i bought this book for hawaii, but i couldnt help but start reading it today.. i only got thru the first three pages and i ‘m fucking DYING. me and this bitch could be friends. here’s an excerpt
flying too close to the sun
Camille said you stole a bag from a homeless guy.”
“Well I guess that depends on your definition of ‘steal.’ I didnt swipe the briefcase,
but i didnt pay for it either,” I reply to my rapt audience with a shrug. They gape at me with open mouths. Apparently this is not a satisfactory explanation.
“OK, I’ll tell you the story, but I’m going to need a little lubrication first.” I whistle for the waitress’ attention and when she looks my way, I shake my highball glass and flash my freshly veneered multipl-thousand-dollar smile. She approaches with
“You, bring me one of these every twenty minutes until we dock or I fall overboard,” I instruct her while swirling the ice in my jewel-colored cocktail.
Hearing this, my cohorts break into the kind of congratulatory laughter exclusive to drunken salespeople. The waitress emits a fake chuckle, too, although I sense she’s almost had it with me. What-ever. Have I NOT stuffed her apron full of twenties all
afternoon? How about a little gratitude? When I was a waitress I would have KILLED to work on a boat like this. Instead, I slaved away in a shitty campus bar serving college athletes who considered a good tip a quarter and a grope worthy of a sexual harassment suit. (Seriously, if the basketball team kept their hands on the ball half as often as they tried on my ass, we’d have totally won the Big Ten Converence that year.) And I was thankful for the opportunity. This girl is lucky to have caught me in the beginning of a story, or i would totally give her the news…even if it meant my next cocktail came with a spit chaser.
Pick this shit up! i think i got it at target. “Bitter is the New Black.” by Jen Lancaster. Confessions a condescending, egomaniacal, self-centered smart ass, or why you should never carry a Prada Bag to the unemployment office.