The Twin Cities

I’ve spent a fair amount of time on this blog emphasizing how much I dislike the Midwest. So let’s not forget that. The weather still fucking sucks. The beer is awful. The people talk funny. And there is little to no natural beauty. It does have some great cities though. Chicago and Madison. And now I can add Minneapolis to my list of cities I’m fond of. I was there for a very long time for work. Here are some pictures and anecdotes from that time.


We spent a lot of time walking around the city. To various restaurants and bars. From conference center to hotel. Here’s my old director Kristin walking backwards and giving a sort of tour of downtown. I don’t remember anything she told us. Minneapolis does, however, have a beautiful skyline. And it’s on the mighty Mississip’. Its sunsets are nothing compared to the Southwest’s, but it does get that radiant pink and red unique to its region.



These national trainings/meetings are fairly intense and very long. So when the evening comes, there is an absurd amount of drinking involved, making the days that much more exhausting. This is day one of training. We gathered at Burrito Loco, where they have two-for-one drinks. This is a common special in Minneapolis, and a tiring one. Never did I think I would actually say, “Jesus, can’t a guy ever just have one drink at a time in this town?” I crashed at 11 p.m. This is Gavin and Keith, who I spent a lot of time with during the trip. The girls are Erin (Sacramento), Michelle (I can’t remember where she directs. Jersey?) and I can’t remember legs’ name, but she directs Austin. Give me a break, they were feeding us beers two at a time.


Kristin, Pat and Heather. Heather and I have a running joke that we are best friends. But we are not. We do however pretend we are and reminisce as such.


The last nights of training are goddamn shit shows. This one was no exception, but it was slightly less debaucherous than usual. We flooded Nye’s polka bar, where 100-year-olds play accordion while you get drunk. It’s a phenomenal place, with 60s lounge decor, not recreated but authentic as though it hadn’t change a thing in decades.

We all ended up back at the Days Inn, packed in one room, drinking Grain Belt. And as always, check out that pinky… nothing but class from that guy.



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