God’s Love at the Club on a Friday Night

19 Dec


Cue 3am, friday morning.
Why I’m waking up so god awful early, I don’t know.
Maybe its because I have my first in-person Ho interview today.
Sure, I ask my rep to go to be there for moral support, and to help say the things I know I will have trouble saying on my own.
The interview is at 11:30 in the morning.

Interviews make me uncomfortable.
Actually lately, LIFE has been making me uncomfortable.
Due to the fact that I keep vomiting from stress, I made a little detour to a psychologist who gave me some anti-anxiety meds.
I was pondering THC lollipops, but I like consistency, and this stuff is better than Xanax, that’s for sure. It’s like taking a little vacation from my brain. Nobody really knows I am popping pills for anxiety right now, but….who the fuck needs to know how much stress I am under, really?

The interview goes okay except for the fact that somewhere along the way the interviewer decides that she wants to shadow me and work with me for a day in Vegas.

Nobody from the outside has ever visited me in my secret world…let alone a reporter/interviewer. My rep speaks up about what a good idea this is.

All I can do is think….“No, I really, really don’t like this at all.”

I’ll have time to think about it, time to make up my mind though, so no big deal.
The interview with the interviewer lasts a couple hours…we ate at this old school steak eatery.
I make my way home, and my friend (who I have an admitted crush on) texts me that he’s going out to this club and I’m invited.
“You can bring the virgin too.” he says.
My friendcrush doesn’t understand how much he stresses me out.
He needs to give me warnings for things like this.
Like fucking clockwork, there I go to the bathroom. Bye bye lunch. Hello barf, pleased to meet you.

My virgin friend was already planning on going to this club with the particular festivities of the evening.
I asked my guy friend why he was going and he said he was on the guest list and a generous friend of his would be buying drinks (I guess he has a rich friend!) so he figures, why not go drink for free.

I’m super, super tired.
I decided to go to the mall to find something to wear (like the tard that I am.)
I was so tired and so worn out from the interview (keeping lies in order…not using my real name…intermittently telling the truth…)  that I curled up in a little ball while it was raining outside…too tired to go into the store…I cranked up the tunes on my ipod and let some tears roll.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I revert to evolutionary baby mode when I get tired and I cry because I need a nap.

So that’s exactly what I did- took a nap in the middle of the goddamn mall parking lot while the rain poured down, my favorite playlist blared out of my ipod. I took some of my jackets and fashioned them into a little pillow, and I got 20 minutes of shut eye before I went into the store to look around.

Shopping always eases my mind.
As does trying on clothes even when I don’t plan to buy anything.
I found a dress though. It caught my eye.

I don’t know what’s been up with me lately but I’ve been wearing dresses and all of these girly clothes, part of me wishing I lived in some sort of east coast type of city where dressing up actually happened. Or maybe in the south.  Georgia…Tennessee…..

Maybe it’s the holidays. I secretly wish I could spend most December nights looking like I just went to a holiday party.
That’s my new club thing. Going clubbing, look like you went to a Christmas party beforehand. Its the new cool thing, and I’m starting it.

I sleep some more at home on the couch, waiting for 9:00 to come around.
I’m really too tired to go anywhere.
I should just be going to bed early.
But my crush invited me out,
and this guy rarely invites me ANYWHERE.
Genevieve even called me with an invitation to go somewhere.
She said, “Well he’s going to have to try a little harder than that if he wants to go out with you.”

I explain, he’s not trying to go out with me, he’s trying to be my friend…
so I go. Because my Virgin friend is already going, I already said I’d go, and I’d kick myself if I didn’t go.

Before I get ready I even try “popping one off” hoping it will put me in a better mood.

It helped a little.

Off to the club!

This club has a bad seating arrangement. Its not the kind of club that has a cushy VIP area so you can hang with 12 of your closest friends. No, the best thing this club gets with its VIP area is a seating area so small that only 8 of your friends will squish into one area.

My virgin friend and I being the last to get there, didn’t fit in the little booth.
My guy friend did get up and get out of the booth to say hello.
But he was in the middle of the booth, surrounded by girls.
I partly wanted to mouth at him half jokingly and say, “You’re a DOUCHE!” ….NOT because he’s surrounded by women, but because a proper host would get up and make time for all his guests…a mini schmooze-fest if you will. However, his friend is buying everyone lots of liquor so I imagine by this time my guy friend is too inebriated to think about things like being a good host. If I was as drunk as he theoretically was, my ass would be parked in the middle of that booth too, not moving.

Besides….he looks so pimpin’ sittin there in the middle of the table surrounded by pretty ladies….
Cliché…but life’s little ho moments make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Awwwww.

When we finally do sit down, my virgin friend is sitting on the end of the table and I’m sitting one seat in – there’s a couple other peeps squished in before you get to the middle of the table.

My guy friend and I have a special “Non relationship” – in other words, he knows how I feel, I know he’s just trying to be my friend, (He admits my sexiness, we admit giving each other blue balls, so its cool!)
both of us dislike dating completely….

Yet…for SOME REASON, my virgin friend decides to bring up “Gods Love”, and all that jazz, in the middle of the club, on a Friday night.

Methinks my virgin friend is getting a little self-righteous partly due to her new found affections for this certain club owner. He hangs out at the club until after it closes, my friend will wait around and will let him treat her to dinner. He’s a very sweet gentleman to her.

My friend INSISTS she isn’t interested, but I know my virgin friend and I can tell you,
she’s full of shit and she is quickly falling in love with this man, just because he’s being nice to her.

So what does she do?
She goes ON AND ON about how nice her new gentleman friend is. How he kisses her on the cheek. How charming he is. How he’s so sweet, so caring.

Gag me.
I’m halfway staring at my guy friend out of the corner of my eye (he’s so dreamy…) while I tell my virgin friend about how difficult my day was.

That interviews are frustrating.
Having to go back to ho-ville is frustrating…
How tired I am….

She goes off on this tangent saying, “BAMBI, you deserve to be with someone who loves you, not somebody who ignores you! I love you and I think you’re a great friend, you deserve somebody who will pay attention to you and will treat you how you deserve to be treated! Come to my church on Sunday, and you can be with people who love you! You don’t have to keep up with this job, you don’t have to keep up with the writing, you can quit, you can find other ways to make money!”

Of COURSE…like a tool…..
Bambi + Alcohol + Extremely Tired + Stressful day + Crush sitting across from me + discussions abut God’s Love = instant recipe for Bambi getting all teary-eyed.

YEAH, WOULDN’T YOU KNOW, THEN MY GUY FRIEND DECIDES TO PAY ATTENTION.

Bambi the fucking stoic. His friends look on with their “oh shit” faces…almost WAITING for me to erupt into full blown sob-mode. We coulda been having a conversation about some recent death in my family, for all they knew. Fortunately I keep it back. Still, my guy friend finds his way next to me to ask what is wrong.

What do I do,
say, “Oh my religious friend is talking about Gods Endless Love. I’m moved by the Spirit.  Sorry y’all.”
or do I say, “Oh I’m torn about being a whore and being next to you and my feelings for you.”
or say, “Yeah I’m upset my virgin friend is getting all high and mighty and is picking on me, saying I deserve better, like I have FUCKING CONTROL OVER WHO I END UP HAVING FEELINGS FOR.”

That was what got to me.
My virgin friend was talking to me like…..if you have God on your side, you can wave a magic fucking wand and POOF, everyone will be in love, magically you will have a significant other, and we will all live happily ever after!

That’s not how real life goes.
I’d feel fake as ever if things DID go that way.
It fucking blows when she makes me feel like shit because aspects of MY LIFE don’t fit some…CHRISTIAN MODEL of perfection.

It was a verbal beatdown over matters of the heart, and I didn’t like it. She was taking her Christian mission TOO FAR.

At work, I control matters of the heart like a CHAMP.
Even outside of work, I’m not quick to get involved, because of work.

I’m smart as hell,
logical as hell,
I am one reasonable motherfucker…
Yet when it comes to an intelligent man who’s passionate about his work, I treat them all like drops of water in the fucking Sahara! Partly because they remind me so much of myself, dammit. There aren’t a lot of people who are “like me” out there.

Still…why did my virgin friend have to become Captain Save-A-Ho on my Friday night, thus ruining it?

It made me wonder if I would have had a better time in her absence.
Had she not been there, I might have made friends with some new girls.

Most ladies would get jealous that their guy friend has friends who are all women.
Me? I’m pleased as punch, because my friends are mostly men!
I’m super-duper close to practically gay anyway (not because I love to eat pussy [I’ve never done it], but because I think like a dude.), so seeing a bunch of pretty women sitting at a dinner table is my dream come true!
My guy friend is doing me a favor surrounding me with beautiful women, because being surrounded by them reminds me of work and it feels like home! Especially when they tell me I’m pretty. I love that.

Anyway….that was my Friday night.
I hope nobody talks about Gods Endless Love or pulls this Captain Save-a-Ho bullshit for a while.
I decided after that night that I’m turning fucking Atheist.

If anything magical and wonderful happens in my life, I want it to be because I worked hard for it.

God hasn’t put food on my table lately, and I’m quite convinced if there was a God, I wouldn’t have to go back to being a whore for a living.

Instead, I’m applying for food stamps.
Bet you didn’t think a whore could apply for food stamps, did ya?
Well I did.

I won’t deny it – I love fucking people for money.
But given my “journey” with Jesus….I think if he was all about me getting my life in order, he’d help me choose a profession I could more proudly share with my friends and family.
So fuck you, fantasy Jesus. I’m hanging with the Atheists from now on.

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One Response to “God’s Love at the Club on a Friday Night”

  1. Ian Ironwood December 22, 2010 at 5:01 pm #

    You know, there’s more options than that.

    Christianity isn’t the only game in town, and despite your Virgin friend’s inappropriate testimony, not all religions preach the Give-Your-Life-To-God-And-All-Your-Dreams-Cum-True gospel. Consider Wicca: sure, lots of flakes in it, but the focus of the religion is Handling Your Business, not Make God Happy. Once you make a connection with a feminine form of the divinity, you’d be surprised at how much your perspective changes.

    But Wicca doesn’t advocate the instant gratification of divine acceptance through abasing yourself before the Divinity; instead it encourages you to develop a friendly relationship with the rest of the universe in an effort to develop yourself more fufillingly.

    Also, sex is a sacrament, not a sin. And half of God is a woman. That’s bonus points, as far as I’m concerned.

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