Pure Rejection.

       The toughest thing to find out is whether or not a female likes you. Especially during a party. Especially if it's after the men with long glistening chains walk in. It's the tell all moment. You stand taller, fix your hair, straighten your posture. Hold your drink a little higher so they know you can get your own, or make your way over to the bar and wait for the first sucker to make his move. The club is your first taste of what money can buy. No one knows how those bar tabs are being paid - advances, holiday bonuses, income tax return, but no one cares to ask. As long as you've got the dollars to spend, a pretty girl will lead you directly to your table. & Cranberry juice is on the house. The women gyrate a little harder. Dresses rise up a little further. Drinks reach bottom and all of a sudden they begin to wonder --who's taking care of this? Now, the bar is packed with Burberry plaids, Gucci reds & greens and .. oh yea... diamonds. Anything the bitches a notice, for real.

Ella (in Sum).

     I'm peculiar. Odd. Strange. Brazen. Bitchy. Bad (if I might say so myself). I'm the type of girl who goes to a party by herself and passes out business cards with upside down labels stuck on the back of them. (I would though. smh.) The type to interrupt your conversation and tell you that money is calling. Can't you hear it? 

        I'm a hot mess. The only place I've been able to make it to on my most recent Sundays have been Tiffany's & the club. I wouldn't call myself a heathen but others might. Still, born and raised a Catholic, I don't see too much wrong with admiring Gods' creations, especially when slathered in gold. I like pretty things. Pretty people and pretty drinks. Liquor & juice. With a cherry in it --because that'll make me happy.

 If you're just meeting me, that's the purpose of my entire life: To be happy. I make myself happy. I do whatever I want to do because I deserve it. & I depend on no one to do that for me. All I want in this world is to smile. We should be happier. Shit shouldn't be so stressful. You see, I could have spent my night right here behind this computer screen but I couldn't force myself. I could only force myself to do what I wanted to do. & I wanted to share in celebration with happy people. Plus, I bought new boots. I had to bring these bitches out. I don't know who I'm supposed to be, but my name sounds right over the mic. I can't say I'd go party by myself all the time, but when my checks come in right & my wardrobe is where I need it to be, more appearances might be in order.