last night i had the privilege of attending the democratic party’s inaugural ball. my date? my friend monika. she’d asked me earlier in the week if i’d be interested in going with her and i agreed, so long as she put out. well, she didn’t exactly follow through with that last part, but she did have very nice cleavage. so i guess we’re good.
when we arrived at the downtown hilton, we pulled up to the valet, where we quickly learned that the valet lot was full. damn these democrats. what? they can’t self park? what are they now, republicans? so anyway, we were then directed to the parking garage across the street. no matter that we were both wearing beautiful torture devices in the form of high heeled shoes. hey, we can do anything. so we pull up to the parking attendant only to discover that neither of us had cash. i had a credit card and a tube of lip gloss and already chewed chewing gum wadded in an old receipt. i turned to monika and said, “quick–flash him your boobs.” she leaned her head out the window, batted her eyelashes his way and said, “um, we got nothing. will you take an iou?” he looked at the both of us and said, “sure, catch me on the way out.” score! and then he added, “park on level three. there’s a sky bridge to the hotel. you won’t have far to walk.” double score!!
so we entered the hotel and made our way through the crowd in search of the bar. hey, we’re not idiots. that’s when we noticed it was a cash bar. what? we gotta pay to drink at this party? i noticed then that my feet were already killing me. god damn bunyons. how can you be as cute and adorable as me and have hideous horns sticking out the sides of your feet. does the madness ever end? i looked around the room (there was at least a thousand people at this party) and wondered if anyone would notice if i took off my shoes. i looked down at my aching hooves. man, these shoes are beautiful. i repositioned my feet in the exquisite torture devices (that i would bet my life were invented by a man) and was able to find some temporary relief. but i needed wine. a few glasses of wine would surely make me forget about the pain i was currently enduring.
monika, in the meantime, had found an atm, scored some cash, and was currently in line for wine. the night was getting better. we made our way into the ballroom and found our table. we sat, we talked, we ate, we laughed, we drank. it was an exciting night. a while later a man approached me and said, “excuse me, i hate to bother you. but are you britany?” i cocked my head to the side and said, “britany who?”
side note: why i bothered asking which britany he was referring to is unclear. i’m not britany. any britany. so why i asked britany who? is just another example of my weirdness.
he said, “britany spears, of course. are you britany spears?”
just then, wine shot out of monika’s nose.
i turned to her and said, “what? i could be britany spears.”
she had to cover her mouth with her napkin to keep from spewing her half chewed chicken.
i turned back to the adorable man and said, “nope. sorry. not britany.”
he acted disappointed, apologized, and then walked away.
i so should have said i was britany spears. my whole life might be different today had i done that. oh well, live and learn.
around 10, i felt myself turning into a pumpkin. by now, my feet were screaming at me. they were swollen and had, somehow on their own, wriggled themselves out of the shoes. i decided i didn’t care anymore about walking around in my bare feet. i kept asking myself, “what would britany do?” britany would so walk around bare foot.
we made our way back to the sky bridge only to find the glass door connecting the hotel to the parking garage was locked. there was a key pad and i wondered how long before i could crack the code. i figured longer than i was willing to wait–we needed a better plan. monika spotted a phone on the wall so she called downstairs to the front desk. there were a lot of uh-huhs and i sees. she hung up the phone and i said, “well?” she fumed, “the hilton is so getting a letter from me.” what did that mean? well, apparently the girl at the front desk informed monika that there was no way we were going to be able to access the sky bridge. we were going to have to exit the hotel and walk around the block and up the ramp of the parking garage to the third floor.
OH NO WE WERE NOT!
i picked up the phone then and the same front desk girl answered. “um, yeah. my friend just called down there and you told her we can’t use the sky bridge?”
“yes ma’am. that’s correct.”
“why don’t you just give me the code and it will be our little secret. in fact, you’ll never see or hear from us again.”
“ma’am i can’t do that. i don’t even know the code.”
“so let me get this straight. we pull up to your hotel to the valet and it’s full. so then we’re redirected to the parking garage across the street…”
“ma’am, we didn’t advise you to park over there.”
“oh yes you certainly did. the valet guy was very clear.”
“well, he shouldn’t have done that.”
“look, all i need to the code to the door. our car is like 50 feet from here. just right across that sky bridge.” i was now pointing to the car.
“ma’am, i’m sorry, but you’ll have to walk around. the hotel has nothing to do with the parking garage.”
“your hotel has nothing to do with the parking garage except that there’s a sky bridge connecting the two buildings together? even the carpet in the sky bridge matches the carpet in your hotel.”
“i’m sorry ma’am. i can’t open the door.”
“do you agree that that’s stupid?” now a small crowd has gathered. other people were wanting answers. all we wanted was to get across the fucking sky bridge. the one that the hotel had nothing to do with.
“ma’am, i’m…”
“DO YOU AGREE WITH ME THAT THAT’S STUPID!!!????”
(monika doubles over laughing)
“yes, ma’am, that’s stupid.”
“thank you.” (hangs up phone)
i grab monika by the arm and say, “looks like we’re walking sister.”
she laughs again and says, “that was the funniest fucking thing i’ve ever witnessed. it was like you were interegating her…just say it! JUST SAY YOU LIKE MEAT!!!!”
at that point, i just wanted the girl to agree with me. i considered the whole thing a success–even though we’d essentially lost the battle.
we laughed all the way up that fucking parking garage.
oh, and you should have seen the bottoms of my feet. bleck.
still though, great night. yay america!








{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
BBBWWWWWWAAAAAAA!!!!!!
funniest post EVER!
stop, stop! don’t say anything else! *wipes tears from face*
the people here at my office are looking at me like i’m crazy!!!
that poor girl. you know she quit her job after she got off the phone with you.
funny!
Bea,
I was just thinking the same thing! You know that girl hung up the phone, walked up to her manager and said, “You don’t pay me enough to put up with assholes!”
Great story!
I’m still back at “I said I’d go if she put out.”
Now that’s hot!
Shauna,
I think you look a lot like Britany Spears. Mostly though when she had that crazy look in her eyes. You all are like twins.
Man, oh man! I see nothing’s changed. You can dress my sister up but you can’t take her anywhere without her batting her eyelashes, flashing her cleavage and then shooting some form of alcohol out her nostrils! Glad you gals had a good time!
btw, Britany looked pretty scary bald…don’t shave your head.
typical democrat, going to their own party and expecting someone else to pay for drinks!!
and a republican would have looked at who was locking you out (the parking garage) and called them for the code to the lock.
cleavage pictures would be nice!
If you just would have said you WERE Britney Spears, they would have given you the code!! If you had less Pinot Grigio, you might have thought of that!!
dammit cttexan! why didn’t i think of that?
i blame the wine. yep, the wine is the reason i failed to get the code.
you never cease to make me bust a gut. but what about the parking attendant guy? did he score on yawls’ way out?
good question woody.
um, the parking attendant was GONE when we left the party, so basically we parked for free.
parking attendant, if you’re watching, i’m happy to pay the six bucks i owe you.
Pay him the 6 bucks?! Are you crazy? I flashed my cleavage at him. That’s worth WAY more than 6 bucks.
I wanna hang out with you and Monkia. Sounds like great times.