Why I Won’t Give You a High Five


I don’t know what it’s like to be a normal healthy person, but if you are, is it possible to stand and walk for 10 hours straight without feeling like a 90 year old woman walking to her own funeral? I’m genuinely curious. Either way, this year’s SXSW was not lacking in all out exhaustion. It also wasn’t lacking in glorious moments of other people’s intoxicated stupidity. My own most recent moment like this took place in London on the way home from Belushi’s near Fulham Broadway. Walking safely is always tricky (right?!) but it’s especially tricky when you’re a 20 year old American lady in London walking back from a bar. So, of course I broke my foot avoiding a crack which if stepped on, would of inevitably led to my mother’s broken back. (Check yourself before judgement is made). The best part about this was I payed absolutely nothing for my monster boot or my doctors consultation. (YES I am a total Commie!) Recently, I told a coworker this story.

“Maybe if you ate your bones would work correctly.”
Apparently, this is how men flirt now.

I assured him I was still chubby when I lived in London so he was stupid and also not allowed to speak to his boss that way. Did I mention how fun it is to be the boss of mostly men? And by men, I mean big boys that sometimes dress in adult clothing. And by adult clothing I mean tshirts with drawings of Lincoln and Washingon playing beer pong with the caption “political party.” (Don’t laugh, you’re better than that).

Either way, we were on our way to see Flaming Lips at Auditorium Shores when I get jumped by a frat guy demanding I give him a high five. I did not give him a high five. Now you’re thinking I am no fun, which, is sometimes true but either way this guy did NOT deserve a high five. (This coming from a girl who, two years prior, during SXSW, was running around 6th Street demanding miserable looking people give me high fives.)

This guy was really a boy so I’ll refer to him as such. He wore tight pants, a collared shirt, and his hair was a blonde, AC Slater throwback type mess. I scowled in the large crowd, waiting to cross and make our way to the venue and SURE I was getting impatient. But do you know what I didn’t do? Run across the street as the cars were still flying by. Unfortunately, homeboy was not as smart. This man-boy ran full speed across the street, succesfully dodging cars until BAM! The man-boy is doing a 360 aerial as the man driving the truck is all like “What the fuck just happened?” Man-boy totally rocked the guy’s side view mirror but by the grace of the drunken gods, man-boy was unfazed and totally spry.

For some reason, I really hated this kid. He could have been killed and that poor driver would’ve spent the rest of his life wondering how he could’ve prevented it. Why do people expect other people to look out for them when they don’t look out for themselves?

I felt a little bad after but as we walked across the street after the accident, the man-boy getting questioned by the cops, I yelled back, “Hey dude! High five!”

The joke was on me though when halfway into Jim James’ set I saw man boy in the 20 person line for a margarita. He was way ahead of me. Of course, the entire time in line I thought of all the cops I had come into contact with from that moment forward, the jerk that gave me a speeding ticket a minute after buying my car, the too excited boy cop who pulled me over for forgetting to turn my back lights on ASAP just to prove to me cops are nice by giving me a warning. I could not believe this little twerp was not only let into the venue but also NOT arrested for stirring up some serious shit. This is the moment where my teacher mode sets in and I’m all like ‘worry about yourself not about everyone else’ which is, of course, the mantra I spew to nosy, unappreciative tattle tellers who think they know it all. So it was time to take my own advice.

I watched manboy purchase his liter tall margarita, most likely with a fake ID, and proceeded to the mosh pit area to find everybody, the same mosh pit where two years prior I was peed on by a guy I would then help beat up. So, I think I’ve grown up in some ways.

Tell me about it, stud

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