Glitterati

I am at this grand opening for some new store trying to look as cool and calm as possible alhough I swallowed a mouthfull of dexedrines in the limousine before I went in. One of the waitresses hands me a glass of champagne, which I accept, and tries to engage a conversation with me, but I’m too busy concentrating on keeping my arms and legs from flailing round to notice, so she loses interest and moves on. A designer mistakes for Christian Bale and says “Hello, Christian” and I nod back and move further down the crowded room, accompanied by some dubstep or twostep or something with extremely heavy bass.

I try to dance for a minute or two but don’t really feel like it when I realize my balance has withered down from the drugs and instead I lean back against a wall, pondering on whether I should go home or not. Some actor who once was hot but now isn’t enters and he shakes my hand as he passes by. I numbly shakes his back. The music shifts to some hipster version of hip-hop and the actor’s entourage seem to enjoy it. I finish my glass of champagne just in time to see that the waitress from before notices me again and begins to walk towards me, her eyes focused on mine. I just now grasp the beauty of her and can’t help but smile when she says;

“Hi, again”.
“Hi, babe”, I answer and add, ”who do you have to hump to get a Stoli around here?”, but with a wry touch to show I’m kidding.
She laughs and shows me her perfect, white teeth and I really want to fuck her. Natalia’s out of town doing some modelling in Milan. Not that it matters, but it somehow sparks my lusts. We stand there clumsily for some time before I grab her hand and lead her through the crowd. In the process she whispers something in my ear I don’t comprehend, but I get a boner anyhow.

Just as we are about crawl our way through the mass of people I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. The hand belongs to some blogger I barely know and I faintly give him a hug and congratulate him on his recent success. In return he compliments me for my sneakers, but I really don’t care, and answer with some cliché I often use in situations like these. He’s good looking, but I have a slightly better haircut. We say goodbye and the only thing I remember from our conversation was that he seems smaller than I thought. As we flee through the exit, me and the waitress, Billy Walsh screams;
“Hey, love to see you in Flatliners II, babe”.
“Talk to my agent”, I yell back, jumping in the back seat of my limousine.
On the way home I swallow a fistful of ludes, hoping it will calm my nerves, while the waitress gently strokes my dick. I wonder if she’s a screamer or a moaner in bed, but decide it really doesn’t matter and instead lean back, watching my erection grow.