Celebrity Dream Date: Justin Bieber
The following was originally posted on Ology.com, way back in the yesteryears of 2012.
Now that Justin Bieber has turned 18 I am legally allowed to date him. This is fantastic news because my cell phone bill is due and I would also like some tips on hair conditioning. Also full disclosure, I had a dream once that I was actually on a date with Justin Bieber. This may or may not be taken as inspiration.
5:00pm: I get a text from Justin, "cant wait 4 2nite ;-)" Usually I detest people who abbreviate and use emoticons. But hey, beggars can't be choosers. Justin will mark the first in a long dry spell, plus I hear he's anxious for a rebound after that messy break up with Selena Gomez. They say she'll never wake up out of the coma.
5:15pm: After a debate with my girlfriend about what to text back I settle on "I know. Trying to figure out what to wear...;-)" She thinks that this is the best choice, while I wish I wrote some dirty joke or nothing at all.
6:15pm: I realize my rogue Scottish mustache has started to form without my knowledge. I try to take it off with those wax strips but some of the wax sticks to my face and leaves my upper lip red. I hope there won't be too many paparazzi. Maybe I can just layer my foundation just so...
7:30pm: Justin is a little late (although who picks a 7:15 pick up time?) so I'm anxiously drinking martinis that I made. Heavy hand on the vodka. I need to eat something, considering I haven't eaten in three days for preparation. This does not bode well.
8:00pm: Justin's bodyguard rings my doorbell and beckons me to join Biebs in the Escalade. He opens the door and Justin just casually leans over with that million dollar smile and hands me some flowers. They look so expensive they're probably extinct. I am SO getting the lobster tonight.
8:15pm: I'm a little disappointed that we're not going to The Ivy because I've never been, but Justin announces that we're going to Spago, which apparently is the old Cut. I worry that Justin wants to take me to a lesser place because I'm wearing tights that I bought at the Walgreens.
8:30pm: Holy sh*t balls there are a lot of paparazzi here. We circle the block and I feel like I'm going to have a legit panic attack. Justin just shrugs and unintentionally (intentionally) brushes his hand against my thigh.
8:32pm: We don't have a reservation but that doesn't matter. We walk right in. We could essentially crap on the floor and Wolfgang Puck would shake his hand.
8:35pm: I order some champagne but since he can't drink yet he orders a coke. He looks a little upset about it until I reach in to my purse and pull out some airplane size liquor bottles. He is over the moon about this and sneaks it into his soda, no one the wiser. I'm pretty good at fooling these paparazzi folks.
8:45pm: Over our complimentary oysters, Justin asks me about my life and actually seems genuinely interested, which is nice. He doesn't always get my sarcasm which a little difficult. Now I have to pretend that I'm an expert ventriloquist for the rest of our relationship.
9:15pm: He gets really uncomfortable when I start talking about my favorite books. Wait, he can read right? He has to. What's the public school like in Canada?
9:30pm: Our chemistry comes back when he both giggle uncontrollably over the word "wiener schnitzel." I order my fourth (Fourth.) glass of champagne.
9:41pm: Things start to get sexual, but in a weird way. Like he feeds me a bite of his Cantoneze duck but the lo mien noodle falls onto my cleavage. With no sexual instigation I pick it up and eat it (because I'm a slob, that's why). He seems really turned on and makes a noise that I will forever hear in my nightmares.
10:24pm: We leave the restaurant and the paps have seemed to multiplied ten fold. I'm definitely working on a food baby and fear that after all that top shelf I may fall down. Justin grabs my hand and I feel a blanket of comfort. Nothing can hurt me now.
10:25pm: Except things can hurt me when I go to step into the Escalade and I twist my ankle on the step. I kind of eat it and the scores of paps go "OOOOHHHHH!" in a really dreadful and condescending way. Justin scoops me up and puts me in the car, but also doesn't say anything about the fact that my ass is hanging out of my skirt. I don't know whether that's flattering or not.
11:00pm: We roll up to somebody's house...Spike or Cage or Sparks or something weird. Justin makes the driver get out of the car before he turns to me and just starts making out with me. Just like that. No talking, straight to the point. That's fine I guess. I can takes
those liquor bottles on his breath and start to get really into it. There's some fondling involved, but its more just like to people mashing into each other. Pure romance.
11:20pm: I try to ignore the fact that I may have inadvertently felt his boner on my thigh mere moments ago when I step into the party. There aren't as many people there as I would have assumed but they all are very nice, at least to my face. Justin calls for some Red Bull and it magically appears. I hate the taste of Red Bull but don't want to ruin my image. This chick sits down next to me, another flanking Justin. They laugh and make jokes. Hey, maybe L.A. isn't so bad. They offer me a breath mint which I eagerly take. Red Bull makes your breath smell like ass.
11:25pm: I may have just taken some ecstasy.
11:48pm: YUP I DEFINITELY JUST TOOK SOME ECSTACY.
Midnight: Rolling my balls off right now, Justin is the best. This party is the best. I don't even know if he took some but we're dancing and everyone is my friend and his EYES ARE JUST SO BEAUTIFUL. Ugh, I'm gonna make love to his recently legal body with such a glorious fury.
1:30am: Time has pretty lost all meaning, but Justin holds me close and tells me, "Baby, I had a great time with you tonight." I lean in, in the sexiest way possible and whisper "I have to pee." OK so maybe that wasn't so sexy but my goal was to say "I'm going to freshen up." I wink anyway and I think he gets it.
1:32am: In the bathroom thinking about how much I lucked out. Sure, we don't have everything in common, but The Biebs is a really nice guy and I'm having so much fun tonight. I wonder if my friends would like him. He's not as nerdy as they say. Right as I'm pontificating on our future one of the girls that gave me the X busts in.
...she's clutching her mouth in a curious lurching way...suddenly I realize that she's about to spew chunks. And I just got this outfit dry cleaned...
...Whatever she ate (most likely Italian) ends up on half of my body. The kind of puke that you would rather scrape off with a brillo pad. Toilet paper is no use. The girl starts to laugh and sob. I resist all urge to punch her in her stupid face.
1:35am: It's decision making time, do I do the best I can to clean off the vom or do I hide in the bathroom til this blows over? God help me if I use the guest towels, my mother would be appalled. I definitely can't talk to Justin Bieber covered in vomit.
1:40am: Just as I'm about to jimmy the window I hear a commotion. I turn to see basically the whole party staring at me. There's a pause and I lock eyes with Justin in horror. Suddenly, everyone starts laughing, Justin the hardest. He laughs until tears roll down his eyes. I force out a laugh to, but inside I want to die right then and there.
1:45am: Justin walks me outside to the car. The driver puts down a towel. I try to make a few jokes but I lost it. I'm still rolling but there's a lot of confusing feelings happening. I get in the car with the help of Justin. I wait for him to get in to, but he doesn't. He is very sweet in saying "I had a good night" but I know he's tired of me already. What was I to expect really? He turns up back to the party, a gaggle of non-vomitridden, skinnier girls waiting for him.
2:00am: Finally home. The driver asks for my number, I give it to him. Why not.
The next morning I see my face on the internet. Thankfully it's not a puke picture, but it is the photo of me walking out of the restaurant, tights ripped and ass hanging out. Worst of all, you can most definitely see my mustache.