I’ve raided the wet bar, leaving nothing but ice cubes. Drank the vodka, whiskey, rum, wine… anything I could get my hands on. I feel dirty -- taking four showers has done nothing.
I don’t know where Britney or even JC is. I woke up this morning, saw JC sleeping beside me and just felt disgusted. I felt so gross, I ran downstairs at five in the morning and demanded a room of my own. Bitch gave me a hard time but… they must keep their customers happy and I wasn’t happy.
I’ve locked myself in the room ever since I left JC. Six hours of taking showers, drinking, jacking off, watching television. I ordered room service, charging my tab to be at least over $14,000. I’ve drank everything on their menu, even the vintage wines.
I. Am. Drunk. And have resorted to drinking beer. Gross shit but Miller seems to be the only one I can stand.
So anyway as of right now, I am lying on the bed watching a rerun of Making the Video. It’s um… Back street’s “Shape of My Heart.” Now I’m wondering if they’re as fucked as NSync and Britney. Dear God, I hope not. Although Kevin resembles JC a lot. Wouldn’t mind to fuck him now.
My cell has been ringing like crazy. Twenty messages in the past hour. They’re pretty much all the same:
Britney wanting to fuck. JC wanting to fuck. JC threatening that I should call him back. Britney wanting to fuck.
Listening to their messages puts me to sleep only to waken five minutes later to Britney’s horniness. I made the mistake of picking up the phone after my fifth shower. Yeah… stupidity and drunkenness go hand in hand.
“I’m not here.”
JC’s voice, “Well you sure ain’t here. Where’d you run off to?”
I’m too drunk to argue. “In another room.” I try to think of the number but it hurts too much to think. “Where art thou?”
“Thou is sitting in the fucking lobby waiting for you. Going clubbing or not?”
“Or not. Playboy channel is having a… special… or… yeah.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Yes.”
“I want to see you.”
“See me, fuck me, love me. I don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“I feel dirty.”
“Ever heard of a shower?”
“And I don’t ever want to see you again. I’m disgusted.”
JC grew silent. “You’re fucking someone.”
“Maybe.”
“Who?”
“Gennie. Oh and…” I look around the room and spot my TV. Kevin. “Kevin Richardson. Ever heard of him?”
“Fuck you.” He hung up the phone quickly. I need another beer now.
I spend the rest of the night watching TV Land. Lucy, All in the Family, The Jeffersons, The Brady Bunch. I hated these shows and I still do. Cheers is on next.