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Girls gone wild, Guatemalan roast edition

31 Dec

I have joined a sorority.

At least, I think I have.

At any moment, a pillow fight in peekaboo nighties may break out.

Keep in mind, public masturbation is still a crime in the USA. (Europe? Who knows anymore.)

I know, I know, details.

I am in a Starbucks that is in a really nice part of town.

Translation? Money, lots of money in this area.

This is LA so the definition of money can hit ridiculous levels. (As compared to parts of the country where “Money” translates into an ac unit in front room AND the bedroom of your double wide.)

It was one of those days were I sat down to write and came up empty.

And then the front door opened and in they came.

12 young, well monied, college girls.

This might be the beginning of a porn film.

And then the “Basic bitch” shit began.

Coffee selfies were taken.

Ridiculously basic complaints were made and the shrill voice of my sorority sisters proceeded to ruin every vile thought in my head.

Very disappointing.

Why do basic bitches have to ruin everything?

Shouldn’t they be passing Facebook chain letters?
Poorly written cut and pasted messages that claim to have been hacked, so don’t accept a new friend request from them. (AND NO ONE GETS THAT REQUEST)

Or posting memes about how a real man or a real friend behaves.

You know, weak minded, basic bitch stuff.

But maybe I am being mean here.

So let’s look at the facts:

  • I am making fun of total strangers without knowing anything about them.
  • I am not related to any of them.
  • My coffee is cold.

Ok, I am absolved of all blame here.

How can I possibly be expected to be nice to total strangers with cold coffee?

I think you are asking too much of me.

The manager sees me approaching and pours me a venti Christmas blend.

I must look shakier than I thought.

When I am low on caffeine, I get twitchy and am capable of anything.

The girls begin shrill laughter about something Manda has on her phone.

Gonna be a long day.

This started out so exciting.

And now? Migraine is developing.

I am creamed and sugared and just settling back in at my laptop, when things change.

Two of the girls begin to quietly make out, and Manda is now getting teary eyed at something in her phone.

Sex and drama, the two things that could salvage this.

There is a part of me, the part that was an alter boy, the one that is thoughtful and kind, that realizes that its wrong to be both joyful at Manda’s pain and horny at the young ladies intimate moment. (Sporting a semi that no one knows about is NOT a crime.)

However, let’s not lose sight 2 very important things:

  • I was only an alter boy for 10 days before that whole scandal erupted. (And thank God for bad memories, no one but me remembers the details of that vile affair.)
  • A single tear making its way down Manda’s cheek, public tongue kissing by smoking hot collegiate girls and an amazing Guatemalan dark roast can make the disappointments of the moment evaporate like a humor blog with little to no readers.

Plus, the Guatemalan roast is THAT good. (God bless Guatemala)

Mmmmm coffee.

Happy New Year.

 
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Posted by on December 31, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

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