In the cult classic, Road House, Patrick Swayze is a bouncer donning a mullet, a lethal roundhouse kick, and a penchant for doing yoga immediately after ripping out the bad guy’s throat. So, driving up to The Redwood Saloon, I more or less expected to see Flagstaff’s version of Mr. Swayze kicking ass and taking names while bikers, their girls, and Al Pacino-style drug lords mingled over a friendly game of illegal gambling. I would then politely excuse myself to the bathroom where I would quickly barricade myself in a stall while evaluating what poor decisions led me to this precise moment in my life. carry on »
“Memoirs of a Life Virgin” is a column designed to inform readers about various experiences in Flagstaff, delivered from the viewpoint of someone who is (pathetically) partaking for the first time. See how it worked out for me last time.
For this week’s special report, I take you into the dark, seedy underground world that is Flagstaff CrossFit. I put life and limb on the line so you can discover the important truths hidden behind the veil, and help you answer questions such as “Is CrossFit in Flagstaff right for you?” and “Will a CrossFit membership be worth selling my children?”
Will I come out the other side a changed man? Or will I come out at all? No spoilers. Keep reading. carry on »
It’s happened to all of us—we innocently accept the invitation to grab “just one drink” with a friend and are shocked when the lights are being flipped on and you’re being told you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. These nights always end with drunk goggles, compromised morals, and usually lots of giggling, even if you’re a dude (oh, just admit it!). But the next morning is never as fun.
Enter The Hangover. carry on »
I was criminally sheltered when I was young. Like, not “criminally” as a hyperbole. Literally so sheltered that it should have been against the law.
And while being sheltered has been devastating for most aspects of my life (including, but not limited to, meeting girls, giving public speeches, knowing sexual innuendos so I don’t have to pretend, and just generally navigating my everyday life), there’s one important silver lining: I can now take this crippling inexperience and provide others insight into different facets of Flagstaff from the perspective of a complete newborn baby.
Because what better way to make critical life decisions than to trust the misadventures of someone who is completely and utterly naïve to the world?
For the first part of this installment, I tackle the mysterious, organically-cryptic unknown that is SHOPPING AT SPROUTS. carry on »
Okay, I’ll admit it. Some days I just don’t like wearing pants. Yoga and relaxed waist pants are okay, but anything that has to be zipped or buttoned is not. And then sometimes you discover, say, Orange Is The New Black, and spend a weekend binge watching while posting old Instagram selfies of you hiking last year. Whatever your personal scenario may be, I think we can all agree we get mighty thirsty during these times of reckless pants abandon. So what’s a guy or gal to do? Bars require shirts, shoes, and pants while grocery stores offer a mediocre selection at best. Lucky for us, there is always light at the end of the bottle and the following places allow you to purchase quality alcohol to enjoy in your home. Pants always optional. carry on »