The Night of One Thousand Dollars. in Musings

One of my best friends is getting married, Gerry.

She’s on this weird, obsessive diet and exercise regimen that has left all of us in the dust. I mean I exercise and eat well, with the occasional fried chicken or full of gluten and starch meal, along with a bottle or two of wine, but she’s cut all of those things off, she needs to fit into this insanely beautiful Lanvin wedding gown. I get it.

She texted me at work and I told her to come in and get her hair done.
Great.
She comes in, we make her into J-Lo from Selena Gomez. She’s chugging rose and I’m none the wiser that she had not eaten that whole entire day.

She’s drunk and I’m chugging prosecco doing her hair and getting high. Our other friend Wallace comes by the salon and we just keep drinking and decide that we should go to Bagatelle for dinner. I mean our instagram posts were always “the 3 vibrant city women” with no doubt… she is wearing some ripped up j-brand jeans with a silver Tom Ford heel. I’m wearing this amazing black givenchy duster and my barely worn in Christian Louboutin spike and glitter flats from 2014. Wallace is the not as name brand as we are but he’s wore this amazing sheer top with a grandpa collar, ripped up black jeans with a really cute chelsea boot. None the less the brands don’t matter, it’s the idea that we looked incredibly The Craft meets Cruel intentions.

I didn’t know Gerry was that wasted. So I start shoveling cocaine up my nose and passing it around.

We get to Bagatelle in a taxi. I walk in and they follow along. We see one of my arch-nemesis and I play nice with him. I hit it off with his best friend and I leave Wallace and Gerry with Tyler.

I get a text message from Wallace saying we need to go home and send Gerry home. So I run off and see Gerry being a disaster. There is nothing worse than seeing a beautiful woman in designer shoes flinging her mini-celine bag all over being a hot mess. So I arranged for an uber to pick her up and take her home.

She becomes upset. Begs me to hang out with her because she’s getting married and she loves being with me and in my company. I cancel the uber. “FINE Gerry! But have some seltzer water and shape up!”

Wallace is really upset because she begins to ruin our fun time.

We have a table, we have a 450$ bottle, we have hors d’oeuvre. We literally have at least an $800 tab running plus the $300 of cocaine in my clutch…

Gerry begins to start swaying and tripping over her heels.
She begins to be uncomfortable and weird with our friends and anyone that I had invited to sit with us.
Wallace leaves.
He leaves with my clutch in his bag.
I’m running out of the lounge, pay the tab and jump in a cab with Gerry.

She starts throwing up in the car.

She splashes her throw up on my face.

I stop the car, pay the man $100 in cash for the $15 of mileage and the rest is tip and his car wash.

I drag Gerry out of the car and at this point I realize I don’t have my clutch or my cocaine with me.

Gerry throws up directly onto my fucking shoes. I go haywire.

I literally pushed her drunken ass up against a wall, because she couldn’t stand up for herself.

“You should’ve fucking gone home!”
She starts crying and telling me she’s sorry and rips out her credit card. “Andy! I’m sorry! I’ll pay for your shoes or your shoe cleaning”

I don’t fucking care about my shoes or shoe cleaning, your bile is imbedded into the expensive leather and the sparkles and studs are forever tainted with your vomit.

“They’re not that expensive Andy!” she slurred. “OKAY SO LET ME THROW UP VEAL AND LOBSTER TAIL ON YOUR FUCKING TOM FORD HEELS AND SEE HOW YOU FEEL!”

She goes of on a drunken rant about how I’m suppose to be the cool one. How I’m being so weird and strict about her fun time. How she’s taken care of me when I was wasted..
and I retorted… I’m never this wasted…especially with my friends… especially when I’ve just spent $1300 on a night that I could have just spent drinking wine at home for $20.

I threw her in a cab and I climbed in.

She lives in a condo in brooklyn. I live in soho.

I dropped her off first and I had her best friend come to pick her up.

I walked out of the cab and dragged her out and she starts throwing up all over me. Her best friend Kayla, was like “OMG GERRY!!!!!!!!!”

Screaming bloody murder. Not because she was throwing up but because she was so drunk she was just throwing up on me intentionally.

I’m done.

I hate that girl.

I can only hang out with her when she’s sober.

Not only did she ruin my Louboutins… I smelled like fucking putrid vomit. I left my phone in her purse.

It’s a fucking disaster.