Tonight, someone thought it would be a good idea to give me a complimentary VIP table at Blue Martini. Yes, tonight. I am writing this at 3 AM, 50% drunk, 50% asleep, 100% hungry. The events that occurred were too good I couldn’t possibly wait 8 hours to write about them. I was given 6 red bulls, 6 bottled waters, 4 mixers, and 1 liter of vodka. Either the promoter thought I am an alcoholic (still up for debate), or he thought I was going to bring an army of friends to share with. After 10 “I’m tired” texts, a normal person would probably say thanks but no thanks, and take the bottle offer up another night. I’ve never been normal, so obviously I took the offer and flew solo. We arrived around 11, me, myself, and my bottle. We started off on great terms.

            Even though I am, myself, a bottle girl, I’ll never understand the concept. You can only make a limited amount of drinks using the mixers provided.

1.      Vodka Cranberry: boring, unless you are trying to get drunk and cure a yeast infection at the same time…

2.      Vodka Orange: only valid before 9 AM.

3.      Vodka Cranberry mixed with Orange: you are a member of the population who likes brown drinks.

4.      Vodka red bull: sorry,  I‘ll take my heart attack later. 

            It’s funny really, when men have a bottle they act like complete idiots. They think having a bottle is permission to be a jerk and treat girls like coasters. It was great to see the tables turn for once. The looks of pure intimidation was all over every dudes face who saw me sitting with my bottle.  They didn’t know whether to try and talk to me or stay far,far away, and most of them were just plain scared of me. Finally, one guy, still in his suit and tie from work, mustered up the courage to say hello.

“What’s a girl like you doing by herself tonight?”, he asked. I could have answered, “I’m supporting my friend who works here and he gave me this bottle for free.”

I probably shouldn’t have answered, “my pimp bought me this bottle so I can meet new customers.” Forget baseball, lying to strangers is America’s true #1 pastime.

            It’s amazing how when one lie comes out, many more begin to follow. I then lied about being a bartender, and offered to pour shots for him and all of his business traveler friends (thank you Blue Martini for supplying a shaker at the table). After 3 rounds of chilled cranberry and vodka shots, I knew it was time to call it a night. Usually when I meet people at a club that I know I’ll never see again, I try to sneak off without saying bye. It leaves me in a limbo of excitement in their brain. This time, however, it wasn’t so easy to escape as I was literally in the back corner and was forced to walk through the crowd of business guys. He asked me for my card, and I replied, “You can’t afford me”, winked, and then started walking awkwardly fast before he had the chance to ask me anything else.

            The moral of this story is: A girl with a bottle will attract LOTS of attention. If a friend ever needs to be cheered up after a breakup, get her a bottle, and let her turn down every guy who comes her way that night.  Even let her lie about being a call girl. The second moral of this story is: juice sucks, drink vodka sodas!