That the sticker over the electrical box in my apartment says "We still hang bike thieves in Wyoming."
That the first person I met when I got to town was on their way home from skiing and invited me to drop by anytime.
That the bar across the street from my house has a doorman whose name is John. I know because he was wearing a sweatshirt with a picture of himself on it that said "My name is John."
That the only other cyclist I saw on my ride was an older gentleman with a large gray mustache.
That my house has two bottle openers and a ski waxing bench but no can opener.
That the hotel in town has been "fluffing your pillow since 1978."
That the storm is blowing in so hard I can't tell the difference between falling leaves and falling snow.
That the first person I met when I got to town was on their way home from skiing and invited me to drop by anytime.
That the bar across the street from my house has a doorman whose name is John. I know because he was wearing a sweatshirt with a picture of himself on it that said "My name is John."
That the only other cyclist I saw on my ride was an older gentleman with a large gray mustache.
That my house has two bottle openers and a ski waxing bench but no can opener.
That the hotel in town has been "fluffing your pillow since 1978."
That the storm is blowing in so hard I can't tell the difference between falling leaves and falling snow.
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