We only cheat tourists and drunks: Durango

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There is a special place in my heart for Durango.

We arrived on 14th September 2015. I know this, because it was my birthday.

The picturesque town greeted us with scenic views of mountains and woodlands. And the steam trains made us feel like we had stepped back in time.

The weather was still warm so we weren’t graced with snow clad mountains, but the blue skies and beaming sun were a welcome substitute.

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We strolled through the town with beaming smiles, admiring the character and spirit of the little isolated town. All the little independent stores and cafes made me fall deeper in love. It was the perfect example of small-town America.

Small. Town. America..

We spotted a quirky little bar and decided it would be a good spot for dinner. A sign  in the window suggested that it was ‘home to the best burger in town’.

A bold claim, but we were willing to give it a try.

We approached the bar, ordered two bottles of bud light and began my birthday celebrations.

The drinking continued until about 7.00pm when we were seated at a table for 2 in the garden. The tables were full and I couldn’t help but notice all eyes were pointing in our direction.

Convincing myself I was being paranoid – or that I must still look super hot for a 27 year old – we ordered our burgers and another couple of beers.

The waitress gave us a polite, somewhat forced, smile and turned away to go and fetch our drinks.

It was only when she had her back to me I saw what was on her t-shirt.

‘We only cheat tourists and drunks’

I grabbed my husbands arm.

“Oh my God Steve, look at her shirt. We are both of those things!”

She came back over with our drinks and I was super appreciative. Over the top doesn’t really do it justice. I was borderline hysterical.

I have an uncontrollable need to please people and the thought of being unwelcome somewhere is torture for me.

I must of used the words ‘amazing’, ‘awesome’ and ‘fantastic’ a hundred times each. Although, I wasn’t really helping our cause. We were tourists. And we had had a few beers. No amount of brown-nosing was going to change that! I should have just been grateful that we weren’t turned away in the first place.

I then began to contemplate that, maybe, all the people in the garden knew each other. We were outsiders and must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Monday was beer and burger night for the locals.

We were intruding on their evening. And their town.

We finished our meals, studied the bill (until we were sure it was correct..) and said our goodbyes.

We thanked our waitress for the millionth time and left a hefty tip.

“I’m sure their t-shirts are a joke, right?”

“Yeah, they must be,”

Either way, I love Durango. Even if Durango doesn’t love me.


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