Old Santa Fe, Denver

Combination #6. 

I think.

Maybe #5.

Whatever. It's good. 

I think I'm going to stop getting this sort of thing. 

Not because it's not good but because it doesn't photograph very well. 

"What will you have, Sir?"

     "Something that photographs well." 

"Oh. I can help you with that. You'll definitely want to get a tequila sunrise and best you order a la carte (French in a Mexican restaurant) so that the rice and beans don't blend into all the other various sauces with sludge-like colors and goopy consistencies." 

     "Ew."

"I know, right? But, hey, it is what it is. You'll want red chile sauces with drizzled white creama topping and colorful garnishes to stick out as layers, not all flooded with thick liquid substance sprinkled with shredded cheese that looks the same going out as it does going in if you know what I mean." 

     "No. I don't. What do you mean?"

"Nevermind. I'll help you order something photogenic." 

As if. 

They don't feel comfortable speaking English.

Each time I go in I am filled with a certain sadness.

I sense that I'm seeing a restaurant in the process of failing for lack of customers. While far less authentic restaurants nearby thrive. Long lines all the time. 

Much more expensive restaurants doing just fine, all within a block of this place. 

There is no real justice in the restaurant business. 

Their Yelp reviews are mixed. I've always had excellent meals and very good service. 

Here is my experience.

I walk up to the front door and it opens for me. A woman came forward and stood there holding it open as I pass by her.

But that was partially because nobody else was there. 

One other customer came in while I was there.

Another customer in another room left while I was there.

So, three of us.

When I left, the same woman stopped what she was doing and rushed forward to open the door again. She remarked on the weather. And that's more conversation than we had the whole rest of the time. 

This door opening thing is something that happens all the time. Every day. I have only to step out. 

Not every door, or course, but every day.

In fact, leaving my apartment building a woman held open the door for me. But that was because we met at the door from opposite directions at the same time.

I see it as the spark of divinity that abides inside everyone that causes them to respond to my spark. It's them for me and spark to spark. It's two sparks interacting though their vehicle, their bodies. From my point of view it is evidence of God on earth. Every day. 

It's touching. 

It's nice. 

I must now pray.

Thank you, God, for making yourself evident. Amen.