An ode to Denver, and by extension, Jonesy’s

There are times when we really miss the Mile High City, and that’s no secret. This morning I came across an album that has pics from the last time we ate at my favorite Denver restaurant (this also happened to be my last night as a single lady; I’d have my bachelorette party at no other place!). Drinking Rail Yard and eating  mac’n’cheese fries until all we can do is flop and flail from the booth to the dart board to the jukebox–this is how I remember Jonesy’s. I have a rat pack of friends back home, and it’s fair to say every pain and peak of happiness of our 20-something existence has been satisfied by Jonesy’s. It’s true: at Jonesy’s, we are happy.

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