How Broke Bitches Spend Saturday Night

So basically I made my roommate come with me to Trader Joe’s to kill the club and buy gummy bears, chocolate-chip-cookie ice cream sandwiches, a LOG of mozzarella cheese, tomatoes (for good measure), and avocados galore. And plantain chips, because she’s from Miami.

No one was in Trader Joe’s because they all actually had shit to do on a Saturday night.

Waiting for the G Train to take us back home, I couldn’t wait any longer. It’d been 2 hours since I ate that Oreo cookie smothered in crunchy peanut butter, and 5 HOURS since I had brunch. Mama was wasting away. So, while we were down in that dank hole of a subway station, I opened the bag of gummy bears and shoved my face inside.

SNIIIIIIFFFFFFFF. “The smell is IN-TOX-ICATING.”

“Aaaaaaaand this is the moment we officially become undateable.”

*Chortle chortle chortle snort giggle.*

“Yeaaaa. That’s true.” Well, I don’t want to be with a man who doesn’t want to rip off my clothes at the sight of me shoveling gummy bears into the vacuum on my face anyway.

The train comes.

We’re sitting across from a man in a yellow raincoat à la Curious George… and he has braided pigtails.

I am ROARING in silent laughter. For the past week I’ve been asking myself “What am I doing with my life that’s so great?” but at that moment I’m just thinking, “Well, at least I’m doing better than fucking Squanto over here.”

We go home and eat a dinner of avocado and tomato slices drenched in olive oil, salt and pepper. Then we reach for the ice cream sammies. SLAM ‘em. Then my roommate makes a concoction of green tea plus kava tea steeped in the same cup, and simultaneously created the new club drug. Any minute now she’ll be able to see sounds.

redbull_monster

 

P.S. Earlier today I’d met up with someone I hadn’t seen since college, and—legit—he told me he reads this blog (or my Facebook statuses), “I don’t want to say for amusement, but…yea, as a respite from dreary life.”

Supplying you guys with laughter bled from my sorrow since 1989.

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