the fire escape diaries, part II: cocaine at 7 am

So the next day (Monday morning), I’m having my recurring Monday morning internal debate on whether I want to commit suicide or show up at my job, except this time, I realize that my $600 Chloé wallet is also missing.

Fucking phenomenal. Guess who has it.

And yes, yes, yes, I am aware that this is entirely my fault for leaving my wallet in this man’s clutches, but what is not my fault is the situation that followed.

So he acknowledges he has my wallet, and then when I ask when I can get it (multiple times), nada. Until a fun little pattern started. So, later that week, on Friday morning, I receive a 6:44 am text message that says: “hi.”

According to his instagram story, he was out until this hour. Thanks cocaine, I guess. And two mornings later, the same thing: “Hi.” At 7:17 am.

Anyway, this goes on for a MONTH. Like, it wouldn’t be a Saturday morning without a text and facebook message that said “hi” from my coked out photographer friend. Just “hi” – nothing else! And whenever I respond to this little memorial of his latest coke binge, nothing. Until the next early morning “Hi.”

Look, I like to party. That’s not a secret. I stay out late fairly often. I’ve been a 00 for the past ten years, so I’m not personally interested in getting too deep into stimulants, but like, it’s also totally FINE to have a coke problem. This is New York City, and everyone has a coke problem. No judgment! But please just leave me out of it. I’m just a girl who wants her Chloé wallet back, and I am not trying to be some drug addict’s 7 am coke binge penpal. Like, I’m the one who will always be filling the crazy role in the relationship. Not the other way around.

And if I’m the one judging your responsibility level and maturity (and you’re 31), you really really need to do some self-reflection. Like, I’ve gone to Tijuana on a whim. I personally think it’s normal to have a glass of wine with breakfast. I send my ex boyfriends venmo requests for “therapy” because I think that it’s funny.  If I’m riding the mature adult high horse, then you have to be a pretty huge disaster.

So basically, my plan as of now is to throw this man an intervention from “concerned loved ones” (aka me and my friends!) on my way to work one morning, because that is apparently when he arrives home from a casual weeknight out. I really hope Emily Ratijkwoski is there. She can document the intervention on social media <3


*Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.