It’s 11 am on Saturday morning. You pry your eyes open between the layers of mascara attached to your face and awaken to realize this is not your bedroom. This is not anybody’s bedroom. This is the fucking hallway outside your apartment.
The last thing you remember is having a very public makeout session with your back burner bro at the bars before throwing up all over him and telling him that you hated that shirt anyway. You quickly decide to look at your texts to see who else you pissed off the night before. After manically throwing the contents of your Chanel bag all over the floor while attempting to piece together your night, you realize this is a lost cause. You’ve lost like, all your shit. Like, where is your iPhone? Where are your keys? Where is your left fucking heel? Dunzo. Congrats betch, you’ve mastered the art of blacking out and losing all your shit.
Losing shit when you’re drunk is not the same as when you’re sober…obviously. Most of the time when you lose something soberly, it’s like oops I left my credit card at the restaurant, or SHIT where did I just put my phone!? Oh it’s in my hand.
Losing shit doesn’t really get serious unless you’re blackout and make decisions like ‘ugh I gotta take my jacket off, this shit is seriously obstructing guys’ views of me’ and ‘My phone is attracting too much attention from the croc-wearing herbs at the bar, I’ll just put it on the floor..’
We’ve all been there, and when we say there, we mean the morning after when you can’t find your camera or your underwear. I mean, being a betch is hard enough, why does everyone expect us to keep track of all our belongings? You’re mad I ‘misplaced’ your leather jacket? You’re like soo materialistic, I mean it’s not like I lost like, a person!
Speaking of losing people, remember the time you woke up that morning to all your besties frantically texting each other, uh where’s Melissa? And a couple hours later you find her sleeping in the mail alcove of your apartment building…
Anyway, there are always haters like parents and poor people who are like ‘ohh you’re so irresponsible. You don’t know the value of a dollar blah blah blah.” But I mean, any Wharton graduate can tell you that fiscal responsibility is for those without any fucking money. So while normal people might waste time trying to hunt down the things they lost, a betch just orders new shit. We don’t even tell our parents, we just embezzle money from our own bank accounts in order to buy the item again without our parents noticing. “Mom, TOLD you I was getting a new phone. You must’ve been barred out, AGAIN. YOU’RE so irresponsible.”
So betches, you should never feel too bad about losing something really nice, because if it’s nice and trendy, it’s probably going out of season soon anyway. Think of losing shit like the casualties of any great war. In the war on sobriety, there are certain sacrifices we must make. As famous pro Abraham Lincoln once said, “we highly resolve that the shit you lost last night, has not been lost in vain.” Just take it from Betch 2, last night she lost her dignity, and one porcelain veneer.