High Society, Low Sobriety

I met Erika on eHarmony. Erika was a blond-haired blue eyed paralegal who didn’t look too shabby in her magenta bikini shamelessly displayed as her profile picture.

After following the monotonous eHarmony protocol of answer pre-written questions that are completely irrelevant to life in general, we decided to meet for drinks.

I chose a spot conveniently located outside of her East Village residence to have drinks on a Sunday evening and was quite relieved to discover that she wasn’t 40 lbs heavier than advertised like the last girl I had met for a blind date.

When I ascended to make Erika’s acquaintance upon her arrival, she  tripped over her high heel and essentially face planted onto the hardwood floor.

I immediately rush to help her and see if she was OK and got a whiff of what smelled like a mini bar inside her mouth.

“Sorry, I was brunching pretty much all day in the Hamptons and just getting back,” she said sheepishly.

“Oh OK, fun weekend then?”

“Yes. I’m obsessed with the Hamptons. That is pretty much what I do every weekend in the summer. So many parties and social events.”

“I take it you and your friends rented a house out there?”

“No we kind of just wing it,” she replied, slurring her speech. “My friends and I just kind of pack a small bag and usually the parties we go to guys rent houses and shit. And we just kind of make friends and usually find a place to crash.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous? I mean, getting drunk and going home with strangers?” I said somewhat concerned.

“Listen, I am a big girl and I know what I am doing. It’s not like I’m going to a party with a bunch of shitty poor people. I’m going where the socialites and high society people go. That’s who I hang around.”

Erika then excused herself to stumble into the ladies room.

After 10 minutes I was somewhat worried for her well being given how intoxicated she appeared to be, but I figured I would give her some time to get herself together.

Suddenly, a stranger tapped me on the shoulder and inquired as to whether or not I was with with the blonde girl passed out in the ladies room.

I shamefully admitted that we were on a first date and that she had shown up absolutely wasted in order to avoid said stranger thinking that I roofied this bitch.

I went into the bathroom and pull Erika off of the floor and used paper towels to clean the vomit and toilet water out of her hair from laying her head directly on top of the toilet seat.

When Erika came to, I put her in an Uber despite the fact she only lived four blocks from our current location and bid her high-class ass farewell.

I doubt I will ever see Erika again, and if I do, I doubt she would remember.

*not actually picture of Erika


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