Betch Goes New York
11:04 am I’m on my first leg of my journey to the betchiest city in the world, New York City. Unsurprisingly, it took me like twenty minutes to make it through security because of all of the jewelry I have plastering my body. I was there long enough to make friends with the TSA agent, Nils, who kindly helped me shove my three suitcases and oversized Louis Vuitton handbag into the scanner thing. After that ordeal, I thoroughly inspected the seating options and decided to sit next to this rough-around-the-edges dilf. Don’t be alarmed…it’s not like he’s a criminal or anything, but he’s giving off that “i’m not so innocent” vibe, you know? Did I mention he was wearing a preppy quarter-zip, a polo, khakis, and loafers? Mmmmm. Through talking to him, I discovered that he’s a twenty something single father who won custody of his five year old daughter in a heated custody battle. He seems like a bit of a man-betch, which I’m fine with. So, Thomas, I may be seven years younger than you are, but wanna date?
2:15 pm The Detroit Metropolitan Airport: home of Asians with fake Louie’s and rich men with corporate titles. If you don’t truly feel in your element here, there’s something wrong with you…or you’re not a betch. This is the place to buckle up your new, red Christian Louboutins, sling that oversized Louie over your shoulder, and get into betch mode. Good luck to anyone in here who isn’t a true betch. I wish you all the best as you’re continually trampled by foreigners and moms who walk their children on leashes.
3:30 pm I’m pretty sure no one ever says “Oh, yay! I get to sit next to an obese man with a bucket of fried chicken on this flight!” There’s a reason for that, and that reason is because they are the most disgusting human beings on earth. Excuse me sir, I don’t know if you didn’t get the memo or what, but it’s not socially acceptable to have a belly equivalent in size to the circumference of the earth, or grease stains splattered across your Walmart-bought polo. If you ever have to sit next to someone of the caliber of disgustingness I just described, please up the quantity of betchyness flowing through your brain and stay calm (even though you may be worried about your Louboutins being ruined by fried chicken grease).
xoxo, Steph
