Yesterday, I was lucky enough to wait on a family of nine on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Lakewood. Not only did they run my ass off (the mother said she had worked in a restaurant and “knew how it was”), her daughter made a comment I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at.
“You know a place that’s really beautiful?” She asked. I asked where. “Seattle, Washington.”
“Oh yes, I plan on going up there next year,” I said, turning back to her after stacking their plates.
“Not to visit. To live,” she said. I looked at her quizzically. Was she really pulling the…
“We’re from here. We’re natives,” she said. Her mom looked at her like she had lost her mind. She had pulled the native card.
I didn’t get it till later that she was suggesting I moved because I, like the thousands of people who’ve migrated here, wasn’t from here. Following Colorado news in general, especially Westword opinion posts, there’s a group of stuck-up people from here who have dubbed themselves “Colorado natives.” They have bumper stickers, phone cases, hashtags. ‘Move back,’ they cry to us, thinking about the times when Colorado was wild (still is) and Denver was ghetto. ‘The traffic is just too bad!’ (which is every city in America during rush hour).
My answer for you, lady: Nah. 🙂