Going Nowhere

No Thanks, Mr. Stripper

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Here is a humor

Enjoy

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“Open the door birthday bitch!”

I looked up from the E-card I’d gotten from my cousin and stared at the door. Once again, there was a loud pounding on the heavy wooden door. “Your friends are calling,” Tara, my roommate, stated irritably without looking up from her laptop.

 Bracing myself, I shut my MacBook and placed it on my desk. Then, I stood up and padded over to the door of my dorm room. I let out a deep breath, and then I opened the door.

“Happy birthday, Bridget!”

Before I could even register the two girls standing in front of me, they flooded into my tiny dorm room as loudly as they could. Still surprised, I shut the door and turned around to see my friends making themselves at home on my bed and at my desk.

“Sorry, Tara,” I said, giving my roommate an apologetic look.

“Whatever,” Tara snapped, “I’ll go study somewhere else.” Then, she packed up her laptop and textbooks and was gone.

“She does know it’s a Saturday night, right?” Poppy, my best friend, said, raising an eyebrow. I shrugged, and then saw the box sitting in my other best friend, Carly’s, lap.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the box.

“You didn’t think we weren’t going to take you out on your 21st did you?” Carly asked with a smirk. “Nuh-uh, girl, we are gonna get you drunk!”

“I’ve been drunk before,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest. It was only once, but hey, I wasn’t much of a partier. I would much rather be watching movies on my laptop while eating Ramon Noodles. Poppy and Carly on the other hand? They were regulars at the college parties.

“Not legally,” Poppy retorted, “and you don’t have a choice, anyways. Carly and I have a fun night planned for you.”

“Should I be scared?” I asked, and the way Poppy and Carly looked at each other answered that question for me. Yes; be very, very scared Bridget.

Poppy checked her phone and pursed her lips. “We only have an hour before we’re meeting Janet and Stephanie,” she said, and she gave Carly and annoyed look, “I told you that you were spending too much time on your hair.”

“And yet it looks fabulous,” Carly replied, pulling at her chocolate curls with a grin. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

Before I could ask what Carly was talking about, she had opened my closet and started going through my clothes. I opened my mouth to protest, but Poppy grabbed me and shoved me unceremoniously onto my desk chair.

“Why do I feel like I have no say in what is about to go on?” I asked as Poppy pulled her giant makeup bag out of the box.

“Because you don’t,” Carly called over her shoulder, and I chuckled.

“Do I at least get to know where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

I’ll admit it; when I first met Carly my sophomore year, I didn’t like her at all. She struck me as arrogant and overwhelming, and I had never been the person to be friends with someone like that. Eventually, she’d grown on me, and we became inseparable.