Aquainted With the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain...
...I have been one acquainted with the night
-Robert Frost

Tonight I became a transient person for a while. I walked out in rain, and back in rain. I traveled the city streets as forgotten as one of them, clinging to doorways and awnings for shelter, eating food from a street vendor, and throwing the litter under a parked car. I made friends with two other transients; Kenny, who wanted to be my boyfriend and was afraid he'd blown it, and Carlos, whom I gave half of my bacon-wrapped hotdog to. He told me he'd pray for me.

Someone was praying for me tonight...

I passed my own reflection in a window; bedraggled, tired, and soaked to the bone. I stopped and stared for a moment. And for the first time, I saw what others might see; a pretty girl. A pretty girl who needed to do situps; but a pretty girl none the less. I was being repeatedly propositioned not just because the creeps were creeps. It was because some people like pretty girls who need to do situps. And somewhere out there, there were people who might even love them...Ironic that I should discover this at such a low moment, stripped of dignity, stripped of warmth, and bereft of hope, I found something I hadn't seen before.

Someone told me to be safe tonight...

I traveled on after resting by a sign for Jack Daniels and a velvet rope that led to a club called Eight. I ducked into a loading bay for a place that reminded me of Cobo Hall. I jumped a river that ran through a corsswalk, and felt my breath become harder to catch. And I wondered how it was that my stubbornness had led me to this moment. I looked down and caught sight of the word "love" stamped across my tattooed wrist and snorted at the irony. That's exactly what that tattoo means to me.

Seven blocks back was a club full of strangers I cared nothing about, abandoned for a city that cared nothing for me. I felt then that I understood what it was like to be truly alone. I was in the definition of alone, hoping the devil didn't notice that I was walking his threshold.

Someone once told me there is a cost to being free...

There was noone in the world that might come looking for me until morning should I disappear. There are no do-overs or takebacks when there is one bus standing between you and a night in an open doorway. If the devil doesn't find you.

I channeled someone else with all my might, giving off a vibe of "don't fuck with me" and pretending I had eighteen-inch arms and stood five-foot eight. Pretty girls who need situps aren't bouncer material. They are prey, and I was determined to show this fucking city I was not prey at all. I walked through its heart in the pouring rain, and reminded it that Detroit girls are not to be messed with. I dodged three intent suitors, two crack addicts, and a homeless dude that just wanted to be my boyfriend.

There is no-one waiting for me to come home...

I found the ultimate freedom I craved. I owed nothing to anyone and they owed me nothing in return. I got what I wanted--I just never counted on the cold breath of the city. I walked its heart in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain--a pretty girl alone and without fear. I have walked out in rain, and back in rain.

I once asked someone if their feeling of freedom was worth the price they were about to pay. I believe they might now retract their answer. I wonder if I am beginning to regret mine...