Can I get a Dancing Queen? (pt 2)

Can I get a Dancing Queen? (pt 2)


As we continued to party like the fucking rock stars we are while sipping our Cîroc Red Berry, we decided to go cool off outside. There, as I was taking a drag off my American Spirit cigarette, I spotted the most beautiful twink I had ever seen in my life.

He was wearing 6-inch heels, tight black shorts and a turtleneck crop top. Mr. Beautiful Gay man had contour sharper than Madonna’s titties circa 1990, with the most flamboyant faux mink eyelashes. I looked at my friends and whispered “Oh my fucking God. That is the hottest gay man I have ever seen… Damn.” At that moment he whipped his head around. “Oh shit. He heard me.”

At that moment, he walked straight toward me and started making out with me in the middle of the crowd. Then he pulled away – looked at me and said “I may be gay, but if I weren’t… damn. You’d be my first choice.”  

As he walked away, I was just drunk enough to almost fall over with excitement.

The next morning after getting home I woke up with a hangover from hell, rolled over and looked at my phone to see my friends send me another group message. It was Katie;

“Wow, I just realized that Allie made out with the hottest queen in the gay club last night.”

I smiled to myself in my hungover state and replied;

“Yup. Sure, fucking did. Hahahaha! #sorrynotsorry!”