St. Louis Keeps It Gully. Or, Last Night Was the Most Embarrassing of My Life

Will not hesitate to punch you.

When I moved to St. Louis, I carefully selected a place to live. I wanted to be close enough to school that commuting would not be onerous or time consuming, but not too close, lest the lure of a nap take me away from school each afternoon. In this city of cars, I wanted to be near nightlife and restaurants so that I wouldn't have to always be concerned with designated drivers. And, like anyone else, I wanted to find a place that would be safe.

I settled in the Central West End, a nice place with lots of young professionals, students, and teachers. It's a short drive to campus, it's within walking distance of many restaurants, and it's safe. Not far from my home is the intersection of Lindell Boulevard and Euclid Avenue. Lindell is a street that, by various names, runs from the Mississippi River to the western edge of St. Louis City. Euclid is a central commercial artery in my 'hood. The corner where these two intersect is highly trafficked, well lighted, and busy throughout the day and night.

Last night, around 8:30, I was walking along Lindell, about to hit Euclid, when I saw three high-school-seeming girls standing on the block laughing and acting obstreperously. It was unruly, but it also was age appropriate. When I was 14, 15, 16, I spent a lot of time on various streets making noise and losing myself in the world I shared with my friends. As such, it didn't seem remarkable or worthy of consideration that to make my way home, I'd have to pass through this group.

Shame on me. St. Louis keeps it gully.

As I was passing through this group of girls, my first thought was that I was wrong: they were likely no more than 13, and not actually even in high school, yet. My second thought was somewhat different. It was one of shock. I was startled because I suddenly felt a fist burrying itself into my right side. It didn't hurt--you know I'm hardbody (and come on, it was a 13-year-old girl). But still, it was absolutely jarring.

A fist. A strange fist. Belonging to a 13-year-old girl. Making its way into me.

Who punches a complete stranger? In a nice neighborhood awash in street light? As it happened, time slowed down, because I couldn't fully process what was happening. It was surreal. Once it had transpired, I took a brief moment to gather myself before turning around and just exclaiming, "Excuse me?" It was the only thing that I could muster.

In response, my assailant just started cackling and cursing at me as she cavorted with her friends, who were similarly amused and celebratory. Then they started yelling some more and called me a punk as I just kind of slinked away, beffudled and embarrassed and amused. I mean, WHAT?!

So yeah. I was effectively emasculated and quasi-beat down by a roving pack of 13-year-olds on one of the safest street corners in America's second-most-dangerous city. Like I said, the STL is gully.

- Sean Price, "Violent"
This seems like the most appropriate response, really.