So B---‘s plan for saving his coke doesn’t really work out because ten minutes after his nose starts bleeding he’s passing the dime bag around and C--- and his two friends are taking turns taking bumps off of keys. B--- makes more drinks and I can feel my heart racing faster and my mind working harder and the music’s switched to that new Britney Spears song that I don’t really like but C--- says it’s probably the best song of the year and I tell him he’s absolutely right and he laughs a little bit and starts tapping his foot and his leg brushes against mine and I can’t help but wonder what kind of taste someone has to have to think that this is the best song of the year but instead of saying anything I just keep nodding when he talks about how catchy the beat is and how Britney is making a comeback and that she was really just a piece of meat for the paparazzi and that’s what’s driven her to abandon her children and flash her clit and it’s honestly the fucking dumbest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say but he looks so goddamned hot saying it so I say something along the lines of “she’s sort of like Zelda Fitzgerald” and everyone stops and looks at me like I have a goddamned third arm coming out of my head and B--- just goes limp and shakes his head so I try to justify it and say “you know, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s wife, she went crazy.” And then C--- says something about how the last thing he read was an Us Weekly from a month ago and people say shit like “I hear that, girl.”
And so I don’t say anything else and I just drink my vodka instead and I’m kicking myself mentally for thinking that talking about books would impress C--- and I’m also kicking myself for wanting to impress C--- but the fact is that I do even though there’s not a goddamned thing that I’ve got in common with him aside from the fact that we both know that he’s gorgeous and that I want to sleep with him. Then his friend whose name I think is K--- but might be X--- starts talking about this guy he met on Manhunt last weekend and about a guy he met on Craigslist the weekend before that and how both of them had come over with some meth (which I’ve still never seen) and that they were pre-lubed, and I don’t really know for sure what “pre-lubed” means but I can make some pretty accurate assumptions and then someone but I can’t decipher who says “do you think Zelda Fitzgerald was pre-lubed?” and everyone laughs and someone says something like “if that bitch and I have anything in common she was” and then Rihanna’s “Umbrella” comes on and everyone agrees that this is probably the best song of the year and it goes on through the first chorus and everyone says “ella ella ella” like Rihanna does in the song until I finally say “she died.” People look at me like I’m crazy and C--- says that I’m thinking of Kanye’s mom and I tell him that no, no, no I’m talking about Zelda Fitzgerald and he says “oh” and then gives me the dime bag and I shrug and dig my key into it and take another bump and B--- orders everyone to finish our drinks by calling us “bitches” but X--- or K--- insists that we listen to Umbrella one more time so we do and C--- brushes against my leg again.
