One thing I find about Denver that can be intimidating is that the region is extremely affluent.
You see, I grew up in Buffalo, New York, a city where J.C. Penney is considered “upscale,” and Olive Garden is considered some fancy dining. When I graduated from college, my first job was in Las Cruces, New Mexico – the second poorest SMSA in the country. I had an apartment with a view and a ten year old car, and the locals thought I was stylin’.
Denver, on the other hand – people are gladly paying $200,000 and up for run-down bungalows in my “transitional” neighborhood. (Fortunately, I bought my house a few months before my neck of the woods was “discovered.”) Half the commercials on radio are accompanied by smooth jazz of some sort. Half the cars on the road are sport-utility vehicles, compared to the dominance of huge Buicks and Oldsmobiles on the streets “back home.” There’s organic grocery stores a’plenty, and the newspapers constantly run stories about the non-stop partying lifestyle of twentysomething dot-com millionares. A night in LoDo, I’ll be witness to a parade of the rich and beautiful. In one of Buffalo’s bar districts, I’ll be witnessing the greatest mullet collection seen since the John Mellankamp concert in Indianapolis in 1985.
I’m 5’10", and weigh 165 pounds. I was never called “fat” in my life until I moved to Denver. I’ve been on dates where the scene from that auto commercial actually plays out, where the woman accidentally steps up to the more luxurious vehicle, waiting for her date to unlock it, only to find herself disappointed because he really owns a plain old American car. Women have expressed disappointment that I don’t own an SUV, or that I don’t have the goal of making a six digit income by the time I turn 40. Excepting the population of Commerce City and the migrant workers that are slowly being pushed out of my neighborhood, I get the feeling that everyone in Denver is richer than me, better looking than me, and having more fun than me. Because I only drive a Ford Contour (granted, with a V6 and the driveability of a BMW M3), and that my work somehow doesn’t involve telcom, marketing, law or medicine, I feel like I can’t compete with other guys out there.
I’m seriously looking at leaving Denver – partly because the job outlook for my profession isn’t that great here, partly to cash in on the equity in my house before a recession hits, and partly because I feel like I’m outclassed by every other guy here. 
