Do you remember the time that you went to the wrong city to go to a civil rights museum?
By: Rochelle The Comic
Tags: Criminal Minds, Civil Rights, Museums, Black Women, Alabama

STORIES FROM THE ROAD

Do you remember the time that you went to the wrong city to go to a civil rights museum? I remember. I thought I was going to the Legacy Museum and National Memorial for Peace and Justice. It’s the one with the lynching exhibit in Alabama.

I was ready for it. So six plus hours later I find myself pulling into the Holiday Inn parking lot in Birmingham, Alabama.

I get settled — which isn’t as easy as you might believe. One, because I packed as if I was going to be gone a month instead of a weekend, but the second reason is better. So I go up the elevator to my floor, and am greeted with the scent of unhappiness. Now, I don’t actually know what the scent of unhappiness smells like, but that is how I felt when I got off the elevator. If you can smell stench through your COVID-19 mandated mask then it really stinks. Funny enough, there was a wet floor sign near the elevator. Maybe they mopped up broken dreams before I got there because that is the only thing I can imagine smells like that. So as I walk down the corridor to my room, I am very happy that I was getting farther away from the scent that greeted me (smacked me sounds too violent). You get the picture.

However, when I got to the end of the corridor to my room, I decided this wasn’t the room for me. For a very particular reason, the door was open. That’s right. Cracked open door and dark room beyond it. Uhm, I have seen enough Criminal Minds episodes to know this wasn’t going to work for me.

I also peeped that my room was right next to the stairwell. So in short order I had created a whole story of what was going to happen. I was going to go in whistling and bopping my head totally oblivious. Once I closed the door, but before I could turn on the lights, I would get bopped on the head like Little Bunny Fufu was doing those field mice, assaulted and then the loser would leave out of the back stairwell. And since I am both Black and a Woman, getting justice would be something my family begged for on television but probably would never get. Sooo….

I went back down that hallway with the audible narrative of “I bet I don’t” on replay interspersed with “What I look like?” When I got back to the check-in desk, the lady bopping behind her pink mask had no problem changing out the room. She was like that’s right! Also, notice I DID NOT ask for someone to go check the room — a la Color Purple — I don’t know them either.

So I wasn’t going back to that room for any reason. Look, I could have been overreacting, but I also wasn’t going to be able to sleep while jumping at every creak.

Shoot, when I got to my new room, same place just two floors up -sans funk — I checked the room with my bag propping up the door just in case I had to run back out. Granted, I would probably have tripped over it trying to run out, but hopefully, the sound of me eating it as I fell into the hallway would make enough noise to bring some folx out of their rooms. Or at the very least, make my attacker laugh enough to dissuade the prick from assaulting me. Hey, whatever works.

When I got in that room, I even checked under the bed and moved a chair to block the door to the adjoining suite.

I must say though, when I was looking under the bed, I thought, if someone is under here, I’m done. It took a lot for me to get down there in the first place. It was going to take too long for me to get back up. I already stare at things I drop to decide if I really need them anymore. Getting up quick enough to get away from well…a dust bunny would be unlikely. But I did it anyway because…

A little suspicion never hurt anyone. But too much trust definitely has.

Oh, by the way, the Legacy Museum is in Montgomery, Alabama not Birmingham. Yep. Completely wrong city. Oh well, there is a lovely Civil Rights Institute in Birmingham. I have my ticket. Now, to the bar. I need a drink.