Dateless in Denver: It's All Downhill From Here

At the start of the summer, in anticipation of all those hot times ahead, we shared a string of articles about dating in Denver, including a cover piece that explored "Why Dating in Denver Is a Dumpster Fire."

Then, because misery loves company, we introduced "Dateless in Denver," a series of reader essays on the realities of dating in Denver — the good, the bad and the ugly — that most recently shared an account of how a hiking date wound up going in circles. Now, with snow falling in the mountains, we're offering John's saga of a ski date gone wrong:
I met a lady on Match, and we agreed on a quick meet-and-greet. We met for dinner, had a conversation (she told me about how great she was on skis), and decided we'd go skiing the following day. She wanted to go to Vail, since she had a pass. I had a Winter Park pass but hadn't been to Vail that season, so we agreed an early start (6 a.m.) would be smart, and she'd come over to my place on the way out. (I lived in Littleton.)

It was the weekend of Daylight Saving Time ending, so when 6 a.m. came and went, I called her. First couple of calls, there wasn't an answer. Around 7 she called and apologized, saying she forgot it was Daylight Saving weekend. She finally arrived at 8:30 and said we should take her car since everything of hers was loaded. I loaded my gear, and away we went.

As we got on I-70, I noticed her windshield wipers were in tatters. The day before, the mountains had gotten quite a bit of snow, and as we got to Floyd Hill, we hit the crud on the highway. Her wipers were worse than useless, as all they did was smear the windshield. By the time we got to the tunnel before Idaho Springs, she ran out of windshield fluid. We had to stop so I could throw snow on the windshield to clear the crud. We stopped in Idaho Springs, and I bought her windshield fluid (they didn't have her blades).

We were nearing the exit to WP, it was 10 a.m. (traffic), so I suggested we go to WP and I'd buy her ticket. She lost her temper, hitting her steering wheel, cursing at me, and swearing she knew I'd do this (don't know why...other than logic). So I calmed her down (honestly thought she would take a swing at me...lol), and we continued to Vail. We got there at 11:30.

I bought my ticket (not a nice price for a half-day of skiing), got on the lift, and headed to a run she said was her favorite. It was a bump run (black, but really not that bad), but conditions were unusual: There was about 8" of heavier powder on top of a layer of ice. As soon as I entered the run, I could feel the ice as I'd cut into the turns. So I kept my turns very brief, switching edges quickly, and let the powder and bumps help slow me. I got about 3/4 of the way down the first bump section, so I stopped to see where she was. She was still at the top of the run, picking herself off of the snow after falling. She ended up falling about a half-dozen times, and even threw her equipment at one point, walking down to retrieve her skis.

The rest of the day didn't go well for her, as she continued to struggle with the conditions. (I was fine with them...the bowls were actually really good.) She was really mad, and she kept turning her anger toward me. On our way home, she told me a story about how another date of hers didn't go well. According to her, they agreed to climb Mount Evans, and she didn't bring enough water. She said she got tired, ran out of water on the way up, and her date left her to summit, taking his water with him. I had to silently chuckle.

She calmed by the time we reached home, and surprisingly, as I got my equipment out of her SUV, she asked if I'd like to see her again. I turned to her, smiling, and said, "Nope!"

Have a dating story — good or bad — that you'd like to share? An essay on the scene in general? We'll be running another installment of "Dateless in Denver" next weekend. Send your submission to [email protected], where you can also comment on previous posts.