My fingers are snapping and my lips are pursed,  my hair is flying and my hips are movin.   My girls and I are singing in unison,  and pointing at each other…

“I party like a rockstar, look like a movie star, play like an all-star, fuck like a porn star. Baby I’m a superstar, always postin’ at the bar, always with a couple broads, maybe I’m just th-that raw.”

I take a bathroom break and reapply my lipstick.   Can I just say that I look fucking AMAZING tonight?    My hair is on point, my skin is flawless, and real talk, I’m probably prettier than you think you are.    I’m just sayin…   and even though I’ve been asked numerous times to dance,  I’ve declined every one of ‘em. I have yet to see The Smirker tonight and when I do, I dont want it to be at the same moment I decide to grind up on some other dudes crotch.   Not a good look.

As I walk out of the bathroom and scan the room , I catch my girl Angel walkin in lookin high on life.   Angel hasn’t always been one of my prettiest friends… in fact she needs braces and has a flat face but dayum, she tellin me bout this guy she’s flirting with at the bar and it looks promising.   Good for her.. everyone needs a lil love, right?  I walk out and rejoin my party. 

4 shots later and I’m simply buzzin.  I’m usually not this lightweight but  maybe if this dress wasnt so tight I would have allowed myself to have more than 2 pieces of sushi for dinner.   I turn around and tell the ugly guy tryin to gyrate in my direction to STOP and just as I’m walking away, I see him.

There he is.   My Smirker.    He’s standing at the bar lookin dapper as ever.  He looks like he’s talking to someone, her hand is stroking his arm. I feel a pang of jealousy and take a sober second to shake that shit off.   I take a step closer and.. no… is that… its Angel?!?!   ANGEL SNAGGLE TOOTH PANCAKE FACE!?!

OH.  HELL. NO.

I am seething.  And just as I’m about to put an ugly bitch in her place, I stop myself.  What am I doing? Who is he to me?  Why does it matter?   I have a good man at home.  The Smirker is just…  fuck, I dont even know what this is but I do know that I have no right to feel this way.  

I surprise myself because I’ve never felt like this before.  I always see him pullin hoes, flirting with girls and its never bothered me before.  Ever.  But I guess last night’s escapades flipped a switch that I can’t turn off.  I think long and I think hard and I realize I refuse to look like a fool.  I make a decision right there and then to cut him off.  Last night was a mistake that wont be made again.  That was that.  Done. Pau. Next.

I am no longer declining dances OR drinks and I turn into a belligerant hot mess.  I am shitfaced, dancing on top of tables like I’m the next pussy cat doll or something and I almost forget about the whole debacle with The Smirker.  I don’t see him the rest of the night and I leave happy and drunk fully intent on crawling into bed with my mansies and making him breakfast in the morning as repayment. 

After finishing off a plate of Moons Over My Hammy at Denny’s, I’m in the car ride back dozing off.  And then, just as we’re taking my exit, there it goes.  *ping*   I look down and it reads, “Hey, I’m home and just thinking about you. What are you doing? “ 

“Drop me off at my car, ” I lie.  “Me and the boyfriend are fighting.  I’m gonna stay at my moms.”    The girls give me this look of understanding, and oblige.  I get into my car, reach for my phone and type a reply.   

“I’m coming over.”   And as I hit send, I smirk.