When your given handle as a water taste-testing judge is “Trash Panda,” crowd expectations are low. That was my strategy as I faced 12 gleaming glasses of city water from around Colorado at the Rocky Mountain Water Conference this week — admit up front that my palate is hopelessly scorched from decades of mouth-shredding Froot Loops and scalding coffee. And acknowledge that even on a good day, my family claims I couldn’t smell the ocean from a boat. They gave me a badge and a score sheet anyway, because the bar for what passes as late-day entertainment for 300 water engineers is equally low. These experts in sewage lift pumps and ionizing water filters were indeed diverted by me and my fellow handful of judges, perhaps because they could sense our fear.