I’m convinced that God doesn’t want me to lead a normal life. On Saturday night I somehow managed to convince myself that I was going to have a quiet weekend. I already popped in Tron (my guilty pleasure even though the father is clearly a stoner) and I was comfy/exhausted as fuck from the gym. So, in my head, I managed to congratulate myself, it’s been nearly a month since I’ve done anything crazy even my guy friends asked if I died or just fell off the radar. Glorious. I was ready to retire my hat and become a boring person until I heard some loud and obnoxious techno music coming from next door. I just wanted to die like why can’t I enjoy a quiet evening to myself? Why can’t I read my fucking book? So, I went over there, I put on a sweatshirt to cover my doo-rag because I wanted people to take me seriously, nothing says ‘this bitch is crazy’ like a doo rag and a pink “Dora Explorer” robe. I was prepared, I banged on the door with my hairbrush (ghetto, I know) and since my eyebrows are perfectly arched, it makes me look like megabitch is about to kill yo ass. It was perfection. Then the door opened and I saw all my friends partying. The moment the door opened, a shot glass was handed to me trying to probe me into partying. THOU HAS CHANGED HER WAYS, that’s what I said or something of the sort and then I looked at the yummiest and I shrugged, took my hair out of my doo and began to party.
Now, this is where normal stories ends, I partied, got drunk and walked my happy ass back to my room. NOPE! I honestly think there’s something wrong with me but suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a dance off. I’m not kidding you, a fucking dance off like some JT and Brit Spears shit. Well, it started off as a challenge like my girl and I could tell, these hookers were challenging us. These girls, I kid you not, jumped on the bed and started dancing on top of the windows, I felt like I was at the Red Light District. The sad part was, it wasn’t even hot because one couldn’t dance, trying to look hot, swinging her hair back and forth. I wanted to die for her. That’s when I got a nudge from my girl, she looked at me, I looked at them and she says “They’re egging us on, we got to do something”. I swear on anything that’s Holy (except God because I don’t want to get smite) that this was happening and this was the exchange between my friend and I. We had to do something because at that current moment, we were leaning against the walls sipping on our drinks, we looked like losers and these badly dancing hookers were showing us up.
Shit was about to go down.
My girl looked at me, I looked at her and off to the bed we went. Except, it was sexy because I think in another life we were strippers or we aspired to be strippers. One of the two, suddenly, everybody was around the bed, cheering us on, I literally felt like we were in Step Up except the stripper skank version. It was glorious and we had to make sure everybody knew that WE PUNISHED THAT “ASS ASS” SONG and that’s when the clothes began to come off... I whipped off my shirt, spun it around, got against the wall, starting doing that wall dance thing that every pop star does. It was wild, the other girls stood there in awe and pure jealously like ‘why didn’t we think to take our shirts off’. Um because we’re fucking geniuses duh. Man, I wanted to applaud ourselves, I almost did the arm fly thing that all dancers do after a dance off when they clearly won the thing. It was amazing, we hopped off the bed and was handed shots like the Queen bitches we are.
And that my friends, is a regular Saturday night for me.