Sunday biker brunch

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About an hour after I left Durango, Colorado, I started to get peckish. Then I realized it is Sunday so it would be nice to have a little brunch.
The Chimney Rock restaurant looked as good a place as any. As soon as I walked in, the hostess didn’t greet me as much as try to turn me away by saying they don’t have breakfast, they only have two items on the menu, a hog roast or crayfish fettuccine. I told her the hog roast sounds delightful and took a seat.
For shits and giggles I was going to ask her if they use Russian vodka in their Cosmos and, if so, I would prefer a Swedish vodka instead in protest to Putin’s treatment of the LGBT community. I ordered apple juice.
While I ate my dried out pork, which was served in a to-go box, I tried to figure out which of the bikers was the Carrie, which one was the Samantha, which one was the Miranda, and which was the Charlotte. I finally decided I was Samantha, the slutty one, and the rest were … I couldn’t figure it out. Which Sex and the City character was the dirty one with hunting knives and a braided beard? Miranda?
You’ll notice they have a Confederate flag right next to the American flag. What is the real message being conveyed by people who fly Confederate flags? Maybe in The South one could argue it’s recognition of their history (still not great). But when you’re in a former Western territory that joined the Union in 1861, and it is now 2013, it probably just means you’re an out and proud bigot.

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