I was driving back to the big city last night thinking about the perfect weekend I was leaving behind. I hung out with Betty with no drama, I hung out with High School Crush, had some quality family time, and got a nice tan while I was at it.
About an hour outside of the city I got this text from Betty…
“Mercedes just texted me all of this: Ran into Gizzy’s prom date last night. Pretty sure he’s in love with her lol. And I feel like every time I see him he’s wearing the same shirt. High School Crush something something. That’s what his shirt said. And he was asking if she had a bf, if she was dating that High School Crush dude, if she was still in the big city…Lol all up in her biz!”
Uhhh… hold the bus.
As you may recall, Mercedes and I haven’t been friends nor have we spoken in a year and a half because she’s a cum guzzling drama whore. So my first thought was forget prom date, why is SHE all up in MY biz? We are not friends.
This whole situation makes me nervous. You see, back when Mercedes and I were friends she ran into my date to the senior prom at a party, they got to talking and realized they both knew me. So they drunk dialed me. We all had a good laugh about it and I haven’t heard of them running into each other since then, probably 3 or 4 years ago.
Also if you recall, my prom date was/is one of High School Crush’s best friends, and I also drunkenly told HSC back then that I didn’t want to go to prom with the guy. Such a long dramatic history.
Anyway, this is bad. I’ve tried really hard to cleanse my life of bad people like Mercedes. And now this, something that is beyond my control. My biggest fear is that she’s still out to get me and will spill the guts to the prom date about my dating past (Snoop-Linus) and he’ll tell High School Crush all about it. And I’ll look like a weak insecure idiot.
Don’t get me wrong here, I am not trying to hide my dating past from HSC, but we haven’t gotten into all that. And frankly, if we never do I’ll be ok with it. But, if we do have the “Ex talk”, I want to be the one to tell him about the awful life changing relationship with Snoop-Linus. Because if Mercedes tells his friends the emphasis will be drugs, that he cheated on me and I stayed with him, and that I was crazy and looked through his stuff and was basically a stalker trying to figure out who and what he was doing behind my back. When I talk about it I’d like to take the emphasis off the bad decision that I made to stay with him for so long and the crazy that took over me and highlight the fact that I learned about all the things I don’t want in a relationship/partner. Obviously in the right situation with the right guy I won’t be like that again, because I won’t have to. But an ex-friend certainly won’t shed light on how awesome I am.
Anyway, High School Crush is still talking me today so if anything was said and it was passed down the line to him he’s ok with it or doesn’t care, because it’s still normal. So whatevs, I freak out for nothing.
So onto the good stuff, HSC called me on Saturday and asked me to come to his friend’s pool party. I had plans with my mom and sister so I told him I’d come later on that evening. When I got there it was our friend from high school (Closet Freak, if anyone is keeping track), his brother and the brother’s girlfriend, his sister, High School Crush’s sister, and her husband. And the friend’s mom.
As the night wound down HSC asked if I wanted to come back to his parent’s house and hang out, so I said ok.
A little back story here. In high school, Lucky and I were stalkers. We’d drive past the houses of the guys we liked jamming out to Justin Timberlake because it was an adreneline rush. Occassionally when we’d drive past someone’s house they’d be outside, recognize our car and stop us to hang out. I assume that’s why we did it, because we were losers and no one called us to hang out but if they ran into us they’d hang out with us by default.
So as we were about to leave the party I texted Lucky cracking up at myself saying, “I’m about to go to HSC’s parent’s house and I have to pretend like I don’t know where he lives.”
10 years ago if you would’ve told me I’d be going over to his house to hang out I would have slapped you in the face. But today? Not so shocking, and it was just like it would have been in high school. By the time we got there his parent’s were already in bed so we had to sneak around the house in the dark to get to the basement. He showed me his childhood room and we went back out to the tv hang out room to watch a movie. At that point I pictured 14 year old Gizzy and Lucky giving each other a high five. They would be so proud.
Yesterday embarked the day that I may have actually gotten myself a joberoo. I took my test at Gargles Swab and passed. GO ME! I HAVE A PULSE! So I went back yesterday for an “Info Session,” you would think that they were hiding out the president or at least Lindsay Lohan in this bitch the way security was. Like first you’re going into a gated parking lot so the attendant has to verify you don’t look like you’re going to blow the place up, then once you get inside the building they hold you in a little glass box and make you talk to security through an intercom while they watch you on cameras, then you have to approach the security desk, give them your drivers license so they can scan it and make sure you’re not a terrorist and then they give you a visitor’s badge, then you wait for the person who your appointment is with to come and escort you where you need to go. I mean that’s a lot of shit to do. You know me, here’s how I fucked it up…
I made it through round 1 with the parking attendant and whilst I’m chillaxin in the glass box the man on the intercom asks me why my eyes are bloodshot.
First I clear my throat, then I lean in so far that I’m basically tonguing the intercom, “Ehem, I got shampoo in my eyes.”
“Miss Gizzy, you can step away from the intercom, we can hear you just fine.”
Still tonging the intercom, “OH! Ok!”
“Miss have you been using drugs today?”
Taking a few seconds too long to ponder, “No. No I have not.”
Then they buzz me in. Typically when a buzzer goes off that means the door is open right? Wrong! I try and walk through the door and slam into it with my face. When I finally made it through the pearly gates I see the woman who is in charge of if I get hired standing there chatting about my drug use with security. As soon as we get into the “training room,” they let us know that some of us (me) may be subject to random drug screening pending employment. Which is fine, I really did get shampoo in my eyes so their drug test can suck my big fat pee sample. The things we do for a salary.
Later in the training room I caught myself eating old candy out of my purse again. Then I wondered if any of the 7 other people in the room noticed, so I got nervous and my mouth got dry and my body rejected the candy in an attempt to give me any kind of moisture in my mouth and I hacked it up. So here I am, red faced, red eyed, hacking up an old milk dud in front of my potential new employer. If they hire me I will be impressed with not only myself but their lack of good judgement.
Side note: Here is the picture text I just received from The Captain of his “Teddy Bunny”
Which is what I told him to text me a picture of instead of his naked body. Then I asked him what the deal was with the tiny fish in the background, cause what is he like 6? And he sends me this:
Which is kind of neat that he did himself. But still reminds me of something a child would have on their wall. He redeemed himself by telling me what the deal is with him and his girlfriend and saying that he is “done with it” and that talking to me is the “highlight of his day” these are all things I’ve heard before and I don’t believe it. Why? Because he is a man and men are lying cheating scumlords. I reciprocated by sending him a picture of Mercedes driving a Uhaul since he knows her too. Then he tells me that’s not the kind of picture he was thinking of. I mean what, you want me to send you a naked picture? OK! Then I can’t be Miss America if you leak the picture, you really think I’m going to waste my 1 shot at fame on sending you a nudie pic? NO SIREE!
I can just see the headlines now, “Gizzy forced to give up reigning title of Miss America due to naked text picture sent to Captain Morgan.” CHRIST! Who does he think I am? Pamela Anderson? I don’t just go around flopping my junk out for whoever wants to take a peak.
On that note, I think I better get to bed. I have big plans to wake up and watch Let’s Make A Deal and The Price Is Right tomorrow morning. God I love game shows.
Thursday was quite possibly the worst day of my adult life. I say my adult life because I don’t think I’ll ever have a worse day then when I pooped my pants on the first day of 7th grade. Oh wait. No one knows about that. Damnit. Cat’s out of the bag!
Thursday started out seemingly decent. I drove to my alma mater to attend the job fair. I stopped at 3 booths while there (I am such an over achiever) got 2 interviews and an invitation to apply online (Proctor and Gamble, just my luck.) One of the interviews was scheduled to happen on Friday morning and the other one will be down the road. My friend Kyle that works at the company said he would hook it up.
So I leave the job fair and hop in my car to go to my test which is about 65 miles away and I leave in PLENTY of time, 2 hours before I need to be there. I get 20 miles down the interstate and I hear a BOOM and see something fly out the back of my car. G-REAT! THEN I hear a scraping sound and every time I hit a bump something flies up and hits underneath my car. I pull off and see that my entire exhaust system has broken in half and is dragging the ground.
Thank the lord jesus for technology. I hopped on the horn to a near-by midas and they told me to “bring ‘er in.” $320 and 3 hours later I had missed the test but the hoopty was purring like a kitten. I went back to SHIT U to stay at Mercedes apartment so I could be well rested for my big interview the next morning.
I was SUPER stoked about this interview. It was with a software consulting firm so if they liked me I could be making 60K a year, get to live wherever I wanted in the continental US, get 4 weeks of paid vacation, have a 4 day work week, they fly me wherever I’m needed, AND they pay for my living expenses Monday – Thursday. So that means I would only have to pay to be alive 43% of the time. I thought I had a pretty decent shot of getting it considering I was wandering around the job fair aimlessly and one of their recruiters, Matt, approached ME to see what kind of job I was looking for. I’m on my way back to SHIT U when right on time I get pulled over. The officer clocks me going 69 in a 65. On the interstate. Like really fuck ass mother fucker, 4 over is subject to interpretation because what if your stupid ass radar detector is off or what if my gauge is off. Like seriously, FUCK THE PO-LICE! So not only does he give me a speeding ticket, he thinks I’m hiding something and searches my car. All he finds are some leftover bottles from events I’ve done IN THE TRUNK! I have no idea what the open container laws in this state are AT THE TIME and when he raises a stink about it I just say I thought it was fine since they were in the trunk and clearly I wasn’t drinking them. He proceeds to tell me that he is going to confiscate them but will let me slide with a warning this time. I flip him the bird behind his back (hope your fucking PO camera got that on film asswipe) and drive away going 64 miles an hour. Later I looked up the open container laws only to find that it is NOT illegal to have an open container in the car, and the passenger can be chugging away all they want and these dirty po’s can’t say a word about it, SHIT even the driver is allowed to drink as long as when you’re given a breathalyzer you blow under 0.04. So I could’ve been drinking the shit and not been breaking the law. You best BELIEVE I am filing a complaint. This state owes me some BOOZE!
Anyway, I get to Mercedes apartment and eat my feelings for a solid hour and a half when she tells me, Garbage is coming to go out tonight. Garbage is Snoop-Linus’ “good friend” and old roommate who Mercedes was weirdly attracted to. He has a greasy face, a HUGE nose, no personality, and basically sucks as a person so I don’t get it. Garbage and Mercedes date back to when Snoop-Linus and I first began dating, they drunkenly made out in a bar one night after we introduced them and she fell in love. Since then Garbage has stood Mercedes up, stolen her pot, stolen her booze, made her foot several of their dinner bills, pre-ejaculated, not ejaculated at all, not called her for months at a time, told her she was worthless and he could never bring a black girl home…. just to name a few. He SUUUUCKS! Out of all of Snoop-Linus’ friends I want him to drop dead the most. Not only did he screw over Mercedes, but he also screwed Snoop-Linus out of a nice apartment and thousands of dollars among other things, he also purposely and single handedly got me an F on a test and TRIED to screw me out of about $300. These are stories for another time. Just know, I hate him and wish him only the worst in life.
So, Mercedes is all excited because Garbage is coming to go out. I explain to her at least 50 times that she knows how much of a grubbing mooch he is and that she won’t see or hear from him until 4am when he wants to come get laid and smoke a bowl. Mercedes says “It’s different this time,” but I, I know it’s not because once a piece of garbage ALWAYS a piece of garbage.
Mercedes begs me to go out and be her wingwoman. I’ll be a vagina block, that’s what I’ll be. Fucking Garbage. I tell her I’ll be the DD because I don’t want to jeopardize the wonderful opportunity I’ve been given to interview with this company. So we go out and she meets some other dude and is all slob knob over him. I’m standing there chatting away with Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam when I see BEAST/WHORE #1 walk in the bar. I was already aware that Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam knows her and had previously filled him in on why I hate her. So I tell him BEAST/WHORE #1 is here!! He says “WHERE?!!” and as he turns to look there she is touching my arm with her Louis Vuitton. Slut. My eyes were huge, Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam’s eyes were huge and she was just standing there like a dumb cunt towering over everyone with her beastly chins.
Beast/Whore #1 and Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam talk for a few about god knows what while I am furiously texting Gigi telling her to come help me take this bitch out. Gigi also has a bad history with Beast/Whore #1 so she is passionately hated by everyone who knows us and 99% of the campus and tri-state area, and Italy.
The next thing I know I hear Acts Gay But Says He’s Straight Friend Adam saying this to Beast/Whore #1, “This is my best friend Gizzy, she is like the most amazing person I have ever met.” Beast/Whore #1 sticks out her man hand and says, “Hi I’m Beast/Whore #1,” (You people know me well enough to know that this WILL NOT fly in Gizzy’s world. Whore.) So I shoot her the dirtiest look I can conjure up and leave her man hand hanging solo. Slut. THEN she says, “I know you from somewhere, where is it?” OOOOHHH NOOO BITCH, ITS ON! I scream at her, “You know exactly where you know me from you fat whore.” And throw my sprite on her fat head. Turn around and see none other than HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON standing there looking at me. I burst into tears and went running out of the bar. And no one followed.
Eventually I pulled myself together and met Mercedes and her flavor of the hour at another bar, after repeatedly texting her to “let me know when that fat cunt leaves.” The flavor of the hour realized he probably wasn’t going to get any so he left, then Mercedes eyes Garbage from across the way. Of course Garbage never approaches her, just like I said so I put the kibosh on hanging out with him and tell her the train is leaving because I need to go have an ugly girl cry by myself. So she says “hi” to Garbage while I stand at the door and scour him and his dirty friends with my eyes in disgust.
We get back to Mercedes apartment and it’s 3am, I tuck myself in happy that I am going to get 5 hours asleep when 20 minutes later Mercedes busts out of her room and says that Garbage and his friend are coming over to smoke at 4 am, just like I said. I grunt in utter disgust and roll over. 45 minutes later they show up and repeatedly open her door every 5 minutes screaming my name until 7:30 in the morning to ensure that I get NO SLEEP before my interview. See why I want them dead? What pisses me off is that Mercedes is a bitch whore and never told them to stop because I needed to sleep. She laughed. And that is why Mercedes is now and forever SHUNNED! I have enough token black friends anyway.
Hopefully I can ward off my hangover long enough to pull this post together. Yesterday my Dad and Step-Mom threw a wedding reception for themselves. Knowing the kind of friends my dad has, the people they work with, and my family I knew this party was going to be no funzo for me. So I helped out as much as I could stayed for 5 hours and then told my dad I started my period and needed to leave. Like any man would do in that situation he got freaked out and shooed me out the door. So away I went to my olllll alma mater.
I called up Gigi and Mercedes so we threw back some shots and away we went. I had secret hopes of seeing HOTTIE out but of course never saw him or any of his peoples. And like clockwork I got drunk and sent him a text at 2:30 in the morning asking if he was around. No response. Typs. I think I’ll let him go.
Anyway, we’re leaving our first bar when I run into someone I met my sophomore year of college. We’ll call him MP. Now MP and I met sophomore year at my apartment. I was out fratting it up and decided to have a little after partaaay with my friend Betty. So Betty and I call up our friend Ryan, Ryan says he’ll bring his friend MP over so it’s even. So we took a lot of shots, and by a lot I mean like finished a half gallon of vodka. Betty and Ryan sat down in the living room to watch Napoleon Dynamite (that’s how long ago this roots back) so I go back to my room to go to bed and MP follows me. Drunk as skunks we start to make out and crawl into bed. Nothing else happened though because I think we both passed out. So I wake up like 20 minutes later, come to my senses and get the eff out of there. I grabbed a blanket and my pillow and went to the living room to finish watching Napoleon with Betty and Ryan and pass out on the living room floor.
I wake up in the morning to Ryan and MP shuffling around to gather their things. I didn’t want it to be awkward so I just pretended I was still asleep until they left. Well first I open up the fridge and see that they stole ALL of my capri-suns. W.T.F. So gay. Then I head back to my room. I scream and Betty and my roommates all come running. “THAT MOTHER FUCKER WET MY BED!!!!!!!!” Huuuuge wet spot right in the center of my bed. I call up Ryan and tell him and he busts out laughing, tells MP what I said and MP lies about it obvi and says it was me. Then I get super pissed, “Um NO! I slept in the living room ass wipe!” This argument of who wet the bed went on for a good hour with more evidence of it being him than me. So we hang up and what do I do? I create a facebook group and invite all his friends, “MP wet my bed and lied about it.”
Well time passed and eventually the attention to the story fizzled out. About 2 years ago MP and I ran into each other in a bar, hashed it out, he admitted to wetting my bed so I said we could be friends. I figured anyone who wanted to be friends with me after I made a facebook group about them announcing to a campus of 40,000 people that they are a bed wetter deserves a second chance.
So last night I run into MP, we’re all “Oooohhhhh how have you been, what are you up to, yada yada yada.” I’m drunk enough to pull the ole, “Lemmeeee see if I still have yourrr numba!” (Exactly like that because I was hammered.) I didn’t so we exchanged numbers and as soon as I left he was texting me, take note of the time sequence:
1:23 am MP: What bar did you want to meet at?
G: Bar 4
1:25 am MP: Sounds good, lets meet there in a bit.
G: We’ll probably be there around 2
1:27 am MP: k wanna meet up later?
G: Ya sounds good, text me when you head to Bar 4.
1:29 am MP: Stop. You wanna talk now?
G: Lol talk about what? We’re at snakes drinking vodka tonics.
1:32 am MP: I guess I just wanna make out. Is that bad?
*At this point I was cackling my little black stilettos off telling every one in the bar the bed wetting story, so I rolled with it to see what was going to happen.*
G: Haha not bad.
1:34 am MP: Come back to Henry’s real quick.
G: Ok we’ll come back in a minute when we finish our drinks. (not!)
1:36 am MP: K I’m here.
1:41 am MP: Where you wanna meet?
G: We’re finishing our drinks then coming to Henry’s.
1:45 am MP: Sounds good
1:57 am MP: Where you at?
2:06 am MP: Yo wake up
G: Sorry finishing up now about to come there. (Not!)
2:07 am MP: K hurry!!!
2:10 am MP: Where you at?
2:15 am MP: Nlothin (Nothin)
2:15 am MP: Huh
2:21 am MP: Come on hun
*Text HOTTIE for a last chance at love, “Heyy are you around?”*
G: Sorry sorry just looked at my phone, we’re at Bar 4.
2:26 am MP: You wanna meet up?
2:26 am MP: Come to Henry’s silly
G: My friends want to stay here.
2:28 am MP: Come on just me and you
2:49 am G: I’m staying at my friends she wants to be here
2:51 am MP: Ok just wanted to say hi that’s all, no worries. (Uh huh)
G: Why didn’t you just come to Bar 4 then?
2:53 am MP: Haha your girl is here you need better excuses
G: I don’t think sooo they’re both with me
2:58 am MP: Where you at I will come to Bar 4.
G: Yeah come here (At this point I was already sitting in Mercedes car at the Mcdonalds drive-thru)
3:01 am MP: The bars are closed
3:02 am MP: Should I wait for you outside?
3:04 am MP: K to the right
3:23 am MP: Should I leave?
3:44 am MP: You in bed for the night?
11:51 am MP: You wanna get breakfast?
12:01 pm MP: come on, I wanna see you!
Is that someone desperate to get laid or is that someone desperate to get laid? Get home get on facebook, girlfriend. RE-SHUNNED! Asshole.
I need a for realz rant. I’ve mentioned my friend Mercedes before but never elaborated on the colossal bitch that she is. Why am I friends with her if she is the worst you ask? Because she comes stocked with fruit roll ups, that’s why. Whether it be at a bar, in a bathroom or at a funeral Mercedes is sure to have a purse full of gummy treats. I’m beginning to think a lifetime supply of fruit roll ups may not be worth the headache anymore, especially since they don’t even have the fun shapes cut into them anymore.
It all started when I met Mercedes about 3 years ago. I needed somewhere to live and her and her roommate needed a 3rd roommate to complete their lease. I was dating douchearoo at the time and he was living with her boyfriend at the time, douchearoo told me not to live with her because she was a huge spoiled bitch. Of course, I didn’t listen.
The first year I lived with her I came to the conclusion that she must be dyslexic and somehow thought that Gizzy read as Merry Maid. Also that she is a huge whore, she had sex with at least 10 different guys per semester (sorry if 20 guys in a 9 month period is not a lot to some people, it is to me though considering my total number is about ohh 5. I know I’m a prude. WAMP WAMP. But I also don’t have STDs.) She had sex with one guy with 9 toes on top of our kitchen counter, how do I know? Oh because I pulled her thong out of the garbage disposal, that’s how. Basically she is a lazy piece o shit but somehow it comes back to her and if there is an open container it will get spilled on her, within the last month I’ve witnessed 40 half eaten chicken wings, a gallon of lemonade, and a fifth of blueberry vodka dumped on her. It felt good I must admit. She also got this horny boy Pomeranian dog, Alfie, within the first 4 months that we lived together who single handedly pissed on every piece of fabric in our 2 apartments. Fuck I hate that little bastard. I once heard her on the phone with her mom crying saying I was trying to poison her dog with bad turkey because my drunk friend Kirk threw a package of meat out of my window and it landed on our balcony. I mean is me or should she not be letting her dog on the balcony to do it’s business. (lazy example #2, get where I’m going?) I make sure my business goes in the toilet and not all over her floor so I expect the same courtesy from her guests.
Jumping to present day, I got Mercedes a job with the Captain Mo Ho company. She got hired, blah blah blah. Moved to San Fran to live with her boyfriend, and moved back within the first 3 months because she found out he has no money.
Well I get an email a few months ago about how she has enrolled herself in some Captain Mo calender competition and fucking made it to the final 32. Now, I’m all about my friends getting opportunities and being successful but, the last thing Mercedes needs to inflate her ego is to be in some calender. She enrolls herself in all of these modeling agencies and has her dad pay for her to get bad headshots done. She recently filmed an HH Greg commercial and was in a commercial for Oprah. And she’s not modest about it at all… I mean I feel like I wouldn’t be texting everyone I know and posting it all over facebook if it were me, but she does it for the attention so a whore will be a whore.
She had recently been telling me about her latest hookup/boy J3 (I gave him this name because his name is Justin, she’s on match.com and he was the 3rd Justin she had been out within that 2 week period) and how he asked her if she would be Ok dating someone who couldn’t support the lifestyle she lives. A little background on Justin, he is a cute, self sufficient, 25 year old, biomedical engineer and what he wanted with someone who failed out of college, relies on daddy’s money, doesn’t have a job other than promoting alcohol (not that I can talk but at least I am actively looking), and whose brain capacity overloads after a long day at the mall is beyond me. It has always baffled mine and Lucky’s minds how we are both self-sufficient, educated, pretty, smart girls but can’t find guys who are worth 2 shits but girls like Mercedes who don’t appreciate them can. I guess he did figure out that her brain rattles when she shakes her head because he did dump her after a month saying, “If we were stuck in a room with nothing but each other I don’t know what we would talk about.” Of course she was so upset asking if she was boring, I’m nice and refrained from saying you’re not boring you’re just stupid and thought it would be better to just let her think she was boring. Anyway, obviously Mercedes told him yes she would still be with someone who couldn’t support her lifestyle but of course she told me that she lied to him and she wouldn’t be, because she doesn’t want to work, ever.
Even though I know that the reason why Mercedes doesn’t want to work is because she is a lazy piece of shit I decided to further investigate just to share with you all so we had this conversation:
G: How do you expect to not work and maintain the lifestyle that you live? (Which is driving around her daddy’s benz, living in a million dollar mansion, having her parents support her every move at 25, shop on her parents credit card, not pay a single bill, and have her dad sue or pay off anyone she does wrong.)
M: Well, these guys need to bring something to the table. When my dad dies we are going to get like $5 million, my mom will get half of that and me and my brother will split the other half so I’ll have like a million to maintain my lifestyle.
G: #1 your dad is in his early 50’s and not ill soooooo why are you acting like he is about to die? #2 most people retire when they are 67 with about $2 million to last them about 20 years with decreasing expenses (here you go people, this is what I went to college for. I know retirement. BOOM.) how do you expect $1 million to last you the rest of your life?
M: Well that’s what my husband will be there for, that $1 million is just a supplement to help out.
G: You could take that $1 million and buy you and your husband a nice house and then not work because you could live off of his income.
M: NO. The $1 million is for me to spend.
G: What would you do all day while your husband busts his ass to support your extravagant lifestyle?
M: I don’t know volunteer or something.
G: Why wouldn’t you just work then? It’s the same as volunteering, only you would get paid.
M: Because I don’t want to work. Mayyybe I would get a part-time job at the mall or something.
G: I’m going to be honest with you, the jobs that guys our age and even 5 years older than us are getting these days will never make enough to support the way you live.
M: That’s why I’m going to find a surgeon or a guy who has family money.
G: And how do you expect to do that? On match.com?
M: I’ll meet one eventually.
G: So you’ll marry a guy if he has tons of money even if you don’t love him?
M: I’d rather marry for love than money. But I need the money. But like I said, I am going to go back to Shit University so that I have the degree in Psychology because I can bring that to the table, at least I’ll have a degree.
G: Buuuut, you’re not bringing shit to the table by having a degree if you’re not doing anything with it. A guy is going to see right through your act if you’re 35 living at home with a degree, no job, and having daddy pay for everything when you are perfectly capable of being self sufficient.
Then she gave me a blank stare and some golfers walked up where she flirted her way into a $5 tip to which she let the middle aged man stuff in her cleavage. He asked if he could do the same to me and I told him to take his $5 and shove it up his ass.
That’s the other thing, during this golf outing I poured the drinks, was courteous and nice. But is that what middle aged men want? No. They want some 25 year old slut who is going to throw herself at them to make a buck. Now, we get paid $25 an hour and are supposed to decline tips, I decline, Mercedes the gold digger does not. Another fun fact about Mercedes, she has fake hair, fake eyebrows, fake eye color, and fake eye lashes so hearing these men tell her how beautiful she is while she throws herself at them gives me a cackle because I think about what she would look like without all her fake shit. I won’t lie, she is a very pretty girl but without all that hoopla she wouldn’t be and still doesn’t show a shred of modesty, me on the other hand. I have an au natural D cup but you don’t see me dancing around in a string bikini for dollars. Oh did I mention she used to do amateur night at a strip club for extra money to spend on clothes and her old best friend is a stripper who has had 5 abortions? Right. I forgot. That’s because it’s trashy as fuck. FIN! Gizzy out.
p.s. Is it illegal for me to have Bieber fever?!!!!
I went out last night for pint night. Standard operation. I drink vodka tonics. Standard operation. Drama ensued. Standard operation.
Yesterday morning I was galavanting around campus getting my last few items on the list set up for when I leave this hell hole, when I walk in a building and see HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON standing at the coke machine. I internally flip my shit, if I turn around and walk out he’ll know it’s because of him, if I walk up and say hi that could be weird since he hates my drunk guts, what do I do what do I do? Ok I’ll just rummage through my bag and pretend like I don’t see him.
I think I’m in the clear when I feel a tug on my arm and hear him say, “Hey Gizzy!” Ok, deep breaths, in and out, in and out.
Me: Ohhhh heyyyyy!! How have you been?
HOTTIE: Pretty good, you?
Me: Good good, whatcha been up to? (Other than not returning my texts, asshole.)
HOTTIE: Oh just school trying to pass this summer class, you know how it goes.
Me: Yeah me too, same old stuff.
*awkward silence for 10 seconds, but felt like 10 years*
HOTTIE: Well, it was good to see you.
Me: Yeah you too, bye!
So after I text my psychiatry group (Lucky, Mercedes, and Gigi) I get mixed feelings about the convo. Gigi always the optimist tells me I have to let this one go because it’s not going to happen and I am a loser and should go for guys my own age anyway. Lucky and Mercedes tell me it’s a good sign that he chased me down to say hello. I like the latter of those two conclusions, which brings me to later that night.
Gigi, acts gay but says he’s straight friend Adam, Chuck, Chuck’s friend LB, our new friend Bri and I are all taking shooters at Gigi’s place before going out. I’m moping about how I should just kill myself because I’ll never find anyone who is hot and doesn’t cheat on me while everyone else is having a gay old time. We walk to the bars and this convo happens:
Me: Gigi, HOTTIE’s lights are on, should I text him?
Gigi: YEAH! Tell him to come out.
Bri: Who are you talking about?
Me: This guy I like, but he hates me because I’m a drunk, he lives right there.
Bri: Are you talking about HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON?
Me: Um, yes.
Bri: You told me about him but never told me his name. He is best friends with my roommates boyfriend and over at my place all the time with them, I’ll hook a sista up.
Then, I tell her about the elevator incident and she thinks it’s not a big deal and tells me that he is very shy and in the 3 years that she has known him not once has she seen him with a girl or ever heard him speak of a girl. I take this as good news and buy Bri and I some shots.
As the night wears on we decide to scheme a plan to get HOTTIE and I together tonight. Bri is going to text him and beg him to come out with her and her new friends (insert Gizzy) then we’re all going to pre-drink at Bri’s place and HOTTIE and I will fall madly in love and get back on course making our enginerd clan.
I really like this plan and I hope it works. Since Bri has been so generous to me and my love life I felt it was my duty to wingwoman for her for the rest of the night. She found a guy she thought was hot so I was stuck talking to his douchey friend, Rob Thomas (yes, like from matchbox 20, I made him show me his ID.) Rob Thomas is one of those guys who thinks he’s all that and a bag of chicken, but he ain’t.
Anytime someone would touch him he would throw his hands up and say, “HEY! Hands off the merchandise.” He also would not stop bragging about how he went to Penn State and that he was 28. See, this is why I don’t date older guys. The younglings have nothing to brag about other than their sexual escapades and how much ever clear they drank the night before, they’re just a bundle of fun.
Being a good wingwoman and not wanting to vagina block Bri I give Rob Thomas my number and agree to hang out as a group again. Big mistake. Today I wake up to a text from him asking if Bri and I want to meet him and some friends out tonight, then he facebooks me, and as soon as I push accept he facebook chats me except he was pissed off because in my interests on facebook it says that I am interested in asians. He jumps up my ass asking if I am USING him because he is asian.
What exactly would I be using you for, I ask Rob Thomas. He says to fulfill some asian fantasy. WOW. I didn’t say I wanted to bang all of the 5 billion asians in the world. I said I am interested in asians. My other interests are putt-putt and boxed wine. He can’t take that seriously, can he? Well he does. So I proceed to tell Rob Thomas, the asian, why I am so fascinated by asians.
I mean, at least once a day I see an asian sprinting down the street with their arms full of shit and I just always wonder where do these asians have to be with their shit in such a hurry? And if I don’t see one sprinting down the street for no reason I’ll see one aimlessly wandering down the street. It’s a win, win.
I could go on for hours about why I love asians and think they are so hilarious, but I’ll spare the feelings of those who are offended and who now think I’m racist and stop. But, Rob Thomas does not agree that asians are funny and said he had to go. Then, I do the greatest thing ever and look at Rob Thomas’ facebook profile picture:
And he proves my point to a T. I hope I see him out tonight.