There I stood. Lost in a sea of button down shirts, with bedazzled crosses on the back, and dresses that I swear my 6 year old couldn’t even smuggle her goodies into. I was in the heart of Jersey. The deep down dirty beat thumping dance floor at Mur Mur in Atlantic City. My vision was blurry from the fog machine and the blinking “hey lets fuck with the high people” strobe lights. My nose irritated from the smell of Axe body spray and that unmistakable stench of attention whoreness.
To the left of me was a very inebriated man, with an iphone, and a screen shot of him with The Situation. Apparently he was on one of the episodes of the Jersey Shore. This was his pick up line by the way. There was no “can I buy you a drink.” No, “my name is John. Or Mikey. Or whatever.” No. His line was “Hey do you watch the Jersey Shore?” (thrusts screen shot in my face) “Boom!! That’s me and The Situation.”
This is your greatest achievement in life? This is what you’re leading with? Sir. Sir. Sir. Sit down.
To the right of me, was the smallest girl I’d ever seen. Teeny tiny little person. Not a midget. Just petite. Her hair was all teased up, and there was visible evidence of the use of a “bump” and extensions. She was just about naked. Save a little sliver of material across her tiny boobies. And some “shorts” that were smaller than my “period panties”. And I loved her. And her naked, young, zero cellulite, zero fat, zero troubled life.
I mean, im sure she has troubles. What guy to go out with. What girl is wearing the same Jessica Simpson heels as her. What to tell her mother when she asks where all her college money went to.
But all in all. She was my hero.
She was the epitome of everything that is brainless. Excessive. Fun.
There’s never been an argument with a baby daddy. There’s never been a day when she came home to find no lights on. There’s never been a moment when she didn’t think she couldn’t bear to go on.
See. These kids. That jump around for 16 hours, listening to what seems to be the same fucking song, are my heroes. Drugged up of course (no sober person has that dedication, energy or focus) dancing, singing, making-out. Living as if no one is watching. As if they alone rule the world.
Sunglasses, glow sticks, blinking lights. Off rhythm, off beat, on beat. Up, down, falling over, throwing up.
All done with this whole “carpe diem” attitude that was admirable.
I glanced down and it was 3:30 am. And I had to get to a 9 am meeting. Because I’m 29. With a 6 year old. And a boss that hates me. A job I’m stuck in because of location. And money. And bills. And all of this life just pushing down on me, threatening to suffocate me every day.
But for one night, I got to see how the other half lives. And parties. And I must say. It was beautiful.
Be Young. Have Fun. Drink Pepsi.
To the left of me was a very inebriated man, with an iphone, and a screen shot of him with The Situation. Apparently he was on one of the episodes of the Jersey Shore. This was his pick up line by the way. There was no “can I buy you a drink.” No, “my name is John. Or Mikey. Or whatever.” No. His line was “Hey do you watch the Jersey Shore?” (thrusts screen shot in my face) “Boom!! That’s me and The Situation.”
This is your greatest achievement in life? This is what you’re leading with? Sir. Sir. Sir. Sit down.
To the right of me, was the smallest girl I’d ever seen. Teeny tiny little person. Not a midget. Just petite. Her hair was all teased up, and there was visible evidence of the use of a “bump” and extensions. She was just about naked. Save a little sliver of material across her tiny boobies. And some “shorts” that were smaller than my “period panties”. And I loved her. And her naked, young, zero cellulite, zero fat, zero troubled life.
I mean, im sure she has troubles. What guy to go out with. What girl is wearing the same Jessica Simpson heels as her. What to tell her mother when she asks where all her college money went to.
But all in all. She was my hero.
She was the epitome of everything that is brainless. Excessive. Fun.
There’s never been an argument with a baby daddy. There’s never been a day when she came home to find no lights on. There’s never been a moment when she didn’t think she couldn’t bear to go on.
See. These kids. That jump around for 16 hours, listening to what seems to be the same fucking song, are my heroes. Drugged up of course (no sober person has that dedication, energy or focus) dancing, singing, making-out. Living as if no one is watching. As if they alone rule the world.
Sunglasses, glow sticks, blinking lights. Off rhythm, off beat, on beat. Up, down, falling over, throwing up.
All done with this whole “carpe diem” attitude that was admirable.
I glanced down and it was 3:30 am. And I had to get to a 9 am meeting. Because I’m 29. With a 6 year old. And a boss that hates me. A job I’m stuck in because of location. And money. And bills. And all of this life just pushing down on me, threatening to suffocate me every day.
But for one night, I got to see how the other half lives. And parties. And I must say. It was beautiful.
Be Young. Have Fun. Drink Pepsi.
Well said. I bet there's people that envy you though. Shit I'm 22 and I get tired of it sometimes. It being the carefree way of life. I'm so ready to graduate from college lol
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Oh, honey! More hugs.
ReplyDeleteThis has been me for the past two months --> "And money. And bills. And all of this life just pushing down on me, threatening to suffocate me every day."
*in my best Celine Dion voice* My heart will go on!!!!
*many more hugs*