The other night found me in a hotel in downtown Denver. I went down to my car to grab our remaining bags and as I walked down the hallway towards my room I heard a door begin to open. With road-weary eyes I glanced at the person exiting the room and it was none other than Abraham Lincoln. Honest Abe. The sixteenth president of these United States. Born in a cabin, spoke at Gettysburg. That guy.
I'm talking six-foot 4 or better of scraggly beard sporting, overcoat wearing Lanky Yankee was walking out of that ******* hotel room right there in that dimly lit hallway, putting on a tophat. I looked at Abe and with a face I can only imagine appeared as though it belonged to a man who had just seen the ghost of a man who was shot in the head by a Confederate sympathizer over one-hundred and forty-eight years ago. He adjusted his hat, and nodded as a warm albeit subtle smile came over his face. He slowly and deliberately walked down the hallway and disappeared. I wish I had spoken to him, but when life confronts you with Abe Linclon when and where you least expect it, words just don't come.
The best explanation for this is that he was a Lincoln impersonator in town for some event. If so, he is the best impersonator I've ever seen. This was not a guy in a coat and a hat with a fake beard. This was:
And damned if a man don't feel a little unbalanced returning to his room to explain this story to a girl with judgmental eyes. No, I don't need sleep. Well yes I do, but that's not why Abe Lincoln was in the...you know what? Nevermind. Let's grab a beer. mumblemumblebitchlookatmelikeimcrazyyourethecrazyoneiwillshowyoucrazymumblemumble
I'm talking six-foot 4 or better of scraggly beard sporting, overcoat wearing Lanky Yankee was walking out of that ******* hotel room right there in that dimly lit hallway, putting on a tophat. I looked at Abe and with a face I can only imagine appeared as though it belonged to a man who had just seen the ghost of a man who was shot in the head by a Confederate sympathizer over one-hundred and forty-eight years ago. He adjusted his hat, and nodded as a warm albeit subtle smile came over his face. He slowly and deliberately walked down the hallway and disappeared. I wish I had spoken to him, but when life confronts you with Abe Linclon when and where you least expect it, words just don't come.
The best explanation for this is that he was a Lincoln impersonator in town for some event. If so, he is the best impersonator I've ever seen. This was not a guy in a coat and a hat with a fake beard. This was:
And damned if a man don't feel a little unbalanced returning to his room to explain this story to a girl with judgmental eyes. No, I don't need sleep. Well yes I do, but that's not why Abe Lincoln was in the...you know what? Nevermind. Let's grab a beer. mumblemumblebitchlookatmelikeimcrazyyourethecrazyoneiwillshowyoucrazymumblemumble