By Geisha Bar

I swear I meant to behave. My study books were laid out on the table. I had my phone on vibrate (and no, not in my lap). I had a skype catch up booked with my mother.
Then the buzzing started.

~ Chick where u at ~
~ Get yo a$$ to Geisha grrl. Stop bein a MIAOW ~
~ Bratika come party ~

Bratika. Wow. That’s me.
Then I’m throwing on a dress and sweet perfume. Texting mother to postpone, because “I was in the uber motivated zone”. Trip tripping out of the apartment in heels. Zipping past quiet Sunday night streets, beemer growling with jazzy bass.
Saunter into the club. That vibe! Intoxicating. Sexy tech, darling deep house, pretty samples playing havoc with self-imposed curfew. Vodka cocktails and cheeky conversations making us all laugh. Flirting with cute boys. Avoiding the photographer – I can’t have incriminating evidence on Facebook – mother would kill me! A crossfit friend who’s currently behaving offering to drive me and my beemer home – “only if we can take the long way, stretch her legs, see what she’s got under the hood”. Hoped he meant the car (although he does sport an 8 pack!).
Woke up alone in bed in my dress. I looked like a porcupine on a three day bender. Essay deadline blinking accusingly on the phone. Discovered a bottle of Dom rolling around the floor of the car. Still don’t know where that came from.
Leopards don’t change their spots. This kitty Bratika is here to stay!