Downtown in a Short Dress

I showed up for the party and there was no party. In the middle of Sketchy Downtown, I was all alone, walking up and down alleys listening for techno thumps, trying to find a bouncer or a U-haul that might indicate where the dancing might be. I heard Kendrick Lamar’s “Humble” in the car on the way there, which I am still not sick of. My lyft driver was really nice — he inquired about where I was going and when I told him, he seemed super into the idea. He told me he was from LA, had lived here his whole life, but never been to an after-hours. He enthusiastically gave me his number, asking that I let him know the next time one of these events happens. I politely took down his info, but also gave him the name of the website/newsletter I get my events from, so that maybe it wouldn’t be entirely on me.

I had tights on but still felt exposed. I zipped up my jacket and it was about the same length as my dress, which wasn’t tight, but was short and compact, gave a good view of my legs, and clung delicately to my butt. I carried with me a small purse that had some cash inside. I heard some weirdos yelling out of car windows on a couple of instances, but I also walked by some weirdos who gave me sketchy looks. A couple silent, curious, but a couple who muttered or even half-shouted unintelligible bullshit. On one loop around the block, an older lady with a shaved head approached me very diplomatically, “Hi sweetie, you look beautiful tonight, can I just talk to you for a second? No need to be intimidated,” and asked if she could sing me a song. This is one homeless street offer that is difficult to refuse, so I let her proceed as I walked toward the next block. The song was about Jesus Christ, the religion guy. When she finished, I told her it was very nice, and when she asked me for money (I think she said she has a child on welfare), I gave her a five dollar bill, because she really did sing nice, and I was beginning to think that I might not be spending any other money tonight besides my lyft ride home. She sang me another song (this one, like the first, was about Jesus) but I did not enjoy it that much because I was getting anxious. I told her again that I liked her singing but I could not give her any more money. She politely left me alone, and mentioned again that I looked very beautiful tonight, but then added, “and also handsome,” so that ruined the whole experience. I ran into another guy who couldn’t find the party, and we figured it probably got cancelled. I called another lyft and went home. I heard “Humble” again, in its entirety.