Tag - That Girl is a Hot Mess

That Girl is a Hot Mess

It was Friday night and I had plans to meet up with my buddy Virgle Kent at a club in Arlington.

I was already a few drinks ahead so it was easy to pace my drinking and focus on talking to women. Not long after we caught up with each other, two trashy white girls in shorts stopped in front of us. On the right, a pasty brunette with long curly hair and bright red lipstick. On the left was a coke-skinny short-haired ginger with a ton of freckles. I don’t usually go for red heads, but for some reason this seemingly bi-sexual one was absolutely passing the boner test. The only thing was, they were acting, well… off.

VK: “What the fuck are they on?”

The two girls immediately looked at each other, as if understanding without hearing, then turned and walked over and opened us. We immediately paired off and I ended up with the ginger.

They told us that they lived together not far from the club and had bunk beds. I knew it would have been hilarious if we both went home with them, but the conversation wasn’t really escalating anywhere for myself or VK. I left to hit the bathroom and found them at the bottom of the stairs talking to one of the bouncers on my way back to the main level.

Ginger: “There’s our friend! Hi!”

They were out of their minds (literally). I waved and met back up with VK, who shared the same sentiment about them being both being nuts.

Me: “Could be fun, but who knows if they’ll be back. No use waiting.”

VK agreed, so we focused our attention elsewhere… He spotted the girls from before out on the dance floor, but his girl was dancing with another guy so he didn’t bother. I walked in and a typical American grind session went down. I made sure to grab her number this time, because although she was giving off that DTF vibe it was obvious how flaky they both were. Sure enough, they went off together to some other part of the club.

When I got back my wingman was chatting with a short, cute brunette. I texted Hot Mess to secure my back up plans for the evening. She’d sent me a picture of her and a friend dolled up in front of the bathroom mirror (it was supposed to be an X-rated pic but she was unable to figure out her phone’s flash while intoxicated). Instead, I got the same lame posing picture five times…

VK hit it off with some Slovakian chicks but it fizzled out as quickly as it began… but not before I shared my drink with one of the girls. I turned my back for a second. Big mistake. Half my drink had just been downed by their cock-blocking friend. It was too late. They left shortly afterwards, but for some reason I didn’t let it get to me.

The trashy white girls showed up again before making their third disappearing act. This time the ginger had a huge lipstick kiss across her cheek and smeared blotches all across her mouth and lips. It was not attractive.

We’d had enough, and took off for one of our regular spots in DC. By now it was nearly 2am, so we really didn’t have much time left.

I noticed I had half a dozen missed texts from Hot Mess. She was living up to the name… apparently her friends had left her stranded at a bar on the other side of town. She was not happy.

I called her.

She was straight up out of it… and crying hysterically. Apparently she’d gotten into a fight too, She was going to call a cab.

Me: “No, I’m on my way.”

I know I know… she’s not even my girlfriend… sometimes you just gotta take care of business.

After being unable to locate VK or reach him via text, I had to bail and head over to the other part of town. I felt bad, but it was late and sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

By the time I got to H street there were police everywhere (it’s not the greatest part of town anyway, even during the day). There she was, standing on the side of the road looking like a lost puppy.

She was absolutely trashed, but that outfit… damn.

Hot Mess: “Thanks so much Gmac, I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
Me: “Are you ok? What the hell is going on?”
Hot Mess: “It’s a long story…”

We sped off.

As it turns out, they hadn’t really left her there so much as all gone home. She was just being a typical chick and of course that meant being the center of attention and drama. She’d picked a fight with some slutty black girls in a bad part of town, screwed with some pro-lifers (“I’ve had more abortions than I can count!”), and nearly got herself run over in the street. Twice.

By the time we got to my place she’d calmed down and the clothes came off in the kitchen before we even got to the bedroom. Out to the balcony we went…

And another round upstairs.

Then the waterworks started again.

Me: “What’s wrong now?”

She was incoherent, obviously still drunk out of her mind and mumbling/rambling about some ex of hers from three years ago and about how it was over. It didn’t make sense and I couldn’t really make out much (she didn’t recall any of it in the morning either).

I woke up at 5am needing to piss like a race horse, so I got out of bed and did my thing.

As I was finishing up I could hear Hot Mess bolting down the stairs past me. I grabbed a spare toilet paper roll and followed her down because I knew the other bathroom’s was empty. Only, she wasn’t in there. What the…?

I could hear doors opening and slamming shut downstairs on the first floor.

Great, the last thing I need is her crazy drunken ass going into one of my female roommate’s rooms by mistake and stirring shit up this early on a Saturday…

I bounded down the stairs and saw the door to the garage open…

The fuck?

As I turned on the light I could hear the sound of her piss hitting the concrete floor of the garage. Then I saw her around the corner, squatting… dress pulled up above her waist. She froze immediately at the sight of me, like a deer caught in headlights. Are you serious…?

Me: “What are you doing?! There’s a bathroom upstairs!” *pointing*
Hot Mess: “Well… where is it?!”
Me: “Come on… (grabbing her hand) I brought you *this* for a reason.”

She had completely missed the other bathroom. I left her there and crawled back into bed upstairs… seething with anger until after she returned.

In the morning she was apologizing profusely… for everything. There was a huge bruise all down her bicep that we couldn’t figure out.

We had a round of really rough morning sex because my upper floor roommate wasn’t home. Then I cooked breakfast to help out with her nasty hangover.

That hair was a hilarious sight to see.

She had to be at work in an hour.

Good times.