Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Sheryl.

I've been known to be hard headed, and maybe even ignorant, but never just plain dumb. However, the last Friday night of SXSW, I set out to prove this wrong.

I found that running solo throughout town is generally the best way to get things done during South By. I'll check in with friends from time to time, but mostly I can go wherever I want and not have to answer to anyone. (I discovered that I like being single more than I know this past week.) So when some guy starts Stage Five Hovering while I'm trying to buy a shot for the okay-looking Ginge from the badass band that just played, avoid but be civil to my ex-Ginge-boyfriend at the same venue, and also try to meet up with an old friend in town and party hard with him, I become irritated and jump ship. On everyone.

Now this had been a fairly rad night up until this point, and I know it's going to be hard to get a cab on this busy Austin night, but it's not even two yet, so I take my chances and get to a corner where cabs are coming right into downtown, without a fare, and pretty much I'm the only person trying to hail a cab in this area. Yet for some reason none of the cabbies are stopping for me. There is a veritable swarm of yellow cars coming in my direction, vacant lights a-blazin, and not one will stop. This is when I-do-what-I-want-Brynnan rears her ugly head and starts in the direction of home, which is, well, far far away from downtown on foot. And while there is never a "bad" part of town to go through, there are some pretty dark ones, void of any life at 1:45 AM save vagabonds and probably bears.

When I get to the edge of downtown, right before I blaze into the deep dark parts of North Lamar, I sit down and take a moment. My friend Patrick lives right up the street! Maybe the last bit of juice in my stupid new iphone will allow me to call him and I can crash at his place! But when I call, he is across town at a party, and instead of saying "I need help, friend," I say, "Okay, have fun then!" and hang up and kind of whimper a little bit. And while I still have a little bit of phone battery, I don't want to utilize it just now, provided I may very well have to call 9-1-1 in a few short minutes. But in my head, this is the only option I have, and I'm a very tall girl! No one would possibly want to mess with me, right?! Right?!

So I set off.

Now the first testament to my survival is going to be bums. And bums are all over downtown, but when we face them, we are normally with our burly man-friends, or amongst the several thousands of people downtown, or there may be a cop nearby, or a store front. But under a dark overpass, alone, with no one in hearing range... well this is all new to me. And while you may think most bums are only down and out and won't mess with you, trust me, they are mean and will spit at you for no reason in broad daylight. Luckily, this particular bum is passed the fuck out. He seem pretty comfortable wrapped in Chronicle ads and surrounded by beer cans, so I delicately make my way by. And we are right by one another. The City of Austin did not build sidewalks with consideration of sleeping homeless persons and the people who have to sneak around them. Fortunately, I am not wearing heels of any sort and my sandals are fairly noiseless, but as I'm tip-toeing by, I hear something jangling and realize that my GIGANTIC EARRING ARE CLANGING and under the overpass, it sounds like the British are coming. But when I put my hands around them to stifle the noise, my bracelets fall around my arm in a horrible, yet fashionable, sound. In a panic, I scurry off, leaving the bum who, of course, did not even stir.

And then, things aren't too bad for a while. I find a pretty white rose bush and put one in my hair. I see a pretty kitty. I even see some stupid ass sorority girl running around with headphones on. I want to knock her out for being such a dip shit but she somehow gives me hope.

And then I reach the twisty turning horrible dark spots of the trek, where not much traffic is flowing at all, and should I walk through the areas, I have to wait for some cars to come by to provide light and ensure I don't get carted off into the woods by predators, be they rapists or zombies. There are small paths entering the woods right by the road, which I can only assume are for drug trafficking. There are strange howls coming from the wooded area as well, but not dogs or even coyotes, but crack heads. I encounter no one on the walk any more. I am alone in the world.

And then someone tries to abduct me.

A man. A black man. In a van, the most frightening kind of vehicle, stops beside me on the road and tells me to get in, that he is a taxi and he will take me where I need to go. You have gotta be kidding me with this. So, I keep walking, feigning and cursing him off. But he follows me. Insisting he is a taxi in his unmarked gray van, and that he can "hep me."

Everything that I have learned in my life has come up to this moment. If I were the sorority girl a few, what seems like hundred, blocks back, I would get in happily, but I am not. I am the hard headed asshole from Pottsville, Texas who learned at a very young age to tell who is dangerous and who is not, so I direct all my fear into anger and yell obscenities and wave my long arms at the kidnapper/rapist/killer until he drives away.

Now anger again turns to fear and fear turns to defeat. Here I am, not even halfway to my stupid house and I almost got abducted, eaten by a flesh-eating kitten, and attacked by wolves. Crying only blurs my vision, making it impossible to survey the area for further predators. Although, yeah duh, I boo-hooed for a good solid minute. But I pull myself together and continue down the road, which is just truly awful. I mean, this is probably the least fun/smart thing I have even done. I keep wondering how I got myself into this mess and why on Earth I thought this was a good idea, and damn me for being so ridiculous and why didn't I just call a friend for help? IDIOT! And perhaps I am making a huge deal over walking this far but Good Lord, a man tried to murder me. Pretty sure.

And then lo! another stranger, but a kinder (and more chatty) stranger pulls up, in (damn) a van, and hollers out that she doesn't like me walking alone on this road. "I don't like it either!" I call back, but I am still cautious of Lady in Different Van because well, you know, the whole Pottsville spiel and all, but approach cautiously and we exchange names and not really pleasantries because she's in the middle of the road, but she starts in on her daughter who goes to Texas and she wouldn't want her to be walking alone and yada yada and I ask for her ID and where she's from etcetera etcetera. I have no real idea if this will help if the woman tries to kill me, and I assure you, she's no Vanna White, this lady looks as if she's been rode hard and put up wet, but it seems like the right thing to do, so after learning that she knows where Hamilton is and is from Grandbury, I get in.

So I hitchhiked home. But not all the way home because for some reason I have this thing that I don't like cabbies (and now, strange ladies who talk a lot about their kids and give young women rides home) to know where I live, so I have her drop me off like five blocks from my house, which is super dumb because at this point, my freaking feet hurt and in the past week I have managed to pull a muscle in my calf. And when I start walking home, feeling more safe because I'm actually in my neighborhood, I take off my shoes and run on the pavement, which proves more dumb than most things I have done all night. Then I resort to running barefoot through people's lawns, which is okay for a while then seems kinda weird, if the occupants were to see the Amazon woman in their yard and all. Finally, I put back on my sandals and kind of handicap-skip home, whistling and dancing, cause I'm alive and all.

Thanks, Sheryl.



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