When you throw together 5,000 souls twisted on arrested teen angst with 200 police officers fingering pint cans of mace, all on the cusp of the millennium, you end up with an entertaining blend of frustration from all sides. Denver's will no doubt be inked in history as the most subdued, drab, and bleak millennial celebration across the globe. Nothing better to do than keep the citizens from running amok, flipping cars, and tossing molatov cocktails at each other at the crack of midnight. The crowd between 15th and 16th at Larimer swells from the sidewalks into the street. The swelling continues and a few cars with drunk drivers dare to pass through the mass gauntlet of flesh.
Horns blow, hands hit high-fives, thousands of palms slap down on the cars.
Some cars turn onto Larimer from 16th, but after seeing the gauntlet, veer quickly back out, fearing for their lives. Another brick of firecrackers patters away, as those last few drinks begin kicking in, and the mob grows restless. Three young sluts begin doing a strip show from one of those lime-green phone wire boxes. Flashing their breasts and baring their hams to ecstatic cheers and cries for more, becoming more risqu as time wanders on. Another firework cannon goes up, exploding in a dangerous fireburst against a corner building.