Funny. Attractive. Not Cool.

If you’re friends with either Hannah or me on Facebook, you probably know that Hann came and spent a weekend with us in Estes this summer. If you didn’t know, check out this SWEET profile picture I took for her while she was here.

I was determined to get a cool photo in the park for her despite my total lack of photography skills. Fuckin’ nailed it.

We walked downtown to get coffee one morning while Abby was working. There were some grey clouds looming over the mountains, so Hann had her raincoat tucked into the crook of her elbow, just in case. Cars and bikers rushed by us as I noticed that the raincoat had disappeared.

“Hey Hann, didn’t you have your rain jacket a second ago?”

Hann looked down. “Oh, shit, yeah,” she said.

We looked back and there it was; a shiny, pink, crumpled lump on the sidewalk about 50 yards behind us. I laughed as she trudged back to pick it up, thinking you loveable idiot. (This is something we call each other a lot.)

Hann flailed her arms as she ran and scooped up her pink, crumpled ball of a raincoat. In the sunshine. As dozens of people drove by us. When she caught back up to me she said something I will never forget.

“I’m just here to remind everyone that, while we are funny and attractive, we are not cool.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

 

 

Have you ever been about to do something and thought to yourself, why the hell are we doing this? Our summer has been made up of those moments. Below are some examples of us being laugh-out-loud funny, devastatingly-attractive, and most certainly not cool.

Espresso shots at work at 10pm, taken like real shots, cheers and all. For no reason.

Ordering a craft beer at the bar, chugging it immediately in front of the bartender, then handing back the empty glass.

Hiking on three hours’ sleep, a little hungover, getting passed by everyone and their grandmother on the trail. Then celebrating with Jameson on the summit.

Jumping in alpine lakes.

Chugging the water pitchers we’re supposed to give to the customers in a fruitless attempt at proper hydration.

Asking for people’s ID’s when they order the beer cheese soup.

Ordering tastes of Coor’s Light while Abby works the bar.

Losing at pool, repeatedly and very publicly, in the only bar in town.

Doing the George Costanza pose everywhere we go.

With only two weeks left out here, it’s time we start reigning in our inner weirdos and prepare to become young professionals again. We’ll get back to you on how that goes.