When my co-worker of five years Todd said he was headed to Boston’s Gourmet Pizza for lunch and offered to share his gift card I thought “Uh oh, a possibly enjoyable change in my rigid schedule”. Todd, myself, and Miles, (my other co-worker of five years), piled into Mile’s car and drove to Highlands Ranch, Colorado. Once again props to Miles for driving, since Todd has a two seat truck and I ride my bike to work.
A Denver suburb sporting arterials the width rivers and seemingly unreachable scenic vistas, Highlands Ranch has all the originality and character of a church basement board room. I realize it’s passe to bash the ‘burbs, but when I leave my urban utopia downtown I’m still baffled at the way other people live. The endless sea of parking lots housing the big box stores that repeat themselves every ten miles. The landscape is a mirage with oversize bright letters thrown up on the tan and yellow boxes, and the mountains in the background tease you, reminding you that someone is out there hiking or kayaking while you’re trying to park. I’ll take a homeless guy with a bottle near my 7-11 over bored latchkey teenagers any day. Which do you think is more dangerous? So milk is a dollar more at the small independent market? I’m happy to pay it.
Boston’s was sandwiched between a Rock Bottom Brewery, Village Inn, and several other chain restaurants. Since the staff and us were the only living entities inside, it was obvious this Boston’s was there to serve the role of “evening place for the family”, rather than “bustling mid day place for lunch”.
