner. He came back 15 minutes later with a take-out bag and filled that up too. After I saw that, I knew there was no way the hosts were paying any attention.
And I am glad to say that no one, because of us helping ourselves, was heard to whine, "There's not enough food for meee!"
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