When you don't have kids with you to push elevator buttons and you are sans bickering over who pushes it and when you don't tend to stare at the floor numbers as they go past...you exit the elevator prematurely.
When you are kidless your brain doesn't function the same way.
When the elevator stops, your kidless brain says, "get out..."
...even if it's not your floor.
I might have done that once or seven times.
Steve had to keep calling me back into the elevator because I
clearly fail at looking at the light up indicator of our whereabouts.
I blame it on being with less oxygen in my brain.
Remember, it's a mile high.
Forget the fact that in my town I regularly travel up the hill towards Shaver/Huntington that sits at an elevation of 5,500 feet. The air doesn't seem to bother me there...but here the air was obviously less.
My airport/coffee selfie.
After a solo flight to Denver and a cringe-worthy Super-Shuttle van ride to the hotel, I was more than ready for this delightful libation that Steve had already researched and picked out for me.
This drink is called
We ordered the burger sliders so we could try a few different ones out.
I had THE DURANGO and the BAHN MI, Steve ordered the 5280 PRIME and the BUFFALO CHICKEN.
This food coma might have been the reason I didn't know what floor on which to exit.