Dear American worker: No one gives a damn about what you do for a living. Seriously. We hate to break it to all of accountants, computer programmers, and real estate agents, but your work is soul-crushingly boring to the rest of us. Unless you're an emergency room doctor and are able to tell an awesome tale about how a couple of meth-heads attacked each other mid-orgy with steak knives—true story!—we really don't want to hear about your day at the office. Need to vent about your boss? Fine: You get five minutes, profanity encouraged. After that, take a big swig of your IPA and let it go.
Unlike most cities, Denver understands that work is, well, work. In Manhattan, you'll find a bunch of overgrown frat boys in $5000 suits physically incapable of shutting their yaps about how they're going to slay the market or close some balls-to-the-wall real estate deal tomorrow. In silicon Valley, strangely aggressive nerdy types can't stop talking about their mind-blowing app that lets people integrate their shopping lists with Pinterest, or how soon their options vest. In both places, and others like them, everyone is trying to one-up one another by bragging about their all-nighters and 100-plus hour workweeks, like they're going to get gold stars for being hard workers. Hey guys: No one cares!
Compare that to Denver, where we've had friends for the better part of a decade and still barely know what they do for a living. It's not that we don't care about their jobs in the Mile High City. We do. But unlike many other places, work doesn't define our lives here at altitude. (Hell, the worst traffic of the week is on Thursday evening because hardly anyone even bothers to go into the office on Friday.) Instead of work, we talk about more interesting things at happy hour: bagging 14ers, home-brewing recipes, triathlon training, heading up for some freshies, and where to camp next summer. Life outside the office, after all, is a lot more compelling than what happens in your cubicle.