Ok, so this story is a little foggy because I was totally wasted for like, um, all of it, but that’s what makes it fun. And spicy.
I got dinner last night with another sorority sister (who I only hate a medium amount) in the meatpacking district. She works in PR too so we can complain about the same things together, so that’s fine. She’s fine. She did wear a weird dress, which was a fucking eyesore, but I’m not a bitch so I didn’t even say anything about it. You’re welcome Becca.
For some reason, we ended up going to Brass Monkey after dinner (I know, right? Ew!), which obviously sucked because it was Brass Monkey. But at least we could cut the line because we’re not ugly. Whatever.
I made out with this hot guy for a bit but then I got bored, so we left at like 11 pm and went to the STK rooftop. Of course, there was no one hot there because my life sucks, so I was really fucking annoyed and wanted to light the place on fire with the stolen cigarette I was smoking.
I'm like fucking amazing at making the best out of shitty situation so I decided it was time to go this random finance bro's apartment that I had been fucking. Ugh, but he wasn’t answering my texts because he apparently has a death wish (or a job that he has to be up for at 6 am, same thing). So fucking rude, right?
I decided to go over to his apartment anyway. Becca was jealous of me so told me not to, but obviously I ignored her. Sorority sisters literally act like their only purpose in this world is to ruin your sex life. Like no, I don’t care that your twin’s grandlittle twice removed hooked up with him too, but thank you for the info. I told her I’d text her from his bed and called an Uber. Bye Becca. Bye Becca’s heinous dress.
Ugh, so when finance bros sleep, they take it very seriously, because I guess work is hard or something. 16 text messages, and 21 phone calls later, I ended up outside of his West Village co-op staring at the door buzzer. I buzzed a few times. I buzzed seven million times. I then held the buzzer down for two minutes straight. Hmmm. What the actual fuck? Who sleeps through me being downstairs? What’s more important than me?
I decided to just press every single buzzer button until someone else in the building was pissed enough to let me in, because I was so over wasting my time. Then I just took my Louboutins off and banged them against his door for five minutes until he called 911. Just kidding! He let me in because who wouldn’t let me in? Yay. Getting what I want!
I think I scared him. Which I love.
I’m always watching you, random finance bro. You’re welcome.