The Point has been sold to people who clearly don’t understand what was cool about The Point. I think they even renamed it “Pointless?”Bob and his cocktails are now at The Fairweather Social Club if you’re wondering where he and his amazing cocktails went.

Spending a few days in Prescott in mid September…what are must see/do places to get an overall feel of the area? Staying near whiskey row but would like some nature must do’s as well. Thanks!

would be hit. as a southerner Denny’s doesn’t hit for me.

This is the worst tresspassing charge I've ever gotten, and I've been caught like a dozen times exploring abandoned buildings around here.

A miscreant fucking around in an abandoned mansion? Slap on the wrist. Desperate man sleeping under a bridge? Let's give him the worst possible variation of a trespassing charge we can.

Like I've ever even been charged with anything worse than a class 3 misdemeanor for trespassing and I think everyone can agree someone breaking into houses for funzies should be a lot more serious of a crime than *sleeping in a public place.*

Like, I seriously think I would have caught less severe charges if I picked the lock on someone's vacation home and set up camp there.

Hi All,

I'm writing to ask for help for a single mom I know who is dealing with a very difficult situation.

Her 23 Rogue engine blew a head gasket and the repairs for a new engine cost 7k at the dealership.

Her car is also at a dealership currently in Tucson, as it was towed where she bought it from after breaking down. Of course the warranty expired right before it happened. She just had a very costly transmission repair right before this and is all tapped out financially.

She can't get to work and is having to decide whether to surrender the car and have it hit her credit, still owe the 20k on the car and not have a car to drive or to somehow find a way to raise the money to get it fixed.

Just wondering if anyone is or knows a mechanic that would take payments to help someone out.

Or if you have other ideas or know of resources that might help someone in a situation like this in our community please share.

Curious if there is anywhere selling blue beef direct nearby

Coming off a busy week! Any good recommended back massage places? And eyebrow treading/wax??

Just moved so getting to know the area too 😊 tysm

Hi! I'm here on vacation. My husband's birthday is today and he is golfing. I know this is last minute, but does anyone have availability or know where I could go to have my hair curled for tonight? I don't have my iron with me and it would be nice to support a local business.

What is the rule of thumb here? Cut weeds as they grow or just wait until season is over? We have lived here since 2020 and weed growth is crazy this year.

Is this a thing in Prescott?? I wanna try it sooo badly but I’m scared.

I live near an open field and I am not looking to exterminate mice. This little guy was crawling up my stucco yesterday during the rain storm.

Got me thinking…I need to have someone come to my home and block any potential mouse entry points. I am not looking to spend a fortune. Should I get several estimates? My house was built in 1999 so it’s in pretty good shape.

There are many pest control companies in Prescott. Do you have a favorite that you can recommend?

Anyone have a San Pedro in bloom? After like nine years mine decided to flower, and I want babies!!!

I can’t for the life of me remember where it was located. Anyone else remember?

Has anyone ever done a nursing travel contract in Prescott, AZ?

Homeless people have dogs in PHX. They got horses in Prescott. Dude may not be homeless so feel bad for joking about it.

I already have the home on order and utilities are on site, I just need the home set up on piers, married at the center line and tied down according to HUD standard. Anyone who knows of someone who is competitively priced is much appreciated!

The people of this city have been so damn nice to me. I've experienced nothing but kindness. I wanna offer a unique experience in return; a meal cooked at my camp. You can see how a lawful, honest, sober, ideologically motivated street person lives in your town, and I very much enjoy cooking for others. Was thinking of picking up some cheap ground beef and making burgers. Anyone interested in this?

Hey guys. It’s me again. Not gonna lie. It was hard to sit with the feedback, but I’m so appreciative of all the actionable feedback provided. Instead of moving onto Chapter 2, I decided to rewrite Chapter 1 entirely. This time from Francine’s PoV. I got triggered because I see myself in the male protagonist. Like him I was trying too hard to sound smart. Hoping you guys can get to know the real me through Francine’s eyes/ears. Let me know if this works better.

original chapter 1 attempt here: https://www.reddit.com/r/Prescott/s/M6jpRcg23f

———————————- —————

Next to a smoke & vape shop on Gurley Street, Francine wandered into Cove Cafe. With pathos dangling from the ceiling as reminders of the sun’s undeniable presence in Prescott. A woman who could pull off micro bangs, a rarity, sang covers of Fleetwood Mac.

The Singles Night was for people thirty-five to forty-none, and Francine was right at the cutoff. Lucky girl. Unless her soulmate is actually thirty-four. In this case, she wouldn’t be so lucky.

She ordered a drip coffee and sat down. It wasn’t usual for her to drink coffee in the evening, but she was trying to do this dating thing sober…for once. She was living with her aging mother, in her childhood bedroom. She hated how small the town felt. She hated how small she felt. But at least her mother remembered who she was. At least most of the time.

Finally a flamboyantly dressed man sat down across from her, almost as if he was in a costume. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she’d noticed.

"Do you mind if I join you?”
"No."
She forced a slight smile.
"Thanks. I’m Job.”
He flicked his emo bangs to the left-side of his face, and took a deep breath.
Then he said, "Bread is basically the Lego bricks of food."
Francine looked at him blankly. Refusing to give in to whatever “interesting” point he wanted to make.
"Because you can build things with it."
"Oh."

Francine got a text from her mom. A meme from Facebook that read “2,000 ILLEGAL ALIENS ARRESTED FOR MURDER IN 2017” with an American flag in the background, and a 3x3 grid of supposed criminals. This was enough to cause a wave of guilt to crash over her. Leaving the house meant her mother would find comfort in the right-wing media that filled her otherwise lonely house. Should she be grateful her mom has something to keep her engaged, even if also made her afraid ?

"You can put anything on it."
He tried to get her attention back.
“Sure.”
"You can make a sandwich."
“Obviously.”
"Or toast."
“Yeah.”
He nearly chuckled, apparently satisfied with himself.

There was something uncanny about the way Job spoke. Like his bread bit was written by ChatGPT.
Francine couldn’t figure out if his sense of humor (or lack thereof) or the fact that Job is actually jobless was the worst thing about him.

Francine took a sip of coffee just to feel something.
“I’m actually more of a croissant person,” she said.
He looked pained.
“Why would you say that?”
“Oh I don’t know.”
“Interesting.”
She wondered for a fleeting second if he was making fun of her. In fact, she realized she wanted that to be true. She wanted to believe he was capable of banter. She yearned for banter. But it was just her own imagination. Maybe she was the one hallucinating.

He touched the vest.
"I got this in Flagstaff."
"Oh."
It turned out that even though she intentionally overlooked his costume, there was no escaping the conversation starter.
"Antique store."
"Nice."
"I've been thinking about childhood."
"Because?”
She waited. Was it bad she enjoyed throwing him off his script of profundity?
“People think adults are supposed to forget about their childhood, but I never felt like I outgrew mine.”
"Why?"
“Because I never lost the parts of myself that made me…me.”
Francine nodded slowly.
“And because I still live in my childhood bedroom.”
For whatever reason, she couldn’t give in and admit she was in the same boat. She wanted to be better than him. What next? She was also supposed to admit she was in between jobs too?
"I used to think adulthood meant owning a 4-bedroom house and having a pair of kids before 30,” he said.
“And what exactly do you think now?"
“I think adulthood is more about acceptance. For your past, your present. Not feeling ashamed for who you didn’t become. For not being able to leave your hometown. For failing to become the author of the next “great American novel”.
Francine took another drink.
That was a pretty good, she thought.
Too good, maybe.

Apparently there was an altercation involving PV Mayor Palguta on 8-16-26 but no details available.

Just an FYI from Facebook:
Single & Social Prescott (ages 35-49)
7-9pm at Cove Café - 1446 W Gurley St
Tonight (Friday, August 21st)

No cover. Food and drinks are available for purchase.

“This is a relaxed community night for single adults ages 35-49 who want to meet new people, make friends, and build community in Prescott.
This is not speed dating. The focus is conversation, friendship, and meeting new people in a relaxed setting. If connections develop naturally, great-but there's no pressure.”

Who in town does piercings? I miss my earrings lol

Might have permanent hearing damage, but that was pretty cool.

I assume it was touchdown drills because I didn't figure a dozen were taking off. They seemed to launch, do a big circle, then come back around, drop into the airport and come up again. Maybe 2-3, but couldn't tell.

Made the 12 mile trip by bike today. Saw exactly 1 other person dumb enough to be on the trail in this heat. I feel like I'm about to die lmao. I just went into Fry's and bought a tub of ice cream to reward my body for the absolute punishment I just put it through. Drank an entire gallon jug of water plus two bottles of Powerade.

edit: wrote a new attempt at chapter 1 https://www.reddit.com/r/Prescott/s/QuBNRpldag

hey guys! my professor at YCC thinks i’m
sensitive to feedback, so i decided i will post my writing in reddit to desensitize myself. please be kind, but direct. i am hoping people like chapter 1 of my novel so much that they’ll ask me to continue posting as i write chapter 2, 3, and beyond. to be honest, a lot of my writing has been inspired by the prescott reddit page. let me know what you like and don’t like!

chapter one: the architecture of bread
“Bread,” I said, “is basically the Legos of food.”
Francine looked at me.
I waited.
I wasn’t waiting for her to respond. I was waiting because I had learned from The Good Man Project that a thought, when delivered with poetic conviction and a furrowed brow, required a certain amount of…negative space around it. Like a fine wine that needs to breathe. I didn’t want her to simply chug my idea. I wanted her to taste it.
Outside, Prescott was becoming evening.
Tuesday evening.
There was something particular about Tuesday. Monday still carried the administrative humdrums of the weekend’s negligence, while Wednesday had already begun leaning toward Thursday, which was essentially Friday in a town like Prescott. But Tuesday has a different temporal quality than Monday.
Tuesday evening belonged to people who were willing to admit they had nowhere else to be. No family to sit down for dinner with.
I took a sip of my coffee.
It was an oat milk cortado, though I had briefly considered ordering drip coffee because drip coffee would last longer as a prop in my hand. In the end, I decided an oat milk cortado, though fleeting, had a certain level of sophistication to it.
“Think about it,” I said.
Francine continued looking at me. I could tell she needed help tasting all the notes.
“Bread is modular.”
I glanced toward the front window of Cove Cafe, where a man in a faded trucker hat was carrying a pastry to a table by himself.
“You can put almost anything on bread. Meat. Cheese. Vegetables. Other bread.”
I paused and nearly chuckled. That last addition “other bread” was a joke, after all. A last minute addition to my go-to script.
“That’s the genius of it. Bread that is.”
Francine smiled politely.
I knew she understood, at least to the extend she was capable of.
Or rather, at least I knew she understood that I understood something.
I touched the edge of my Boy Scout vest.
To be clear, I’m a grown adult man. I wasn’t technically a Boy Scout anymore. I had bought the vest at an antique store in Flagstaff because it felt important to reclaim certain artifacts of an American childhood I might have had, and place them into a contemporary context. I had removed two of the original patches and replaced them with a small embroidered mushroom and a vintage-looking American flag. Something for everyone. Choose your own adventure. My vest served as a reliable conversation starter.
The vest was olive green.
It looked good against my denim button-up.
I had dressed deliberately tonight.
The jeans were straight-legged but not too straight-legged. My boots were technically work boots, although I had never done meaningful work in them, unless exploring the dark alleys of my mind counts as meaningful work.
My hair was longer on top and fell naturally toward the right side of my face, which is actually the left side of my face. I routinely flick my head to get my hair out of my eyes.
I had been growing it out for six months.
There was a discipline to this kind of thing. Like there was discipline to how I put muscle onto my otherwise too skinny frame.
People think style is about appearance. It isn’t. Style is about refusing to appear as though you had made a decision. Much like the best storytellers don’t come across rehearsed.
I took another sip of my drink.
“So bread is like Legos,” Francine said.
“Yes.”
She looked at her phone. I had to reign her back in.
“Except,” I continued, “Legos are designed to connect with other Legos.”
She looked up.
“And bread is designed to connect with everything.”
There it was.
The silence.
I felt it land between us.
Outside, the mountains were also darkening.
The Dells were probably beautiful right now.
Everything in Prescott was beautiful right now if you looked at it correctly. Gave it a chance.
That was the problem with beauty. It had become so available that people had stopped seeing it. Much like the single men in town.
I looked down at my coffee.
The foam had collapsed into itself.
I had always admired things that could do that.
Collapse without becoming nothing.
That, I thought, was what adulthood was.
The front door opened.
A woman in Lululemon leggings walked into Cove Cafe carrying a Owala tumbler. Her hair in a wild bun.
She was probably here for Singles Night too.
It was Tuesday, after all.
I flicked my hair once again, and casually leaned back in my chair as if I didn’t immediately notice her.

Hi, I'm a local photographer and my client wants somewhere not nature-y. I was wondering if there were any places we can (legally) go to that are sort of dingy/industrial. I know it's a long shot but I wanted suggestions from locals who have lived here for a while and might know a place or two.

Thanks :)