me . I hit the ground hard on my knees . He ran . I did what I could . I used the weapon I had . I yelled after him in a hoarse , frightened , foreign voice , “ Asshole !” “ Coward !” “ ASSHOLE !!” Until I couldn ’ t yell anymore . The full moon was the only witness . The balmy night wrapped her arms around me and helped me get home to where my roommate held me while I cried and then made me tea and called the police while I cried some more .
What does it matter ? If he really wanted to hurt me , he could have . I don ’ t know why he didn ’ t . I ’ m thankful he didn ’ t . I now have to work through interesting panic attacks I ’ m having when people get too close to me . I ’ m now having to work on getting across the bridge at night again without hyperventilating . My girlfriends are helping me through it . A new journey has begun . This is … ok . I can let this fear grip me or I can say , What does it matter .
Yesterday , I tried a new cafe for my office . Which is where I am right now . Walking into a hip , new cafe to try out as your office is like walking into your new 10th-grade homeroom for the first time . I held my Karlovy Vary film festival book bag close to me as I navigated to my seat . With no alphabetical seating chart to assist , I was on my own . I chose to sit at a long lunch-room , communal type table , opposite a girl with a cool shaved head and a baseball cap . I sort of smiled . She sort of smiled . She returned to her shiny Mac . I pulled out my beat-up HP from 2012 only to discover I hadn ’ t plugged it in the night before . Battery was low . I needed an outlet . I had to move . Not fun on the first day . Everyone stares when you move . I had to do it . In three trips I moved my laptop , my Karlovy Vary book bag and my pens and pencils to a new table near an outlet . The last trip was to get my coffee . The coffee was in one of those cool glass beakers on a cool wooden tray . I used to be waitress in LA . I decided to carry the cool wood tray and cool glass beaker full of coffee like a waitress . Well . I dropped it . I was never a very good waitress . The coffee seemed to fly in the air and quadruple flop and splash all over me and my light grey tank top and a cute couple nearby until
cup and beaker landed in a loud , blustering crash on the trendy , reworked wood-beamed floor . And , just like when you drop your tray in the lunchroom , time stopped . Everyone stared . Thank God I ’ m an actress . I took a beat . Found my light . Then loudly delivered my sassy line ,” Sorry !”
I returned today . I look nice . I ’ m wearing lipstick and a dress that fits . When I walked in , I raised a fist in the air and called out “ ještě jednou !” ( once again !) to the server who recognized me and we laughed . We all “ struggle ” to work out our matters . Big and small . Scary and not scary . Hopefully we can remind ourselves that this is living . That this is life . And that ’ s what matters .
Now living in Prague from LA , Peppur ( www . peppurchambers . com ) is an actor , writer and creator / performer of Harlem ’ s Night Cabaret performed by the sultry , sassy , sophisticated and sometimes funny , Brown Betties . Her debut novella , “ Harlem ’ s Awakening ” is available on Amazon . com via 1888 Center publishing . She ’ s also created the award-winning webseries , “ The Brown Betties Guide : How to Look for Love In All The Wrong Places ” based on her book of the same title . www . brownbetties . com Email her at peppur @ brownbetties . com or follow her on Twitter @ BrownBettie . But really , go buy Harlem ’ s Awakening !
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