Sisters Before Misters

There should be a drinking game where every time your horrible blind date says something terrible, you take a drink. This was the drinking game that Sofia was playing tonight at the popular nightclub, Silverium.

“You’re not as fat as I thought you would be,” he said.

Drink!

“No offense, you’re just not as pretty as my last girlfriend. But hey, gotta start again somewhere for a rebound, imma right?”

Drink!

“You brought protection, right? Because I tried to buy some beforehand, but my card declined at the CVS.”

Drink!

At this point, the club’s bartender just handed the poor girl a bottle of tequila and said ‘good luck’.

Ha, Sofia thought to herself, I don’t need ‘good luck’. I need good liquor. She paused. And a good alibi for why my brother’s dead body mysteriously shows up in the river the day after he sets me up on this terrible date.

In fact, it was because of her stupid brother that she couldn’t leave. Sofia hasn’t been on a date in months so her brother did the ‘heroic’ thing—as her family puts it—and set her up with one of his work buddies. Because let’s just ignore the fact that Sofia was trying to focus on her career instead of getting someone in the sack.

She crushed her plastic cup in her hand.

And now, if she leaves early or calls it off, no matter what the guy was like or what she tells her family, they’ll ridicule her for not dating someone. Because hey, that’s family—judgey to no end. 

As the night wore on, Sofia’s BAC kept going up and up until it crashed through the roof. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she slurred as she stumbled across the crowded dance floor.

Barely making it past the too-complicated pull out door handle, Sofia staggered across the bathroom and sat down beside the handicap stall—bottle still in hand. She took a swing from it. Lovingly, Sofia looked at the bottle. “At least I have you.” She hugged the bottle.

“Having a rough night?”

Sofia glanced up at a slanted girl with a face full of smeared make-up. 

“Yup,” Sofia admitted.

The smeared make-up girl took a seat next to her. “Me too.”

Sofia banded her to the bottle.

“Thanks.” She took a long chug before starting. “I got drunk, then was about to text my ex—“

“DON’T TEXT YOUR EX!” All the other drunk girls in the bathroom cried in perfect unison.

Smear make-up girl waved her hands in the air in the calm down motion. “I didn’t. I was about to when I saw him in the club with another girl. She left to go to the bathroom. He saw me. Started hitting on me—and even touched my butt!—so I escaped into the crowd.”

“Damn.” Sofia glanced around the bathroom. “Who was the girl? We gotta tell her her date was cheatin’.”

She took another swig. “Actually, she’s you.”

Sofia hiccuped, then said. “Oh. Oh damnnnn. Pass me the bottle back.”

She did. After taking another drink, Sofia slurred, “Figures. Dude’s a creep.”

“Yup, that’s why I dumped him.”

“Nice.” Sofia held out her hand. “I’m Sofia.”

“Stacy.”

Squinted at her, Sofia slurred, “Wait a minutttee, you are preeettier than meeee.” She flopped onto the dirty floor of a club’s bathroom. Her shoulder landed on a soft pile of white powder. It might have been coke.

“Nooooo!!” Stacy flopped onto the dirty floor next to her despite not knowing when the last it was washed was. She touched Sofia’s face gently, then smooshed it. “But you’re so purdy.”

“No, you’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty!”

“My pretty what?”

They both laughed at their nonsense then sat back up. “We need to teach that bastard a lesson. Do you know why?”

“Because we’re both pretty~!”

“Yay~”

“I gotta idea. You gotta photoshop?” Stacy slurred.

***

Leaning on each other, Stacy and Sofia stumbled out of the girls’ bathroom and back into the loud club. In their minds, their goal was to reach the DJ’s table and get him to display an embarrassing photoshopped picture of Sofia’s terrible date. And this plan almost immediately fell through.

One guy grabbed Stacy’s arm and pulled her into dance with a goofy grin on his face. As his hand slid down her body, she slapped him hard with her phone, cracking the screen. She called out for Sofia, but couldn’t see her.

Meanwhile, across the dance floor, a dazed Sofia found herself at the bar again. “Gimme ah… ahhhh…” 

“I think you’d had too much,” the bartender said while cleaning a glass. He slid a glass of water towards her. “So did you get rid of your terrible da— oh and here he is.”

The bartender walked over to another customer at the bar and pretended to look busy as Derek sat beside her. “There you are, Sofia,” he said, giving her an awkward hug as she tried to pull away.

As her brain fogged up with alcohol, she slurred, “Donnn’t touch meee.”

“Huh?”

Sofia grabbed the water glass and chucked it at Derek. “You’re so creepy! Stacy! Stacy!” She shrieked. “Get to the DJ!”

Stacy’s head popped up over the crowd as she saw Sofia hop off a bar stool and run—or tried to run—towards the DJ’s stand. So, she ditched the dude and raced over to her as fast as her high heels and intoxicity would let her. 

“Mr. DJ,” Sofia said, “we have a request.”

“What song?” He asked.

Stacy slapped her phone on the table. “Not a song, a picture.”

“You can’t listen to a picture…”

“Actually, you can,” Stacy said, “you just need the right amount of acid.”

“We need to put this picture…” Sofia said as Stacy tried to unlock her cracked phone. “What’s wrong with the phone?”

“I smashed it on a guy that touched my butt.”

“Twice in the same night?” Sofia glanced down. “You do have a great butt, though.”

Stacy did a squat. “Thanks, I’ve been working on it. But for me, ya know?”

“Tots. You are just so amazing.”

“No, you’re so amazing!”

“No you’re—“

“Ah, ladies?” The DJ asked. “Does this conversation have a point?”

“Well, we were going to get revenge on this awful guy, Derek, with a funny photoshopped photo of him, but it was on her phone and now her phone don’t work,” Sofia drunkenly explained.

“You were?”

Both of the girls turned around to see a soaking wet Derek behind him. He glared at them. “Whatever! You bitches were never that hot anyway. I’m a nice guy, I can find something way better than either of you.”

Sofia took out her phone and snapped an unflattering photo of Derek in his soaked outfit. The cheap purple shirt dyes were already starting to color his skin. And it looked like his skinny jeans were shrinking. Not to mention his man bun was totally ruined. “Actually, this could work.” She turned back around to the DJ. “Can you upload this photo on the screen behind you? Please?”

“Sure, no problem.” He snapped the connecting cord into the phone the exact moment Derek screamed wait!

Now, a water-logged looking Derek was displayed all over the club. People snickered under their breaths. A couple of high potheads laughed hysterically. Sofia and Stacy high-fived as Derek stomped off, flushed red. “I’ll never forget this night!” Stacy cried.

But then she did, because they were way too drunk.

However, their updated Snapchat stories and new contact in each other’s phones were more than enough to keep the story going—and the friendship alive and well.