“Whore!”

“Yeah! Whore!” I said, toasting our shot glasses, “but actually she wasn’t really a whore. She was kind of a prude if anything.”

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“We call girls that we don’t like whores. We just do. We don’t mean it literally. It’s just easy to yell when we’re drunk.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, well cool. Then she’s a fucking…motherf…she’s a whore!”

“See how easy that is?”

Chelsea was still in a decent enough state to call a cab to take us out, and when the guy showed up she was in a decent enough state to drag me behind her out of the house and into the backseat. People, this is what friendship is all about.

“Hey, we just want to go somewhere where we can have a good time,” she told the driver, while my face cuddled with the glass window.

“It’s L.A. That’s everywhere!” he yelled, slightly annoyed already.

“Fine, take us where you take everybody else then.”

And so he did. We were on our way to a night of drunken, sexual debauchery courtesy of this city called Los Angeles.

Or not.

He dropped us off at a fancy hotel and burned rubber pulling away from the curb. We were pretty much stranded. Not that I noticed of course. I was too busy thinking I was awesome. The false self-esteem alcohol gives me is the kind of thing you learn about in health class. You know, before they show the peer pressure video and a picture of a girl like me who only realizes her own self-worth when downing wine coolers in someone’s backyard.

“Why the fuck did he drop us off here?” Chelsea asked, walking towards the large sliding doors.

“Who knows?” I shrugged, throwing my arm around her neck.

“No more drinks for you, by the way.”

“Oh sure…mom!”

“I’m serious, Spencer!”

I stood up tall, saluting her before collapsing in a fit of giggles on the ground.

“I can get up myself.”

As soon as we made it through the doors, it was clear why we had been abandoned here. This wasn’t just any hotel. It was the kind of hotel guys booked for their bachelor parties. It was the kind of hotel Paris Hilton made sex tapes in. It was the kind of hotel that was going to help me forget about that chick named Carmen.