by Steve & Barry Simpson
Most of the stories Steve and I share concern what goes on inside the Kokopelli doors of the trading post or the glass doors of the cafe. Some of the most interesting and amusing people we see never cross our threshold.
Today, I believe we shall share some of what goes on upon the graveled parking lot, outside those busy portals.
Steve, Priscilla and I have made a habit of keeping a close eye on what might be going on out there because the happenings can be quite entertaining.
Unlike Vegas, much of what goes-on in Bluff has a way of making its way into the headlines. We are not as discreet as our Nevada neighbors.
The other day, I opened the café for our staff at 6 a.m. As we hustled about to get the cafe open to the public, we noticed daybreak coming fast and concluded the sun would soon make its way above the roiled tops of the cliffs.
It was one of the most glorious mornings you can imagine. The night had been cool, and there was the barest hint of fall in the air.
The light was amazing and the textures of the earth fascinating. All told, the promise of a brilliant, warm, sunny day seemed assured.
As we worked, we noticed a rental car resting on the far west side of the parking lot. It is not unusual for travelers to overnight there if all the rooms in town are full.
Twilight was fading and the couple who spent the night soon emerged from their restless slumber.
Toni, our head cashier and all around great gal, called me over, pointed in the direction of the couple and queried, “Is that girl standing there in a bikini?”
Squinting hard and realizing the facts, I replied, “Yup, her bikini briefs!”
As we stood chuckling to ourselves at the audacity of the girl, the young man rounded the car, joining his companion at the back of the vehicle and popped the hatch.
He was bare to the waist, wearing only a pair of khaki colored shorts and flip-flops. He reached into the car and extracted a pair of turquoise colored shorts.
Then, all in the same instant, the sun broke through Gaines’ crack, which is a giant cleft in the cliff high above the café. This allowed a shaft of pure, unadulterated sunlight to streak across the parking lot and highlight the couple.
The young man dropped his Khaki shorts to the ground which left him fully exposed. Toni gasped and turned away while the young man stretched luxuriously.
Before long he slowly stepped into the turquoise trunks, hiked them up and donned a white tank top. The girl followed suit, dressing quickly. They then hopped in their car and motored away.
“That,” I said to Toni laughing, “is what some would call a glorious sunrise!”
“More like a rude awakening,” she mumbled.
If it is not someone shamelessly changing in the parking lot, it is some kid whizzing on the rocks with his family cheering him on.
We once had a bus full of foreign tourists pull up where all of its female passengers bailed-out and high-tailed it to the nearest restroom.
The men, however, took a more direct approach; they simply stepped-off the carry-all and began watering nearby plants and trees.
It was great! Not because of what they were doing, but because of how Steve reacted. He went-off like a grenade.
When we realized what was happening, he exploded across the counter, blew through the Kokopelli doors and began hollering and gesticulating in an animated fashion from our raised porch.
The men didn’t budge.
I guess the bus driver had kept them on the bus far too long, instantaneous relief was of greater concern than some crazy guy screaming hostile maledictions from on high.
Ever since then, Steve has petitioned for the purchase of a laser guided water cannon to mount on top of the trading post to, “Hose down those stinkin’ hosers!”
Toni supports him wholeheartedly.
The mighty Twin Rocks formation and accompanying red rock cliffs are what draw the people. With those bad boy behemoths as a backdrop, we get folks from all over the world taking pictures.
From drive-by shooters to picture perfect perfectionists, we receive people armed with everything from cell phones, to tablets, to highly sophisticated camera equipment in an attempt to capture themselves, family or friends in just the right pose.
We have had full grown men attempting jump shots, hoppin’ and boppin’ on the cobble-stone.
One young girl plopped herself down in the middle of the parking lot during lunch hour traffic. Armed with a selfie stick, she seemed determined to get just the right image or become road kill in the attempt.
Priscilla and I have learned not to inform Steve when it involves folks who might be prone to indiscretion. Because of his emotional incontinence, when it comes to indecent exposure, we prefer to keep him off the porch.