above: a really shit quality photo of me and nellie taken at the photobooth in korova. more on that later.
at one point in every man’s life, he must ask himself a question that will change his life forever.
last night was my time to ask this all-changing question, and that question was:
am i going to beyonce night at korova tonight?
for literally an hour this question plagued my thoughts.
at first my answer was ‘no. of course not. that would be so irresponsible. i have so much work and i have no money and i’m tired and sick and that’s just such a bad idea.’
and i tried to turn my mind away from the queen, but the question gnawed away at me.
i tried to do work, but beyonce kept returning.
i was conflicted and i was actually having physical reactions to the stress.
it was at around 10:30pm that i decided i was going, but it was partway through putting on my pants that i realized how bad of an idea that was.
this was me at the height of my indecisiveness:
i was torn.
and then i had an epiphany.
why on earth was i choosing beyonce night of all nights to be responsible? i could never turn my back on the queen.
so i whipped up an outfit and nellie and i darted for the dep to pick up some cheap wine and the night began.
upon arriving at korova we decided to take some commemorative photos at their photo booth.
some jackass took our photos out before they could develop properly because he thought they were his. this pissed me off because we’d told him about a billion times that his photos were going to print after ours and that he’d probably need to wait another ten minutes.
as a result, our photos developed with a weird blue tint and the bottom two are barely even visible.
i was angry at this stupid guy for a while, but we decided we’d forget about it and just dance on the stage.
it was while i was dancing that the same guy who ruined our photos came up to the stage, pulled me towards him and stuck his tongue down my throat.
now, drunk me has this awful habit of just letting things happen, so i didn’t even protest.
we just made out there for a while and then he lifted me onto his back so my legs were around his waist and my arms were around his neck and then he turned his head and we made out some more.
on stage.
for the whole world to see.
apparently nellie tried to save me at one point but i gave her dagger eyes because drunk me is woah amounts of ridiculous.
eventually i came to my senses and hopped off his back and he turned around and started making out with some girl and it was like we were having some weird threesome or something so i walked off the stage and went to find nellie.
ugh korova.
but at least the music was great.
at one point they played losing you by B’s sister solange and that was when i decided my night was made.
i got over my guilt over my slutty act of treason by dancing it away.
dancing is honestly the best.
and it was way more crowded than i thought it would be and everyone knows the vibe of a good crowd makes everything better.
my friend even started crowd surfing at one point.
i was impressed.