new york city!

That really chops my hide!
Remember that comercial? About how some other salsa was made in NYC, and Pace Picante was made in San Antonio, thereby solidifying its claim that Pace's spice was more legit? Well, I thought I'd spice up my blog a little bit with some more incriminating stories, and I'm motivated to prove that my spice is from a real spicy place. Like San Antone.
Also, it's taken me a little bit to get into the swing of things. I started this blog when I was totally sick in bed, and I had some time when all I could do was suffer a crippling cold and lay in bed with my computer. Now, things are getting a little more familiar, and I'm a little more practiced with this whole "consistently writing" thing.

Anyway, back to spice.
There is an old, lingering plan my buddy Rob, the garlic doctor, and I have about the Asshole of the Week. We first thought about it in reference to the Boulder Rock Club (BRC) and all the shit-brains that place attracts. If you live in Boulder, you know. If you don't, just imagine a magnet where all of the washed up losers and young wanna be losers congregate. You can pick what category Rob and I fall into.
The competition for Asshole of the Week is pretty tough, but fortunately it's an informal award given out with alarming regularity, so there's plenty of glory to share. Even though there are tales to be told about The Dumb Ass Who Wears Kids Clothes Even Though He Is A Grown Man, Team Eating Disorder, Count Dooku (thus named b/c he looks just like Christoper Lee in Star Wars), and any number of other idiots, I'd like to talk about George and Karen. Let's call them Team Grump.
Team Grump can climb hard. They spend the summer at Rifle, and I know George can send 5.14. But getting either one of them to acknowledge anyone outside of their trusted circle of grumpy friends is a goddamn mathematical impossibility. They must be at the BRC
all the time, because every time I'm there, I see them. And every time I see them, Karen has this scowl on her face and won't say a word. Never smiling, never chatting. Apparently she is furious because she lives in one of the nicest cities in the world and gets to do the activity that she purports to like nearly every day. If I had such a rough life, I'd probably be a hater, too. She must be infectious, because George never smiles either, never talks, and just gets grumpy when he doesn't send his route. Ok, fine. They're grumpy.
I was at another climbing gym the other day down in Denver so I could climb with my buddy Eli who lives down there. Who do I see when I go in but Team Grump! The place is nearly empty, so it isn't like they lost me in the throng when I came in. We made eye contact and I smiled in recognition, but got nothing back but blank stares.
A few minutes later, I was walking past them and decided to just make a sacrifice and say hello. "Getting out of the BRC, huh?"
George answered the he had to get a workout in, but he should have been outside.
"Yeah, but it's still kind of cold outside. Spring's coming, though."
George told me the routes were harder at this new gym, so we couldn't climb as hard. "At least a letter grade." Again, he seemed to only see the negative. I don't know what Karen could see, 'cause at this point she had yet to say a word to either of us.
I told them to have a good one, and went on my way.

Later in the day, George and I found ourselves on adjacent routes, both having just fallen and hanging on the rope, resting while our belayers took our respective weight. George actually made conversation, and for a moment, I thought we had a breakthrough!
He asked "had I been on the white 13-?"
I said I hadn't.
"Well, this one is way harder."
I told him, "Yeah, the routes are harder here." And in a moment of self deprecating humor combined with an acknowledgment that the grades at the BRC might be soft , I told him, "I've been climbing at the BRC all winter. I was ready to get to Rifle and really crush it, but I guess I'm not as strong as I thought."
His straight faced response? "You're not."
Well ok then.

There was no moment of breakthrough with Team Grump. There is only the recognition that for now, they are the ruling Assholes of the week.

As a quick side note, I later watched George try to lay Karen flat out on her ass when he pulled a rope out from under her feet. Try to envision a cartoon where a rug gets pulled out from someone's feet and they go cartwheeling into the abyss. If you're willing to drop your girlfriend because you are too much of a dick to ask her to lift her foot, you totally qualify for the award.