You can't take me anywhere

I've decided I want to do everything in the world. And if I have to do it by myself, I have to do it by myself. This sucks, but hopefully it's a situation that takes care of itself.

Because of this, I got to go to a very exclusive party in a very exclusive place with very successful, notable and beautiful people tonight. I also got to go to it alone. My current situation notwithstanding, I probably would've wound up by myself there anyway, mostly because the people I gravitate towards would rather chop off their own testicles than go to some red carpet bullshit party.

So I got poured into some ridiculous dress, propped up on some crazy tall heels and let loose into a super exclusive party full of people way out of my league. It's the same scene every time...coke in the bathroom, alcohol everywhere, more drugs than I can even name, incredibly expensive clothing and really shitty music.

You can imagine how well I fit in.

The thing with me though...give me high enough heels, some of those drugs and that alcohol and I can fake it long enough to get by.

Despite my ability to blend in, at the end of the day I'm still myself.

This poses a problem.

This poses a bigger problem if I'm already feeling vulnerable.

I was meandering to the bar, chit chatting and making small talk with people I have jack shit in common with when I heard a snapping noise. I kept walking. There wasn't a drink in my hand and come hell or high water something good will happen this week and I'm not positive that little shred of good isn't hiding at the bottom of a bottle.

I heard the snapping again.

I kept walking.

That's when I heard the whistle.

I stopped mid stride and stood there just for a second. There's no way anyone at this party would be whistling at me. Unless they maybe thought I worked there and they needed a drink, but not for any other reason.

I heard it again, immediately followed by a "Hey! Dollface!"

I turned around to see a gorgeous man in a very expensive suit staring at me. Brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes and a resemblance to Robert Downey Jr. that made me look twice. Then he smiled at me and proceeded to whistle in my direction again and nod his head in a kind of "come here" gesture.

As it stands, I'm kind of in a weird place. I just want someone to scratch my head, kiss me on the cheek when I have nightmares and watch TV with me. A normal girl would see this man and think "Maybe he could be my head scratcher. And oh, he looks like Robert Fucking Downey Jr. maybe you should give this a whirl, the worst case scenario involves waking up in a penthouse with someone who looks like Robert Downey Jr."

Unfortunately, the girl he was whistling at wasn't normal. The girl he was whistling at was me.

I decided now is as good a time as any to start talking to guys I might want to spend some time with. I very casually wandered over to him, smiled and said nothing. He leaned in, right against my ear and whispered "Dollface. You look stunning. I have a penthouse, you should come see it."

I took a little step back, smiled sweetly and leaned right into him until my lips were almost against his ear whispered "Clare. My name is Clare, not Dollface. I am not a dog. If you whistle at me again, I'll rip your lips right off of your face.", kissed him right on the mouth, turned on my heel and walked away.

I don't know why I don't get invited to more of these things.

It occurs to me that I could be in bed with a gorgeous man that drips money and style. Instead, I'm sitting in the middle of a gigantic bed wearing the worlds most ridiculous dress and eating pizza while watching USA.

Because this is what I do. I ruin everything by threatening to rip people's lips off of their faces.

It's a miracle I'm single, isn't it?