Hm. I wonder what you’re doing right now.
Okay so you’re probably asleep. I’m here, awake, looking at my outstanding balance(s) and writing this little email to you, juuuust in case I need to send it in the morning. After all, we did have a deal, right? Anyway. Maybe I’ll just be nice and send you a little gchat message, a small reminder of what you fucking owe me.
But it’s 3AM my time and 6AM your time and like…damn what time would it be for her? Your new girlfriend, or whatever she is to you nowawadays. Your long distance girlfriend. She’s probably in Japan by now, right? Whatever. Carmen Sandi-motherfuckin’-ego, isn’t she? Ha. Yeah right! Carmen at least had some mystery, some allure!
What does *she* have, your long distance girlfriend, miss study abroad, miss blonde with ~fun hair chalk~? Grow up, that’s what I say. Only kids on the playground put chalk in their hair and think it’s cool. Oh, she wants to go find herself? Good, because guess who already found her damn self before it was cool: Carmen Sandiego. You know who looked for her? EVERYONE. You know who will look for your loooong distance girlfriend? No one besides your dumb ass. So good luck with being the only one playing that computer game, I’ll be over here, wearing red and being brunette and mysterious and shady as hell. Kind of like another woman who men chased after for years! Ha! Eat it.
But honestly, aside from that, I do wonder how you’re doing and I feel like if I just send something short and sweet, we can have a chat. A gchat, if you will.
Gchat is chill, right? It’s not an aggressive text or a lofty Facebook message or a publicly thirsty tweet. This is just like, sending a postcard: “hey, the weather where I am is so pleasant. How is your weather? Write me back, all love, (or don’t! It doesn’t matter! I travel so much, I just picked this up! I’m busy!), ~ me. Yes. The gchat is the postcard of the modern age. Nice. I should tweet that thought.
Okay I tweeted it. Weird. No favs in the past twenty minutes. Yeah, it’s been twenty minutes. I grabbed another beer and microwaved some Trader Joe’s gyoza. Do you have Trader Joe’s where you are? Oh LOL of coooourse you do because you live in New York City, because yoooooou work in finance! Finance. You sad Wolf of Wall Street posers. Whatever. You never respected what I’m trying to do as an actress anyway. I am living my truth here, and you are there, living a money-based LIE. A lie! A lie that pays off your loans, that could’ve paid off my loans, but a LIE nonetheless.
About that gchat.
I feel like maybe you and I are both kind of lonely rn, given that I just came back from study abroad. What! I never said that I was perfect! Why do you think I started seeing you anyway? To pay for that godforsaken semester in Spain. Yeah, you know what, why even front like you weren’t just my meal ticket? You were. You were just a meal ticket, that is all you were.
And I am still more Carmen Sandiego than I am ‘Eat Pray Love,’ like that new 20-something undergrad you’re pining after, fuck you, Tanner. Yeah, I said your name here, right here Tanner. I am currently typing ‘Tanner’ into my gchat contacts list and oh what do you know there you are cool I will just-
My feeling here is to just be honest and say like, “hey, how are you? I thought of you today.” Would that be cool? Would it be cool if like, I don’t know, say, you were PAYING FOR MY LIFE AND THEN I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU LEFT ME FOR A COLLEGE STUDENT?! WOULD THAT BE COOL, TANNER?! WOULD IT?!
My cursor is in the gchat box, bitch.
Maybe I will be like, “hey how is your girlfriend is she in Japan yet haha damn sorry”
So why don’t you send me $5 for every text you sent me BEGGING FOR NUDES in the past SIX MONTHS, Tanner? LOL. Jk.
But seriously. I’m just gonna send this email and laaaay it out, because after all, we had a deal. You bought me things and kept me happy, right? I kept you happy, didn’t I? So how about I keep you happy and you keep me happy, hm?
I guess what I am saying is like, I have a lot of pictures of your dick, Tanner. You want to be successful, don’t you Tanner? So how about you send me $1 for every dick pic you ever sent me, how about that? You Venmo me those dick pic dollars, and I don’t send your dick pics to every single employee and higher-up at Goldman Sachs.
What, you thought you were my only east coast sugar daddy?
Who’s the finance bro NOW, TANNER?!