It was well after dark on a cool November downtown Denver night. I’ll never forget the time my wife, Nikki, and I spent walking along 16th Street with our new friends, “Mistika” and “Pockets”. We spent the next hour talking about life, laughing together, and panhandling for leftovers – a first for me.
We eventually scored some stale fries and a half-eaten hamburger from someone leaving the Cheesecake Factory. We sat down on a curb and passed the styrofoam container around.