Last night I sat on a comfy red couch with my pals Amy and Amanda and talked about all the hilarious things that had been yelled to us by people on the street during our times in cities. Amy shared stories about the leering/catcalling street folk Downtown, and Amanda told us about the time the ubiquitous aggressive white lady (you can see her from Downtown to East Memphis, if you pay attention) tried to get money from her and her hubs, Brandon, but they said sorry and then tried to back out of Midtown Video, onto Union, and aggressive white lady yelled at them, “PLEASE CRASH!!!”
All this reminded me of the time Amber was in San Francisco and received some of the best heckling I’ve ever heard. My brain is made of Nerf material, so I’ve forgotten many of the specifics, but I believe there was a shining, clear moment in which a San Francisco street-dweller looked Amber up and down and proclaimed, loudly, “BITCH, YOU CAN’T DRESS!”
I’ve had my own run-ins with Teh Crazy here in Midtown. One time I was getting gas at the On The Run (I think it was a Tigermarket/mart at the time) on McLean/Poplar and this dude with a bleeding headwound stumbled up to me and announced that I shouldn’t be afraid because he just had HIV. Another time at another gas station on Union, I was getting panhandled by some dude who said he was trying to get money to get back to Hardin County (nice try, sucka; I know you looked at my plates), and then someone else sauntered up and started panhandling my panhandler. It was pretty heavy. And, I’ve seen, many many many times, people just standing around, yelling at themselves or the sky or maybe their invisible Bluetooth earpieces. (I can’t find the damn posts or I’d just link them. Archive search fail.)
I don’t necessarily enjoy being accosted on the street by random weirdos, but I do generally enjoy the stories I get out of the experience. I really love how some people in Memphis are so hung up on our panhandling problem, as if it’s worse here than anywhere else. (I’m sure someone will swoop down into the comments to give me the business about why this is true; save it, kids, because I don’t really care.) I just halfway figure it’s something that comes with the territory of city life. Shit, I was in Chattanooga for 24 hours and we got panhandled four times. No one should have to deal with aggressive intimidation or fear of harm, of course, but at the same time, you have to expect that if you’re out in public, you might have to interact with people, and maybe even people who might ask you for things. Blah blah equivocatingcakes.
Last night as I was walking home from Dave and Amy’s at midnightish, not four hours after the conversation about aggressive white lady, I saw her coming toward me, pushing a shopping cart. I always get a little weird about meeting people on the sidewalk. My impulse is to smile and say hello, but you never know when a nod or a smile is going to open up a confrontation of sorts, and at midnight when you’re walking home alone, confrontation is not what you want. But, chuckling to myself at the weird timing, I decided I’d at least say hi in passing.
I did so, and she reciprocated and I thought that was that, until I got ten steps away from her and she turned and yelled, “HEY, DO YOU WORK AT THE LIBRARY?”
I half turned and said, “No!” and kept walking.
She wasn’t done with me. “WELL, I SEEN YOU SOMEWHERE!”
Yes, lady, I know. That’s why you’re ubiquitous.
Is she short and rather round, with reddish hair? ‘Cause she’s a staple on my street. This woman used to walk everywhere with her boyfriend, but about six feet behind him! Weird….
I have to say, though, that in twenty years of walking the streets of Midtown I’ve only been seriously afraid three times.
The Bunny and I went into an IHOP in midtown Memphis one night after a show at the Deli. On the way in, a panhandler asked us for cash, we said no and walked inside for our dinner. While eating, a man sitting by the exit door finished his rooty tooty fresh and fruity and busted through the door, setting off alarms, and causing a mob of Middle Eastern IHOP owners to go running down the street after him, leaving us inside eating all alone. Upon leaving, another panhandler asked us for money outside, and it pissed off the first guy, who said, “Bitch, I done ax them. Shit..”
Do you think this is crazy? The night ended with the two men fist fighting over whose beneficiary we were, though we didn’t give cash to either one of them. We pulled out of the parking lot watching them tussle with one another..
the nice part about walking around solo is that not too many guys ask me for money. they don’t mind making sucking noises thru their teeth at me, but i think they’re afraid that if they ask for money i’ll mace them.
when d and i were in g’town, we were exiting a liquor store and this guy asks us for spare change. we said the requisite all too apologetic ‘sorry, man’ and he starts circling us on his bike while calling us liars. we were driving my brother’s expedition and as we were walking up to the truck the guy kept saying stuff like ‘y’all er a buncha punks, don’t tell me you ain’t got 25 cent and yer driving that thing around. i know yer lyin i know you are. punks…’
good times.
M, Yeah, I bet that’s her. She’s a card. Also, that’s a pretty good fear ratio you’ve got going, I think.
B, Lordy lord, that’s a great story. That IHOP is kind of like the Rite Aid in that you never know what crazy shit will happen when you go there.
S, Wow, Germantown has panhandlers too? It’s not all spun sugar unicorns and cotton candy dreams out there?