Yay it’s finally April
It’s funny how some 4/20 memories aren’t about massive crowds, smoke clouds over a park, or music blasting through the city. Sometimes, it’s just about where you land after work is done for fthe day.
I’ve only really done one proper 4/20 outing, and it still sticks with me. My old ski partner and I ended up at Denver Diner—that perfect late lunch, early dinner window where you’re not rushed even though the Denver Diner was packed, everything slows down just enough to feel it.
But the real story started long before we sat down.
That day was all cutting and trimming weed. Hours of it. Hands sticky, senses overloaded, and that smell—fully locked in and happy. Not the casual “yeah, I smoke weed” kind of scent. No sir. This was the industrial-strength, been breathing weed all-day, loud-without-speaking kind of smell.
There are levels to this game.
Some people try to smell like weed.
Some people are weed.
I was firmly in the second category.
By the time we walked into the diner, I was half-aware of it and half not caring at all because it’s 420. That strange mix of exhaustion and satisfaction had kicked in—the kind where you know you earned whatever’s coming next. Food hits different after a day like that. Not just better—earned.
Now here’s the kicker: Civic Center Park—ground zero for Denver’s 4/20 scene—isn’t that far away from the old Denver Diner. We could’ve wandered over, jumped into the crowd, made a whole thing out of it.
But honestly?
We didn’t need to.
It was already 4/20 on the calendar—and I smelled like weed… go figure.
No big crowd. No spectacle. Just two guys, a long day behind them, and a meal that felt like a reward.
And looking back? That might’ve been the best way to do it.
Because sometimes, you don’t go to the event.
Sometimes… you are the event.
Denver 420
Denver Diner
Civic Center Park
Denver Weed
It’s my life 