Sunday started off so innocently. Got up around 9, called Jewell to make plans, and met up with her at her house around 2. We both walked to the bus stop, proceeding to Maryland Plaza, where Allison was to meet us later. She showed up at a quarter ‘til 4—surprised the hell out of me. I haven’t seen that girl in forever, neither has Jewell. We meandered for maybe a half an hour, before heading off to the Loop.
Because I’ve wanted to replace my white hoodie, my first stop was Rag-o-Rama. We were sidetracked, however: first by Mama’s burger joint or something or another, then by a really nifty street vendor, who makes little glass thingies strung on hemp. There, I saw an extraordinarily pretty boy, a topic which I will let pass, for it’s pointless for me to dwell on such things.
Once in Rag-o-Rama, I immediately sought hoodies, coats, anything that could keep me warm while waiting for the bus at 6 in the morning. One of them brought me a blazer, insisting I try it on (But it’ll make you look like Mr. Rogers!). Reluctant, but deciding it would be best not to question, I go along with it. I admit it didn’t look too bad. Allison figured green pants were in order, so we looked for some. I saw the hottest pair on the “80s” rack: green- and white-striped, in essence, pajama pants. Long story short I ended up trying on a whole bunch of shit that’s too insane for words: some extremely hot hot pink shoes, the green-striped pants, the Mr. Rogers blazer, a pink cow-print purse, a green feather boa, some pink butterfly shades, and a black Puritan hat—I must say, that was some hot shit. It certainly drew a crowd. I would have the ocular proof had only the place not been staffed by pretentious fucks who were so adamant about there being no photography in the store. I really hate that place.
All of that “shopping” (I never did get my hoodie) certainly worked up an appetite. We returned to that burger joint. They were going to close soon, so one of the grillers came up to me and said “It’s not too late. What do you want and I’ll go on ahead and grill it for you?” I told him I wanted a cheeseburger and he went around back, presumable to hook me up. Allison ordered the same thing at the window, got her food, after which the guy at the window lowered the gate. Hello? After determining that I would not be getting anything from there, we went into the Market where Jewell and I stopped by Pearl Express after she revealed that she has never had bubble tea. Apparently we are two very indecisive people. A good 15 minutes later we both ordered teas and split a couple of rolls of sushi. The guy at the counter was spiffy in that he was nice, patient, and reminded us both of Anh.
We left the Loop and drove west down Delmar. After awhile, I gave up on trying to figure out where we were going and entered a state that’s not quite sleep yet not entirely awake. I’m gonna call it “chill.” Jewell and I both wanted to go downtown, and while I wanted to do some ‘sploring, I wore my white Adidas so I didn’t feel so inclined. I mean really, if I knew I would be getting dirty I would have dressed for the occasion. Boy was I in for a rude awakening.
Somehow we ended up in St. Charles. When I said riverfront, the Missouri didn’t necessarily come to mind. Nevertheless, she parked in a vacant lot of what is evidently a park. Keep in mind it’s after dark, around 7:30. After she gives me a warmer shirt and retrieves a spotlight, we follow her past a sign: “Wooded Area Adjacent to River: No Trespassing.” Boy was that a mistake. Considering I had seen Wolf**Creek only a few weeks earlier, my imagination might have been overactive. I was freaking out the entire time. That was some scary shit. Never have I been so relieved to see concrete in my life.
That whole episode made me extremely disappointed with myself. I’ve become fearless in the city, only to scare myself into near-hyperventilation in the backcountry.
After resurfacing, I checked for the well-being of my shoes—they were a bit scuffed. Cold and shaken up, I was ready to go, but Jewell and Allison spotted swings and ran off after them. I followed. It has been ages since I’ve been on a swing, no less on a playground. I called Bradley while swinging, but he wasn’t home.
Allison had been driving crazily that entire night. It was such driving that would land us in a cornfield off of some country-ass back road. She swerved a few times, the tires gave out, and it felt like the car was going to flip. All I wanted was to eat my fucking slice of pizza. I was much more afraid in the woods than as a result of this. In fact, my only real concerns were Jewell (she had to be home by 10 and was freaking out), how much I wish I had brought Ruth’s camera, and my shoes. Because she speared the fucking car into a field full of mud, I had to get out and push. You have no idea how pissed I was. My Gawd I wanted to cry. I had done surprisingly well keeping those shoes blindingly white, only to be defeated by this. I heaved a bit and the tires gave way, leaving me alone in the middle of a mess. I looked around but found no clear path to the pavement. I held my breath, silently sobbing and telling the world of, and dashed for the road in as few steps as possible.
Hoping to find a car wash, Allison drove to a gas station. It’s funny, really. The only wound I received that night was not from the accident, but from a bloody paper cut that I received as I reached for a pen and my sketchbook. We got to the gas station and I stormed off in search of a restroom where I could a) attend to the wound and b) give my shoes some much needed TLC.
As she drove us back to our respective homes, I began to feel nauseated and wondered if there was something wrong with that sushi.