SXSW Diary: Day 2 NO ONE GOT RAPED!
by Jamie Stellini & Jessie Murphy

Jessie Murphy, of NY band The Love, confirmed cuddle-sleeper.

I woke early Saturday morning pinned under the substantial and shapely leg of Jessie Murphy, her left arm draped over my waist. I quickly put a stop to her dreamy molestations and rolled her neatly to the other side of the bed. When she woke and I informed her of her tomfoolery, she pleaded with me to tell no one. “Not a soul!” I said.

I lied.

At 11am, our hosts couldn’t wait to stuff us with more Tacos – this time courtesy of Mi Madres. For some reason, Texans set out to accomplish most of their taco consumption before noon, believing it to be a breakfast food of some sort. Yet pizza, a dish they really have no business making at any time of day or night, is produced and consumed around the clock.

Jessie got the chicken taco salad and I got the migas platter and I am still, 5 days later, choking on the acid churned up from this delicious and, ultimately, painful meal Texas cuisine was not kind to Jessie either, as she has a sensitivity to <ahem> spicy foods. Before every bite of sauce-laden or tomato-based food-stuff she would hopefully inquire, “Is it spicy?” to which we would respond, “Not really,” only to discover that Jessie’s “Not really” sits somewhere on the Texan scale next to milk and her “Spicy Enough to Send You Into an Asthmatic Coughing Fit” isn’t too far down. So basically, she’s a pussy.

Across the street, I noticed a flyer for a women’s feminist literotica workshop, meeting weekly with a recital at the end. “Jamie, I bet you could really rock something like that,” encouraged Jessie. But we all know, Mama don’t need no workshop for that shit! However, I probably could use a seminar on Caucasian usage of African American colloquialisms.

The rest of the day gets a little fuzzy due to an afternoon-swallowing 3-hour coma. Jessie and I rehearsed around 8pm and then headed out with our new-found crew to Hole in the Wall – apparently a local favorite. (Have you ever seen The Accused?) This is what happened there:

1) We all discovered that Fat Tire, a Colorado brew, has managed to achieve some status as a coveted regional beer while tasting sour and bad.
2) I lost a lock of my hair to Andrew in a misguided card-trick bet (Has anyone ever won one of those?).
3) We played Hearts.
4) Jessie learned how to play shuffleboard (and won).
5) No one got raped!

At our next stop (the Red Scoot Inn) the evening took a delightful turn when we found ourselves in a dance circle amid Mexicans of varying ages grooving to “Don’t Leave Me This Way” on the jukebox. It was like my sister’s wedding, except with a bunch of Old Mexicans instead of a bunch of Old Italians. And I didn’t sing “Love on the Rocks” and run out of the room in tears.

Later that night, in our guesthouse, Jessie and I reflected on our second day in Austin.

Jamie: No fish tacos today.
Jessie: Not today.
Jamie: Maybe tomorrow?
Jessie: I should hope so.

Jessie’s Rebuttal:

First and foremost, I must answer Ms. Stellini's unfounded cries of molestation. I am by nature, a cuddle sleeper. If you sleep with me in bed, I will cuddle you. Matter not, your shape, size, sex or level of desire-ability, come sleep all breathing mammals are created equal in my arms. And might I mention that Jamie smells like baked goods in the morning? Seriously, upon first waking she emits an odor of waffles. I am deadly serious. It scares me. I would so never go camping with her, too alluring for bears.

So, on to her next accusation which was issued around the breakfast table of Maya and her fine sister, Lori. Accusation: That were we to in fact become Simon and Garfunkel (by some feat of wizardry of which I know not the likes) I would be Garfunkel, and it would be perfect because I have the makings of a proper Jew Fro.

She issued this statement from between the clouds of a large, brunette halo of frizz and curls, while my locks were styled smoothly and blondly into a Legolas-inspired ponytail Granted, without the right creams and styling tools, and were my hair to be short, it could perhaps APPROXIMATE the radius and depth of FRO that fine Jamie had achieved on that humid Austin day, it would not necessarily make me into a "Garfunkel."

(She's right about the day spent in Food Coma though.)

Saturday night we had a fine time boozing it up on the nasty Fat Tire and other assorted brews. We also met the nice boys (or one nice boy, Chris) of Strike Fire Fall and his coolio friend Ryan who was at the Festival playing with some band of which I forget the name!

But the point is after our Mexicana dance party we brought them and their comely friend, Heather, back to our guest house and had a Phil Collins/Death Cab for Cutie dance party. And then we jammed and Jamie accused Chris of playing the ungodly "College Strum" which he then dubbed, "The Frat House Shuffle." Somehow, we all remained friends.


CONTINUE DAY 1 DAY 3

Jamie Stellini and Jessie Murphy lead the New York band The Love. They are currently recording their first full-length release.