The Strange Case of Doctor B and Mister E



What a hauntingly beautiful image to leave me with on my last night out in Denver – my friend staggering blindly into the street growling undecipherable words to taxis as they drove by; a fitting closure to my years in the Mile High State before leaving for the Midlands where an unknown Dystopia waits for me.

I had been working to close loose ends for my upcoming cross country move. I stated my intended journey in the last blog post (see A Farewell to the Rockies; My Future Looms in Sleepytown) but now felt it was time to have one final farewell celebration. One last night on the town here where pot is legal and public indecency is a common occurrence. I wanted a Viking funeral to send me off in proper fashion but as luck would have it a majority of my acquaintances were unable to get out or already had plans for Friday night. I should have known that planning something this late would end with few (if any) participants. Keeping that in mind I felt friends or no, I would be going out for one last celebration.

My scope was set on a local Czech sports bar, a favorite hangout on the south side of downtown Denver where the liquor poured free among tough working stiffs that spoke English as a second language. The atmosphere feels foreign enough to be Bohemian but not so alien as to make one feel awkward. Broad shouldered waitresses with industrialist tattoos serving shots to Groznian gents that just want to watch hockey and get drunk. Before I could get my work shirt changed and out the door to the Colfax bus I was contacted by two valued partners in crime, the two souls who always rallied behind the call for celebratory action; my good friends Dubya and the Empathetic Doctor B.

I raced to get my gear together, mustering my entire stash of marijuana and paraphernalia to hand over to Dubya as a farewell parting gift. Where I was going will not allow that substance through their borders without consequences so I had to let go of the nefarious weed…for now. Having all my gear, I walked the five blocks from my place to Colfax, toking on this noxious strain of pot to get me geared up for what the evening may bring. This was so reminiscent of my evenings parting for downtown Denver with little more than hope of discovering good times. Epic adventures are rarely planned but if you never step out the door, they surely won’t appear. How many evenings had I headed out for Broadway and Colfax to watch the failed rally of a political mess during the ‘Occupy Denver’ era? All the evenings I spent watching the various walks of life educate me, the homeless, the downtrodden…the huddled masses yearning to be free. This role of the dice approach became an accustomed habit for me whenever I needed to release the angst in my life. Seeing others suffer helped me keep real priorities in perspective. Any given night on the Colfax line could work out enlightening, or it could fizzle. Either way, this would be my swan song evening in Colorado.

My phone had very little charge left on it, but I continued to keep in touch with the Doctor. He was now at the bar getting a head start on the night’s drinking; time was pressing. Dubya had an earlier commitment and would show up at some point so I bounced along on the bus and tried patiently to wait for my downtown stop, some twenty five minutes away. My whole balanced approach to things was to make it down there not too early as to have to wait for hours on Dubya, but not arrive so late as to find Doctor B trashed having had to wait for us that long. The man would not stop his alcohol intake (now that he was at the Czech bar) so I pressed on feeling I had met the razor’s edge of timing.

The Colfax bus was, as always, a collection of dejected souls. Tragic walks of life that ride day in, day out; I sit among them and don’t know whether to weep or applaud their perseverance. Doctor B texts me these profound words in regards to riding the Colfax line: “when less pain equals more entertainment, it is time to move.” That sealed it for me. It is indeed, time to move.

I arrive at the Czech bar and find the profound Doctor with a fresh gin and tonic. One empty glass next to the one in his hand meant he was at least two up so far. I ordered some scotch and the evening ran on with us participating in those lengthy debates I‘ve become accustomed to enjoying.  We were prepared to wait for some time on Dubya as she is notoriously late, as well as one of the worst persons I have ever encountered when it comes to directions. Even when equipped with smart phone technology, GPS enabled, she will find herself befuddled by the most simplistic directions. While waiting I pulled Doctor B out for a bit of the green bud and after finishing a few bowls, he looks around and states “I think this evening calls for an Andy”; An ‘Andy’ was his way of saying he needed to procure a bindle or two of white powder. The doctor loves to take it to the extreme so I wasn’t about to stop this train. The tracks had been laid so all I could do was enjoy this last ride of the mind in Denver.

Time marches on with the Doctor leaving me at the bar while he hailed a taxi off to get his demon powder. I managed a few more rounds on my pipe before he got back, substance at hand, which mixed in with the liquor and pot and made for a night of even more exquisite conversation. We were still waiting for Dubya who had assured us via the numerous text message and calls that she was well within walking distance of the bar. At one point my compadre slowly began his transformation from the comforting Doctor B to his counterpart, the Enigmatic Mr. B. This Jekyl/Hyde morph of personality would take hold under the most precise measurements of drugs and alcohol and the way the Doctor was putting away both it came as no surprise to me or Dubya (who finally did show up) when the good man began to change into this hideous character. Bits of his formal self still lingered and he was quite the conversationalist but then Mr. E kept bobbing in and out of the dialogue, spewing things that shocked and amused us.

We ended up closing the bar that Friday and went next door where a pizza by the slice joint kept it running until 3AM. This was the last vestige of Doctor B I saw that evening. He was eating a slice that was literally overflowing with sliced jalapenos and just as he finished, I saw the total transformation take place. Nothing of the Doctor was left to be seen. This was the raw beast, Mr. E, in totality. He began croaking incoherent syllables that neither Dubya nor I could comprehend.

“I’m sorry dude” she whispered to me as Mr. E staggered nearby. “I don’t think I can give you a ride back home. He’s out of control and I –“

It was right then that we noticed Mr. E stagger out into the street with these huge red rimmed golf ball eyes, moaning unintelligible words. We didn’t know what to do but stand there dumbfounded as the man spasmed into different lanes trying to slow down a cab. No cabbie in their right mind would stop for such a horror show and we witnessed a few drive by him. I felt a bit bad preparing myself to just run away from the whole scene but just as I was ready to break out into a sprint, I notice that a cab did pick him up; that is the last I saw of the nefarious Mr. E or the delightful Doctor B.

Dubya and I couldn’t help but laugh in wonderment at the event we witnessed and I told her how fortunate I felt to have such a sendoff for this occasion. I will miss Denver and the countless evenings of reckless abandonment I have been fortunate enough to experience, so what better way to end an era than this? Perhaps somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, the good doctor knew what I needed as a farewell address. This was his way of reminding me what I leave here in the Rockies. The pioneer spirit of the West is alive and kicking, laced with pot and cocaine and ready to accept any melancholy soul out there who needs loved. They held the love for me that kept me alive but now I venture into a new chapter. Aloha Colorado, aloha Doctor B.


2 Responses to “The Strange Case of Doctor B and Mister E”

  1. 1 Doctor B
    11/12/2013 at 3:01 am

    Tak dlouho, můj přítel!

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