Friday, March 11, 2005

Three Sheets to the wind and draped in a fourth.

Cornelius was in a fun mood. Maybe it was the 14 degree weather, my impending date with a a new guy or the two 40 dolla bottles of wine I sucked on like a teat. So I decided to meet "P" at 1223, in the VIP lounge (of course) for our first "date".

I walked in, put my coat down and MADE JESUS CRY.

Shots of jaegermiester, greygoose tonics, some weird thing I injected into my ass cheek (j/k). I was ooops upside everyone's head. I think I was projecting my insecurities stemming from not knowing anyone besides "P" and channeling them into hardcore libation liberation. So an hour passes, I am officially trashed hence my SASS model look (eyes glazed over and lips pouted expertly). "P" suggest we head over to (G)A(Y)pex for la noche de collegio or college night. Keep in mind this is my first time meeting "P", we walked along the streets looking like something HRC would put on flyers. We got to Apex I am mentally handicap at this time, and go in.

I walked in, put my coat down and MADE JESUS CRY (again).

Now "P" is what one would call "A catch", smart, really hot, nice dresser and 18 (hells yeah). Apparently everyone else thought so too. Bitches to the left, suckahs to the right. I deflected them with a one two SLICE. We danced, talked, I espoused the benefits of vegetarianism and offered some drag queen baking tips. The time flew by and of course (and sadly)I lost track of "P".

Coming out of the bathroom, I saw a good friend from a few summer ago who had moved to Paris. He invited me back to his hotel, not for sex but to steal stuff from the bathroom, he was staying at the Ritz. I was game, I mean it sounded like fun and I hadn't fucked with a concierge in so long. me, him and his BF took a cab back to the Ritz and I promptly took off all my clotheses. I don't know what it is but as god as my witness, I take off my clothes all the time, as much as a whore to fashion as I pretend to be, I would rather be naked. And it's not a sexual thing, it's just a freedom thing (I think).

So I was getting bored as fuck listening to these bitches stories about how they were gonna get married in Denmark of whatever tulip schlepping land they were talking about. I decided to go downstairs and pick up the pizza that we had ordered. Apparently the deliver guy could not come to to the room because of "Security" or some shit. Now this being a 5 star hotel and it being like 2am I was like "Shieeet, I'll just walk down with this duvet comforter wrapped around me. BAD IDEA. As soon as I payed the delivery guy from Manny and Olga's, I forgot what room my friends were in. Well this fucking sucked. Here I was, wrapped in a duvet in the lobby of the Ritz. Actually there was something cool about it, Egyptian cotton caressing my ass cheeks, travertine marble beneath me and most importantly a concierge wondering what the fuck is going on. My keys, wallet, phone, clothes, everything was back in there room. I soon found out that it's the Ritz's policy to not disclose who is staying in what room, I guess that's smart, gotta protect Beyonce and her traffic cone from the papparazzi.

The concierge, Shanae, (love ya girl) told me that she would be willing to walk me through every floor in an effort to find my room. Ok so here I am with a mother fucking pizza, wrapped in a duvet being led around by a sassy black lady. With my manly bits jangling in the wind, I followed Shanae until we found my room and long story short peaced out to my friends, got my shit and bounced.

I felt like a FUCKING STAR BABY.

I am my own page six. I can only guess that Shanae and her co-workers didn't throw me out because I owned my shit, I mean even though I was three sheets to the wind and draped in a fourth, I looked like this happened all the time. I didn't freak out. I was Paris Hilton and this was my Waldorf-Astoria. I didn't get to steal anything, and I am pretty sure I am not gonna be invited to my friends wedding in Dutchlandia or whatever it's called but care factor: zero. This night could have turned out ten times worse, I could have been arrested or even kicked out. But as Beyonce and friends sang on that extended dance remix that was playing earlier in the night: I'm a survivor...sometimes wrapped in a duvet...In the lobby of the Ritz.

Cheers Bitches

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