T-pisode 145: T Does Salt Lake in 3 Paragraphs

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The Mormon chick I met was hotter but she had the same shitty rules.

*I’ve decided to do a series of T-pisodes that capture my travels throughout my life. In 3 paragraphs. I’ll post them every once in a while. Some places I’ve been to a few times, others only once. And some I will probably never go back to because of what went down there.


I haven’t done a travel T-pisode in some time but I feel the world needs to know about Salt Lake City. There are a lot of stereotypes about Salt Lake City and I am here to tell you every single one of them is true! I’ve never been to a place like Salt Lake City in my entire life. And I don’t want to go back. It’s not like I hate it like I hate Poughkeepsie. It’s just that Salt Lake City is the lamest, weirdest and most painful place on the planet. I don’t care if people go there for skiing. I don’t ski. Maybe that would be fun. But my Boston ass was sent there for work so I only got to stay downtown or what they actually have the balls to call a town. This was the part of the city where people do work. Where money is made and lost on a daily basis. It made no sense to me because not one person seemed like they should have a job in my opinion. These people were weird. They looked slow. They spoke slow. Everything about the people and that place was so friggin’ weird! And BORING!!!

I went out to Salt Lake with a co-worker. Probably one of the hottest yet coolest co-workers I ever had the pleasure of working with in my entire life. She looks like Kim Kardashian and Beyonce had a hot Boston chick daughter. Yeah. Seriously. But she was engaged and I needed to behave. And we were forced to try to entertain ourselves. We had too! But that place was so awful. We tried every spot in the area when we weren’t at the conference we were attending. We couldn’t find anything fun. Anyone fun. Nothing fun. And you all know by now T can make something out of nothing but Salt Lake City Utah was just not happening. This place makes you cross the street holding huge, stupid ass orange flags! And yes it is run by the Mormons. Look. I’m not knocking the Mormons and their rules and beliefs. To each their own. But when your beliefs tell T that he can’t stay out past midnight, swear in public and can only have watered down, minimal alcohol in my Jack & Gingers per serving…WE GOT A FUCKING PROBLEM! So on the last night I turned my Boston charm on and finally found a way to work the system. Work the people. We met some people. A couple dudes from Texas, a hot chick from Jersey and two dudes from outside of Boston. All there for work and not the seminar we were there for. We were closing out whacked ass Salt Lake with a bang or going to die trying.

At the bar I talked the bartender into doubling up shots of Patron. Double shots equaled half shots anywhere else. But they were like $4. In Boston they’re $11. I was expensing most of the trip so I hooked up the bartender with some fat paper yo. We all got a buzz going. We brought the party to an outside bar roof deck. Got that bartender to start pouring our booze with the bird (booze counter) off of the bottles. Now things got poppin’! Jersey chick and I hit it off. In more ways than one. Besides her, there was this other chick that looked like a damn Playmate of The Year! She was so hot. But so dumb. And super Mormon. Like the most Mormon ever. It was painful talking to her. I weighed my options and went with Jersey. The last night ended with a bang. Pun intended. That night managed to salvage the trip a little. But not enough to ever make me want to go back to Salt Lake City ever again. That place was just weird. But I love Boston the best.


Until next time. Always take it there.




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