Officially the best tits I’ve ever seen and they are attached to Jessica Simpson. Not until I saw her face and heard people talking about her did I put it together that Jessica Simpson, the dumb ass is the same as Jessica Simpson the singer. She’s definitely gotten much farther being stupid than singing and to be honest that pisses me off. She gets credit for being stupid, its cute. It’s not cute in my opinion but her breasts are more than cute. They were practically hanging out of her dress. You couldn’t help but stare at them.
Everyone in this place screamed, “Look at me.” Everyone was attractive, for the most part, and everyone wanted to be seen with everyone. I’ve taken pictures with just about everyone at the concert. Well, actually not everyone just every man. No woman wants to give credit to another woman especially by wanting to take a picture with her. That is, if she has any self-respect. There can only be one queen bee and everyone else must follow her. There is no woman in my life who demands any more than I do.
“After the concert the editor-in-chief of In Style magazine wants to meet with you.” In Style magazine. I’ve never been on the cover of In Style and now that’s my mission. I’ve been on the inside in a blurb or a fashion layout but I want the cover. If it’s going to be done its going to be done right.
“I want the cover.” Marti frowned,
“Of In Style? I don’t even know if they want a story.” I looked at her like she was from another planet,
“What else would they want?” What kind of crack was she smoking? Speaking of…I want a little pick me up, this thing is boring me to tears.
“I’m headed out for a while. I’ll be back.” She looked like she was ready to lay an egg,
“What? Where are you going? When are you coming back?” I leaned down to whisper,
“Calm down Marti. I’m going to the bathroom.” I slid past the best tits in the world, making sure to steal a glance or two and made my way up the aisle. As I was walking into the shadows of the hall I heard the Backstreet Boys being introduced. I’m sure that’s Nick’s group and I’ve never heard him sing. For a moment I thought about staying but its just singing. I’m sure he’s not going to lose his voice anytime soon and it’s really not a big deal anyway. I can’t say that I’m a fan.
The bathroom was like a suite. I sat down on one of the couch and reclined with my eyes closed. This concert was taking far too long and I’m ready to leave now. The door opened and in walked two desperate wannabe. They wanted to looked like they belonged and they wanted to snag a man with money. But it would never happen, at least not during the daylight hours. They might get the good fortune of getting screwed and, if they’re lucky, a little tip afterwards, but nothing permanent and nothing that would allow them to meet other important people. With their classy dresses and rich hairstyles they still looked cheap. The dresses didn’t cover their frames like pure silk, they hung on them like cheap rayon. Class, grace and beauty could not be bought it was natural. Take someone like Paris Hilton. For all her cheap clothes and sluttish behavior she still emanated money. It was apparent. These poor girls had no clue as they tried to give me a look that screamed I was beneath them. I stood up,
“Hey ladies, take a good look at me. I’m not like you…I’m better.” They scoffed at me and I rolled my eyes as I headed towards the door,
“See this bag?” I raised my small clutch for them to see,
“It costs more than both of your borrowed showgirl dresses combined.” I looked down at their shoes and smiled. Just as I thought, cheap. I sighed heavily looking around for somewhere to go to take care of my needed pick me up.
“May I help you ma’am?” I turned to see an usher waiting expectantly for my reply.
“Actually you can. Where is a more…private bathroom?” He smiled,
“In fact there is. If you go around the corner and up the three steps then go to your right there will be a long corridor and at the end there is a bathroom. It’s closer to a conference room so most people don’t really know its there.” I smiled at him and began to walk of as I waved goodbye with my fingertips,
“Thanks darling.”
I locked the door behind me and sat down on the settee. This bathroom was a lot more formal than the other. I guess its one thing to be at a concert but you were probably a bit more rich and deserving of a grander environment if you were scheduling meetings in the conference room. I pulled my gold compact out of my bag and mixed the powder a few times before taking a small amount and executing a perfect hit. The feeling was amazing, it has been two days since my last hit but it seemed like even more after feeling the affects. I haven’t really been around anyone that I've been able to enjoy coke with. Sarah was as clean cut as one could possibly get and I have a feeling, a strong feeling, Nick is right there with her. I stretched my torso on the settee and closed my eyes.
I sat up and cleared my throat looking around to find I was in a bathroom. Wow, that was some power nap. I sat for a moment while I looked at myself through my compact mirror. I better make it back to the arena before Marti sent out a search party for me. I slid past Ms. Tits and into my seat. Marti immediately launched into hyper mode,
“Where have you been? I looked all over for you…everywhere.” I could imagine Pam spazzing but not Marti.
“I was in the bathroom.” Her eyes were as wide as saucers,
“For thirty-five minutes? I searched the bathroom. I was ready to notify security.” That couldn’t be right. I wasn’t asleep for that long was I? That’s impossible.
“Darling please; I had a headache and I needed some quiet time. One of the ushers told me about a more private bathroom without a lot of traffic.” She looked like she was ready to pop a vein or something, it really wasn’t attractive on someone who was already thirty.
“Don’t make that face Marti, it will cause wrinkles. You're not getting any younger you know.” She was flabbergasted but I didn’t see any need to get upset. No harm no foul.
“Well, thank God it wasn’t time for you to go back…” An ugly woman in a dowdy black dress screamed out,
“Ms. Locke. Its time for you to head backstage. You’re on soon.” Marti sighed as she stood up to follow me. It’s not like soon actually meant anything. If I step foot on the stage sooner than thirty minutes I’ll donate a million bucks to some fat girl’s camp.
An hour later I placed my hand in the hand of a really cute Irish actor and walked out onto the stage. I could hear whistles of approval as I glided across the stage and to the podium. Just as I was about to speak there were cheers and more whistles. Being adored, I love it more than life. Some may think that’s being overdramatic but it’s the truth. I would rather die than living an anonymous life.
Marti and I climbed into the limo and headed off to the after party but not before we made a stop at my hotel for a change. There is no way I can show up at the after party wearing the same thing I wore at the concert.
“That Sue Wong looks fabulous. And the red looks great on you.” I smiled at Marti then looked down,
“I love red; it makes me feel sexy and wild.” Marti laughed,
“You don’t need a color to make you wild.” No, I don’t. Just a little motivation. I sat back and waited for arrival. I’m feeling motivated already.
Chapter 124
Stranger Than Fiction
Stories
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