throwin’ so much cray

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99 problems and Jay Z is one…

Author: Drunk anonymous girl

bitches be cray…
This one night… Met a guy (as you do) I was interested but mainly in the free flowing booze that he kept handing my way. Guy must have asked for my number because I wake up with a dirty hangover and a voicemail from ..…let’s just call him “mr grey”
I think he was cute? He was cute right? Anyway he wants to see me again and is only in town for a few days. He invites me out for a drink in his hotel lobby – creepy? Or cool?
Leaning more towards cool I go. I get there and he orders me a $300 BOTTLE of champagne (tasted like the $20 shit to me) all I could think of was that $300 is pretty much all I have in my bank account. Luckily he pays and then says we must leave the hotel immediately to go to his bands after party at IVY. Ahhhh! That’s right he is in a band. I go to ask what his band is called but my champagne head is too excited about being out on a school night with a cute boy who just bought me a $300 bottle of champagne! Off to Ivy we go. Secret passwords and we enter the private party, free pouring bottles of grey goose – yes please! Of course I now have to be as cool as my new boyfriend who plays in a band so OF COURSE I let him know I always drink my grey goose on the rocks and so I start drinking 1 ,2 ,3, 4… blurr 5, 6… Is that Jay Z? So much champagne so many grey geese I can’t be sure! I ask my new boyfriend “doesn’t that look like Jay Z?” To which he replies “YEAH I’m in his band!”
That’s the last thing I remember. Well that and flashes of being in a taxi together and flashes of being in my house. The next morning I wake to a beautiful man in my bed and my messy head fully clothed. He wakes up and kindly says “nothing happened you were very drunk, you shouldn’t drink that much” then asks if he can pay for a cab in US dollars. I hang my head in shame hand him a fifty and call him a cab. I see him to the door and spend the day regretting being the tool drunk girl who probably got thrown out of Jay Zs party. 99 problems and my inner cray is one.

50 Shades of Cray

Apparently, every girl has an inner crazy. I never knew this. I always thought it was something you opted into. A box you ticked. Like religion, or politics, or sex on the first date. That was until Thursday. Until alcohol. Until tequila partnered with my phone and forgot to inform my reputation they were about to push it off a very steep cliff. Until 8 messages to a boy I don’t remember sending. Until here I am drowning in a sea of blue texts whilst I deep dive for my dignity. Until …. crazy.

Was it that bad? Let me entertain your inner crazy for a minnie. Just relax. Now have 3 bottles of wine and some espresso martinis at your fave bar. Request Alicia Keys’ ‘This Girl is on Fire’ to a guy that’s a part time DJ, part time accountant. Dance sort of sexily with your girlfriends like you don’t even care who’s watching because you are just sohhh fun. Make sure the guy you’re interested in is watching. Laugh a lot and loudly with your friends because… carefree and cocktails. Maybe talk to the bartender like you’re interested. You’re not. Follow it up with No Scrubs by TLC and some more tequila because ‘you don’t want no scrubs’ and definitely have R.E.S.P.E.C.T for yourself.

Nek morning. A parade of text messages. Lots of sick feelings. Your self esteem break dance battled it’s way into a whole new iMessage realm…. solo. Text. Where did you go. Text. You need to grow up. Text. I didn’t really mean that. Text. Spelling mistake spelling mistake. Text. How good is Blue cheese?. Text. Cool whotevs. Text.Miss you. Text. That’s probalby weird #soznotsoz. Text Text Text. Crazy.

I suffered a deep sense of shame, which also felt a lot like a hangover. Sooo I did what any girl would do and asked all my gal pals to give me their cray bitch stories. Instant self-esteem booster.

You’re welcome.


Want to make me feel better about myself? Share your cray bitch story with me.

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