Daily Double: The Dreamhack Experience™ Part 3 – When “Get Out” meets Austin

(Part 1 and Part 2) I think it goes without saying that I’m an equal opportunity employer when it comes to women. If you’re bomb, then you’re bomb. How much the sun has made out with your skin is nothing more than an observation. I may have my preferences, but nobody gets disqualified on grand principle. In fact, it’s a secret goal of mine to taste all the colors of the rainbow. I’d say I’m about halfway there and honestly I feel like I won’t get a chance to finish, but I’ma do my best coach. I will say I was slightly disappointed in the scarcity of brown skin honeys in Austin. Maybe they were all hiding or something, but it turned into Where’s Waldo pretty fast. Well, until I ended up at University of Texas at Austin of course. Mmmm diversity.

I mean I still look like a college kid so I totally blended in, luggage and all. UTA’s campus is beautiful and surrounded by a nice collegiate bubble of Chik-Fil-A’s, a year-old In and Out (I know!), and a bunch of other random shops/food establishments. Not to mention it’s only a couple miles away from downtown. Lowkey wish I considered it nearly ten years ago. I get my tourist on per usual by taking in the nice architecture; both female and stonework of course. I won’t lie, I really miss those college vibes. Optimism tempered by half smiles and all-nighters just to pass a five unit elective class. Everyone was going about their business though. I was halfway expecting someone to call me out for being an imposter student then subsequently forming an angry mob of non-descript Longhorns to run me out of the campus. Sadly, that never happened otherwise this would be a much more entertaining post.

No impromptu college excursion is complete for me without scoping out the Black Student Alliance because they’re all so diverse in terms of operation and conduct. I’m not a huge subscriber to such organizations, but I think they’re pretty important. I can’t willfully ignore the impact my local org had on me connecting with my peoples. Even though it devolved into a cliquey bundle of bullshit, the intent was there. Naturally I got lost and passed it within the first ten minutes of me being on campus. And right as I was about to go in I decided, against my better judgment, to check an email from a prospective opportunity. Suffice to say I got pretty salty after seeing “While your essay was great…” Yes, please. Go ahead and placate me with platitudes. That’s exactly what’s gonna make me feel better. Top notch boys.

As I’m stewing and realizing why things panned out the way they did, I figure to get some air. I proceed from the Multicultural Building within the commons area to an outside patio area with people nose deep into their laptops or lattes. I take a seat adjacent from a busy walkway and there’s a handful of birds picking at a trashcan about four feet away from me. One starts squawking and clearly I’m the only one surprised by this because nobody bats an eye at this display. Bird legit looked like he ate a couple Xanax by accident. So Cracky the Bird is going crazy on some burger wrappers. I finally have enough and try to shoo him away. He’s not having it and then flies to another table and continues his druggie calls. At this point I just concede. This is his hood after all.

I’m just sort of relaxing and people watching when this woman comes to sit across from me at the table. I don’t really subscribe to our weird American social norms of “if one person seats at a table for 4, that’s their table” so I didn’t think much of it. Keep in mind I have headphones in as a deterrent for curious souls as this trip was purely for recon and blending in. Next thing I know ol girl, we’ll call her Jenny, takes it upon herself to interact with me despite my clear Do Not Disturb aura. But instead of a normal greeting I hear “Ay bruh, what’s good with chu fam?” accompanied by a large shit-eating grin. Now this was about the whitest woman I’ve probably seen in my life. If this was the 1800s I’d prolly get lynched just for looking her way type shit. And obviously her level of enunciation just made the whole phrase sound like glass on glass. I’d trust Mr. Rogers’ ghost telling me he was dropping a mixtape before I believe this girl was “down” with anything that didn’t involve Starbucks, LOVE PINK, or how Kylie Jenner’s Pepsi ad was “inspiring”.

Mind you, I’m still trying to process what the fuck I just heard, so I take out my earphones and just look at her. She was legit a 9/10 in the looks department so I was having trouble figuring out how to even approach the situation. So I settle on “So is that the best pick up lined tailored to non-white men that you can come up with? Because that was pretty lame.” Now people are staring at us, great. I noticed a group of guys out of the corner my eye fail at sneaking glances at this girl. She goes “Nah, I’m just tryna holla, you know. You looking like my next baby daddy.” At this point Jenny can’t contain herself and starts busting out laughing, halfway apologizing through each guff. I smirk because this was just sad. It’s one thing to joke with somebody you know and another to be desperate for some attention on this level. I say “Well if none of your past three baby daddies stuck around that’s a clear warning. I think I’ll pass Becky. I’m sure there’s a Hannah around here with a big booty that’ll treat me right. My dad said to leave the white bread alone anyway.” Exit stage right.

I walk out of the patio area past a group of guys that probably thought I was insane for blowing off someone that physically attractive based on their open mouths and angled eyebrows. Patronization is the fastest way to my shitlist. Especially premeditated facetiousness such as that. Homie don’t play dat. I figure to continue my exploration and to distance myself from the crime scene. I get about fifteen feet before I feel a tug on my arm. I turn around and take a defensive stance only to see that it was my good friend Jenny. Part of me wanted to slap the shit out of her, but most of me knew I wouldn’t make it to that plane if I did. So casual me and Jenny are standing in the middle of this walkway staring at each other. She goes “Oh my god dude, I’m so sorry for being so stupid back there…I thought being silly and acting down would be kind of funny.” Bitch, in what world is acting as a caricature and embodying a stereotype funny to someone it’s directed towards? The logic. But everyone deserves a second chance so instead of giving her a followup burn, I parley. I go “I don’t know who that works on, but whoever it is prolly doesn’t respect themselves enough to tell you to knock it off. Or they only want to smash. There’s nothing funny about hearing that shit, real talk. You’ll be hard pressed to build anything meaningful with that shit-ass strategy”

Jenny agrees then offers Starbucks (called it) and her company as restitution. See I should have declined and went about my business, but I had been carrying 20 pounds worth of luggage for nearly six miles in 85 degree weather with the sun beaming on my black ass. My back and various crevices were slick with sweat. The thirst was real. I mean she was fine too. Ignorant white woman or not. Animal brain is a doozy. Turns out she’s a UTA student; a senior Bio-chem major. I then understood why she thought she could run game. Ridiculously attractive woman in the sciences? Yeah those nerds put her on a pedestal soon as entered any of her classes I’m sure. She asks what I’m doing in Austin. I ask her to guess to stay under a semblance of anonymity because I was getting some psycho vibes from those deep blue eyes.

She guesses that I was a sophomore in chemical engineering with a minor in sports medicine. Not gonna lie, I was pretty flattered she thought I was smart enough to do anything with math beyond adding the bill and tip to correctly when I go out to eat. I confess I’m numerically challenged, revealing in fact, that I am a philosophy/creative writing major that graduated four years ago. I figured that she’d prolly get up and leave my dirty liberal arts ass Frappacino-less, but to my surprise she let out a long sigh. Then she said, “Thank god, somebody outside of science.” Then she paused a bit and then turned beet red, smirking a little. I asked what’s with the sinister look. She goes “I’m just excited to meet somebody outside of my field that’s black and beautiful.” Okay, initially that really sounded endearing…for about 15 seconds. I laughed, half-sincerely and half-concerned. I’ve seen Get Out.  I’m hip to the scam Jenny. So I say “Actually I’m Brazilian so you get partial credit. Plus I plan on taking my organs with me, so don’t get any ideas.”

Without missing a beat she says “Not if I have anything to say about it,” with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on a white woman that was not within sniffing distance of a Coach store. Legit did not believe that level of determination existed. Part of me goes “nigga you betta run!” mode, but I’m also curious. Big mistake. I play it cool, say something cheeky and flirtatious. It’s well received. Which is great because three people were stabbed that day on the UTA campus and I wasn’t trying to be next. I finish my drink and thank her for the impromptu borderline kidnapping conference. She asks where I have to be so soon that I can’t hang out more. Probably should have lied, but I admit I had a flight to catch in a few hours. I don’t know why her eyes lit up, but I didn’t pay it much attention. She volunteers to chill with me until I head out to the airport. I was fine with that; at least if she tries some shit my driver and some bystanders would be witnesses. We chat for a while then I call up the ridershare a couple hours before my flight. When he pulls up I tell her it’s been real, but I gotta jet (ha). Instead of defeat in her face, there was a lot of excitement. Pretty weird.

I didn’t care to find out why so I toss my stuff in, hop in the backseat, and chuck the deuces to Jenny after telling my driver to take me to the airport. No sooner than this man puts the car into drive, the backseat door opposite me flies open. He lets out an audible “What the fuck!?” We both direct our attention to the determined white woman about to sit on my luggage. I was much too stunned to even object. Jenny sat her supple yoga-panted ass in the middle seat as though everything was fine. The driver, now composed, looks back at us with poorly concealed irritation in his voice. “She with you bud?” Now, the prudential thing would be to say no, get this gorgeous yet insane woman away from me. But I’m on vacation, YOLO and all that. So I say she’s with me and that we had a slight miscommunication. He half-buys the story, but prolly was too irritated for further inquiry. He puts on his shades and says “Well alright. If y’all are knocking boots I’ll request y’all wait until after y’all are settled at the airport.” Creepy and unsolicited comment, but whatever. Jenny was unfazed though and look at me, cheesing hard.

So with that all diffused, I ask her what the fuck her problem is, to which she responds “Eh it’s Monday.” So you just stalk random black men on Mondays regularly or what? I mean I did put myself in that situation so I can’t complain too hard, but as a black man in a car with 2 white people I didn’t know like that, I was not comfortable with this scenario should some shit go down. Not to mention the cardigan Jenny was wearing is now off promptly revealing that she was not wearing a bra. Nipples were in full effect through a thin pale blue shirt. I’m sure my driver saw the goods too because he started choking on his spit or something after glancing in the rear-view mirror. And homegirl is well-endowed, let me just preface that. So casual me is stuck in this car with an insane black male fetishist and a conservative middle aged creep/driver. A driver who nearly got us killed by a semi by veering into another lane while ogling at this woman’s chest. Great.

After ten minutes I couldn’t take it anymore. This was recipe for disaster. I turned to ask Jenny what she was hoping to accomplish with distracting the driver. To which she responds by putting a leg over me. Alright, we’re definitely going to die now. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such heat radiating from a vagina, but I could have legit toasted some marshmallows between her legs. She attempts to scoot closer then the car jerks into the next lane again. My driver is as red as a lobster. He apologizes and blames some random car. I’m trying to figure out what he was looking at and I happen to look toward Jenny thighs. Camel toe for days. This is getting out of hand now. I push her leg off me and ask her what her deal is. She whispers in my ear that men constantly throw themselves at her and I was the first in a long time to dismiss her straight up. She levels with me that she was pretty mad then really turned on. At least she’s honest; I probably didn’t help by providing a substantive conversation. I’m like alright, that makes sense. Denial either emboldens or deters people. Then she goes 0 to 100 saying “That dick is going to be mine one or another.” Oh if I was five years younger and a UTA student that probably would have been a thing.

But 27-year-old me has a lot of goals that don’t involve banging overzealous women I’ve only known for three hours. I felt the collective Darth Vader-esque “Noooooo!” of millions of horny college men across the country as I contemplated how to deny this woman. But before that, I had to ask what she was planning to do once we got to the airport. Apparently she was going to get in my luggage. At least she has a sense of humor. Then she said she was going to cry until I didn’t fly back to LA. If she wasn’t bat-shit insane I might’ve considered staying in touch. But jumping into a rideshare on a whim… that yung disqualification. Keep in  mind the driver is hearing this whole convo. I don’t know what he thought of the situation, but he sure as shit kept quiet. We arrive at the airport and I’m about to get out the car except my left arm had been commandeered. This girl legit was holding onto it. Flashbacks to one of my exes ensued. So much time spent prying that girl off me. Can’t do the cling fam.

I snatch my arm back, close the door, and didn’t bother looking back. I wasn’t going to give this harpy hope. Next thing I know, the window rolls down and she yells that we didn’t exchange info. I tell her to add me on Facebook under Zimbabwe Slim then duck into the airport crowd. Not sure what the driver did after all that, but it wasn’t my concern. He prolly spat game to her, who knows. Oh how every fiber in my being wanted to make that fatal mistake. I won’t front. I was more than ready. But there are millions more sane women that look comparable or better that won’t try to harvest my manhood. Austin was bomb though. I feel like the third time I go out there will be the last. Yes, that was foreshadowing *oooooo*