The window breaks and suddenly the bar, fully packed, falls silent. I head outside to find the bouncer running down the culprit. Should I chase after and help? All of the sudden I am sprinting in my skinny jeans trying to cut this person off. “I’m hella out of shape man”, I say to the guy filming me, running next to me with his camera. Picture this: camera guy chasing me, chasing the bouncer, who is chasing this person who broke the bar window. Rounding the corner, I see the bouncer running and finally see the runner a few feet in front of me. Dark hair, tan skin, pretty elegant tattoos…A woman?! – I’m pretty sure she’ll pop me in my face if I grab her, or even worse between my legs. Fuck it. “Let go of me!” she yells as I grab both of her hands. When the bouncer catches up, I release her. He proceeds to cuss her out. “What the fuck is your problem? Those windows had been around since 1866 you sorority bitch! Think you can whip out daddy’s check book at your problems? Fuck you!” Now she is crying her eyes out… I don’t think tears will help you right now. “I’m not some privileged sorority girl and I will pay for everything. I’m sorry! Stop yelling at me” she cries. “I had a bad day. Shit happens!” The crying makes me feel uneasy. I’m just going to dip out now.
“Are you okay? You have blood on your shirt!” The lady at the front of the bar asks me. I just bought this damn shirt! “She broke the window with her hand, and I got some on me when I grabbed her,” I said. “You caught her!?” Her eyes opened wide with amazement. Show the Leo some respect. Walking into the bar I feel eyes on me as they should be. Maybe it is the bloody shirt? Oh-well, I’ll break the ice. “Yeah, I caught her.” I’m catching a few applauds as I walk to where my friends are sitting. One of them kindly washes my shirt in the bathroom while another gives me a shirt to wear. To my surprise, she cleaned all of the blood off like magic. It is 2:00 AM. Hero time is over. People are still looking at me now. I’m kinda ready to go.
After I drop my friends off, I head back home. My dumbass thought I could make it back before I filled my car up with gas, but I was wrong. So here I am on the side of the frontage road with my hazard lights on, phoneless, maybe about two hours walking distance from my home. Guess it’s one foot in front of the other. After about 45 minutes of walking, I realize I am going in the wrong direction. Womp. All I can do is look up at the stars, which look amazing tonight. “God I’ve been fucking up lately. Okay, I’ve been fucking up a lot, but I still do good ya know? Now would be a good time, gimmie a sign that I am at least on the right track?” Ironically, I decide to turn around and make that dreaded 45-minute walk back to my car.
I wonder, should I just fall asleep in the car, rest up and make moves in the morning? Or should I wake my mom up and try to get home. I choose the latter and walk to a gas station to use the phone. “What time is it?” I ask the cashier. “It’s 4:20!” He replies with a crooked smile. Woah, his teeth are fucked up. I’m sure there’s a hygiene isle somewhere in here. After my mom says she is on the way, I make way back to my car. I open the trunk and sit in the back and wait. As cars pass by I wonder: if I saw someone stranded on the road, would I help them out? Not at 5 in the morning.
After an hour, I figure my mom must be lost. So I close the trunk and begin to head back to the gas station. Within 20 seconds, I hear the sound of a collision. A dreadful noise that I have heard one time too many. There is no way my car just got hit. No fucking way. I keep on walking to the gas station to use the phone. “Hey mom, it’s me again. Are you lost?” “I think I am close. What is near you?” she replies. Figures “There’s an HEB across from the shell. I am only a few meters away from it”. I tell her before I head back outside.
As I walk outside I notice that my car is considerably closer to me than it was when I left and the bumper, where I was sitting a few seconds before the accident, is fucked up. So I keep walking down and the car that hit mine is about 30 yards away. Meaning my car launched forward about the length of a swimming pool from where it was. Pretty epic, wonder what it looked like to see a parked car move this far. I should check out the driver. Am I going to see a dead body today? I walk down the road and see debris and window glass on the ground from both cars. The truck that hit me ended up hopping the curb and came to a stop in the grass. The grill of the truck was pushed in, the windshield had been completely shattered and a wheel was hanging on for dear life.
The driver was outside the car and on the phone with somebody. “Are you okay?” I ask him. “FUCK IM GOING TO JAIL. FUCK! WHY WAS YOUR CAR PARKED THERE?” “I ran out of gas,” I respond. Should I be mad at this guy or maybe upset that my car is totaled? Strange I feel so detached from this whole situation. “The hazard lights were on though”. “I DID NOT SEE IT UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE” Is he drunk? I am checking out his truck when he approaches me with a sly walk and says “Listen bro, I’m going to be straight up; I don’t have a license” Get the fuck out of here.. “bro”. Just to mess with him, I tell him that someone was bringing me gas shortly and all of this could have been nearly avoided. “FUCK!” he says one last time while kicking a headlight. His relatives show up shortly, an older woman and man, probably his aunt and uncle. Hold up! My mom was already on the way and his’ family showed up first! The woman tells me that she has to go home to get the insurance info and that she will be right back. The driver gets in the car with her and leaves the man to probe me at the crash site. Get up out of my face asking me questions like, “What were you doing tonight? Are you drunk right now? You don’t seem nervous.” Just then a car drives by knocking debris into the air. I shield my face with my hand to block flying glass coming my way while a piece of plastic hits me in the stomach. Fuck today. Yet all I can do is smile as I suck on my finger cut and spit the blood on the grass. At least it’s my blood this time. She comes back without the driver. Well this got illegal pretty fast. “Well you ran out of gas on the road. My insurance will cover our car and if your insurance will cover your car, then we do not need to call the police. He will go to jail if we call the police.” Well, you tried to play the game but you are not that smooth. Pretty poor try actually. Poker face. “Well I don’t want him to go to jail either” Tongue in cheek “My mom will be here soon.” “Who’s your mother?” The star of The Diary of an Angry Black Woman. “Her name is Marilyn.”
My mother arrives at the scene driving her car at a slow pace. “My car is fucked up,” I tell her in a normal voice. “Are you okay? Where’s the driver?” “She took him home,” I say. “WHAT? Why have you not called the police?” “My phone is broken.” The lady walks up to my mom and tries the same reasoning on my mother. To which my mom eloquently responds with “I don’t give a shit, he was hit from behind.” When the police show up, I reflect on what happened. If I didn’t think my mom was lost, I stay in the car and I’m murdered. If I had my phone, I stay in the car to make the call and I’m murdered. If my mom made it before I called and we are putting gas in the car, we both are murdered. The driver was eventually dropped back off at the crash site by somebody and was arrested as soon as he got out of the car. My mom and the cops said that I was strangely calm when they showed up. I really don’t feel anything. Guess I should be happy I’m alive. Yet, I feel nothing. I would like an orange juice though. “I’ve cheated death five times now that I just kinda swag it out. Leos have 9 lives, but I have 4 lives left now though.” She breaks down crying at the site and I realize that I have yet to sleep at all.
“Guess I am not going to sleep today,” I tell my mother as we get coffee and tacos. She is clearly happy that I did not die on Labor Day because we go get my phone repaired at a local place and head to the apple store and buy a case to protect it. A worker at the repair store walks up without speaking and closes the door. “NERD” my mom says out loud. She’s feelin’ silly. How old are we Marilyn? Haha.
Noticing my mom’s body high, I try to see what types of reactions I can get from her. “You know if I had my phone or believed you didn’t get lost, I stay in the car and it’s game over for me. You are picking up my brains off the pavement instead of picking up a new phone-case.” Graphic. She probably thinks I’m crazy for saying that with a smile. She’s not half wrong. “Oh Lord, you had angels watching over you….I…I can’t even imagine if you were in that car. I would have ran him over in the suburban and declared insane in court.” HA, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Still, I can’t kill her vibe. She is pretty much beaming with joy around the apple store and then she spontaneously buys herself an apple watch. Damn Marilyn, somebody is feelin’ herself.
Editor: Amanda Greigo
Vice Editor: Brittain Dalby
Creative Score: Brittain Dalby