A Life in Sin (?) on the Plaza

A little over a year ago, Cutest and I merged our lives and homes, probably to our grandmothers’ horror for surely we were living in sin by moving into a condo on the Plaza.  Before and since, many of our friends have wanted to know why we chose that location. Here’s why.

One evening as we walked toward the Sister City bridge that spans Brush Creek, I spotted a lady standing at midpoint, draped in a flowing white cape. Gathered at the bridge’s base were eight others, snapping photos as the woman walked toward the Plaza side.

Near us a nattily dressed gentleman stood, rocking nervously from side to side while droplets of sweat began to trickle down his forehead.  Soon the caped lady joined him. That is when it became crystal clear to Cutest and me that this couple was getting married, here and now!  Before God, the eight other witnesses and us, the couple spoke their I dos afore an officiant and in seconds their married life had begun. 

A romantic little snapshot of life we serendipitously observed. We've seen many others.

Although the Plaza is currently enduring a revitalization, food and beverage establishments remain one of its calling cards. Top of my list is Chaz, hidden below street level, sheltered next door by the Raphael hotel. Chaz gives off that “Cheers” vibe. Dark woods, dim lighting, bar seating for six, with a few tables sitting nearby. Bartenders and wait staff know your name and your preferred drink. Each night after six, a jazz combo plays softly from a corner of the room. In summer (starting in May) on Wednesdays, on a makeshift stage erected on the circle drive’s lawn, a larger jazz ensemble plays and sings while patrons lounge in chairs on the nearby brick patio. During cooler months, fire pits are lit to quell the chill.

But I hesitate to sing Chaz’s delights too loudly as I do not wish to see the intimate atmosphere destroyed.

Briefly, those are but a couple of reasons or excuses for why we chose the Plaza as our home. And it’s nice to now share each other’s company 24/7.  Sorry, Granma.