Hello everybody! First things first — I’m alive and well. My socials have gone dark for the last few days for reasons that I can’t really get into at the time being, but just rest assured that I’ll be back posting your regularly scheduled unhinged shower thoughts and the occasional horny poem when the time is right. For this brief interim, I’ll be using this very blog to communicate my thoughts to the world.
And right now, those thoughts are kinda bittersweet. Because this is my final night in St. Louis, Missouri, a city that was previously unknown to me, but has since become something of a second home to me.
I remember when my boss first floated past me the idea of sending me via plane to train up some folks in a new region of the country. I should probably mention what I do for work before I go much further. I host game shows for local bars. I’m basically Alex Trebek for the drunken trivia enthusiasts of Kalamazoo. And occasionally, the parent company I work for sends me to new places to start up trivia and music bingo shows there. Like last autumn, I made a series of trips to Chicago. But even for those trips, I drove my own car. Getting shipped out to St. Louis was entirely new. The first few times, they flew me down, which was already a whole ordeal considering I was traveling with this thing in my suitcase:
The flights were mostly uneventful, although I found I enjoy killing time in airports a little too much. Did you know you can buy lipstick from airport vending machines?! I promised myself I wouldn’t waste money on anything stupid, but I did need a new dark red, since my old favorite was discontinued. As a result, I am now the proud owner of a Kylie Cosmetics lip kit. Well, as proud as I can be considering it’s got Kylie Jenner’s name on it, and she irks me to no end for a slew of petty reasons.
The hotel they put me up in for all five weeks was a humble Best Western, and honestly, I can’t complain at all. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s comfy. There’s waffles in the morning. Hotel waffles just hit harder, okay? And the front desk lady was a total dear. She came out to one of my shows, actually. I wish I could remember her name. If you’re reading this, Sweet Front Desk Lady, just know I appreciated you!
In fact, I met so many kind people in this town. The owners and bartenders of the first bar I hosted at, Brothers Beer and Bourbon, welcomed me with open arms, and I befriended many of the patrons as well, including a really cool silver-haired woman who loves green and listens to Sabrina Carpenter. We talked for a long time after the show last night, and that was really the first time it hit me that this is goodbye. The owner of the bar made me his special cocktail, the Hippie Mule, one last time to take back to the hotel with me. (It’s a nonalcoholic version of a Moscow mule that substitutes the vodka for THC liquor, so it’s perfect if you’re Cali sober like me!) I actually teared up a little as I sipped it. The trivia show I started there has begun to take off, and now my baby’s grown and ready to thrive on its own. It feels good, if a little somber.
The second bar, OSP Tap Haus, was also a lot fun to host at, even if they only had me for two nights. That bar has one of the best (and only) nonalcoholic porters I’ve ever had, Deschutes NA Black Butte, which I am going to proselytize to every bar in the greater Kalamazoo area until they start carrying it too. Music bingo there was a little more subdued than I’m used to — my main shows back home always get wild — but it was still a blast. I’m sad I didn’t get a chance to try any of the food there though.
That was just my shows, though. I took myself out on lots of field trips while I was down here as well. I figured I’d have way more fun exploring the city than sitting alone in my hotel room. I checked out the Missouri Botanical Gardens, which was packed with so much vibrant life. I really enjoyed the arid climate atrium, which housed a little oasis in the center that looked like it belonged in Marrakech, not the Midwest. The fountain made for a great impromptu photoshoot.
Here’s a sheep sculpture that was part of a series of sheep sculptures. The artist’s write-up said they intended the sheep to be used as benches and encouraged people to pose with them, which I thought was kind of neat.
And here’s some flowers:
The zoo was an enjoyable excursion as well. I managed to get real close to some hippos and a polar bear, and I spent literally a half hour watching an elephant play with her food. She keep picking up hay with her trunk and slamming it down, watching it flurry in the air. I also rode the carousel, because I literally do not give a flying fuck if I am well into my thirties now, I am holding fast to my sense of whimsy ‘til the day I die. Listen, do you want to be a stuffy adult who has no fun, or do you wanna ride an ostrich?
Blueberry Hill was the last thing on my list of stuff to check out here, and I made sure I swung by at least for a little bit tonight. I’d be remiss as a musician if I didn’t plan a trip to such an important and historic landmark in music history. Chuck Berry, a St. Louis native, performed there regularly, and he’s one of the founding fathers of rock and roll. It was certainly humbling to stand where he probably stood there at that bar. Sadly the stage wasn’t open for me to check out, but at least I got to take a look at some of the memorabilia scattered about. I wish I would have snapped a pic of one of Chuck’s famous gitfiddles that were sitting behind glass near the entrance.
As of writing, it’s almost 2:30 and I have to be up in two hours to catch my flight back to Michigan. I might not even sleep, to be honest. I kind of just want to sit up and let it all sink in. My heart is in Kalamazoo, but now I know I’ll always have a home in St. Louis. It’s funny — before I came here, I didn’t even know how to pronounce the name of the city. Like, I always assumed the “s” was silent (like in Louisville, Kentucky, where you will probably be crucified and subsequently fed to the local fauna if you articulate that “s”). I also never realized how vast and metropolitan it was. I’m a Midwesterner through and through, and while Midwest emo and Chappell Roan have done a decent job making us look cool in the media, we still have a reputation as “flyover country.” I’ve lived in this region my entire life and I’ve heard it again and again that Chicago and maybe Detroit are the only cities here worth visiting. This trip taught me that that’s simply untrue. There are so many hidden gems out there, and I’m blessed to have a job that allows me to go out and explore them at times. St. Louis has been so good to me, and I’m already plotting my next trip down here. I can’t not come back, even if it’s just for one more Hippie Mule.
Until we meet again, St. Louis!
JESSA JOYCE 