Last night, I was slumming around with Bits on our strip. This Jag pulls up, and we're both shakin' our hips and pushing our tits together, you know, being cute. And out of NOWHERE, storms Bella: A terrifying dark dyke that's six feet tall and wears an Eva Gabor wig. She's got her arms out to push us aside and starts screaming that this is her territory--and AMBUSHES the Jag, pressing her big scary tits up to the passenger window! SHAMELESS!
In a now-regrettable act of revenge, I pulled the wad of gum out of my mouth and threw it at her, pelting her hard in the back of the wig. As she reached around to feel what nailed her, she smooshed the gum deeper. And we laughed...Oh, shit, here she comes! YIKES!
We run, me trying to grab my heels off mid-sprint, and this tranny-looking bitch musta been a track star or some shit, cos she's Hot on our Heels! As we're running, I'm trying to think fast of someplace we can duck into that will be open at nine o'clock at night. Crashing hard into pimps and tourists, I look over my shoulder to see the long, burgundy Lee Press-On Nails of Doom coming straight for my eyeballs..
Up ahead, there's a crowd on the sidewalk that's wrapping around into a parking lot. I can't run anymore, and Bits is ahead of me, but falling behind. I reached out and grabbed her chicken arm and veered her to the right, so that we meshed with the crowd of young pricks and their Valley girlfriends. Jesus! Night of the Living HookerBullies!
A doorguy for the club we're apparently in line for now has seized a frantic Bella and pushed her away from the crowd, and threatens to call the cops. At this she screams "Motherfuckin' white-trash Hon-kaaay!", and we laugh through our panting gulps for smog, still completely bewildered.
Safe, we decide to stay where we are and let Bella go get high and cool off. We realize we're about to go in to Florentine Gardens. We spit-shine each other's faces and fluff each other's hair.. Me and Bits are dressed like hookers, but we look just like everyone else--and in my case, way hotter, shit!
The doorguy was a hero twice tonight, cos he waved us right in. This place is crawling with Johns! Look at these guys! It's quite possible that between me and Bitsy, we've already blown 89% of the entire club.
The first thing Bitsy and I wanna do is have a relaxing cocktail. We sauntered to the bar to see if we could meet any fine men to buy us drinks. Finally, some sleazy business man with his paisley tie draped around his neck like an ugly noodle hits up Bits. There ya go. I get bored and start picking olives outta the little box on the bar. I like to suck out the pimentos and stick the rest of the olive on my finger. It's just something I do.
So I've got a good little hand-puppet going, when a man slides up beside me and says, "You gonna eat that?"..Then he takes my hand and drunkenly shoves the olives on my fingers into his mouth..! I'm too stunned to react to the fact that this man is Rob Lowe.
He's with another blonde woman and they both laugh. He spits my olives into a cocktail napkin and puts his arms around our waists, walking us toward the lit-up staircase at the end of the bar. Holy. Shit.
TO BE CONTINUED...