It's so fun being the drunk girl

[It’s so fun] being the drunk girl By Brittany O’Keefe

She drives through the week
in her new old Chrysler 200
and stops for the end, when
she has nowhere to be and no one

looking for her

Saturday, the drunk girl must be out
at the bar where everyone dances
so close it isn’t clear who’s a lover
and who’s a stranger because Friday, she ate                      and watched

The Twilight Zone.

The          girl

in the room with empty walls, takes the last sip
of the bottle from the back of her fridge. A clump
of bright bikini tops and old new jeans never worn become

the potholes she’ll prance over later. She clasps
the chain around her neck and wonders
who will see her.

She gets in an unfamiliar car for the last time, shimmying her body

to her co-worker’s even more unfamiliar rap music. How many

roommates do you have? Her coworker asks. She turns
up the dial so her coworker thinks she likes it, so

her co-worker doesn’t notice the shake in her voice.

The drunk girl is only a little tipsy

when they pull up to the parking garage, stirring
with other drunk girls holding their free-flowing chests, racing

against the January wind they all seem to be
going towards the same door. They all brought
weapons and friends of their own, friends

they’ve known for years, probably

The tipsy girl

gulps her blue drink
sticking the straw between her teeth when she feels awkward or
aware

The drunk girl is really good at

Dancing with men she doesn’t know

Kissing men she doesn’t know
Kissing when she doesn’t know how

else to entertain her lips, knowing
they want nothing more than her hips but

for the first time

The            girl is finally

just as good
as the other            girls, some
thing to be desired amongst the desirable, practically

free of fear and doubt every
thing is good when she’s dancing

The drunk girl waits

for an Uber, holding herself outside
the empty bar, watching
the other drunk girls huddling like penguins

the piercing air numb against her
blushing skin. At some point, she makes it

into the back of an unfamiliar car

She greets the person in the driver’s seat with a smile. Buckled into
the leather or upholstered bench, she asks them where they’re from and

how they like the job andisn’t it crazy that we can order transportation at the click of a button?
They respond.
She makes it to the apartment, saying goodbye and
thank you so much and have a great night. Up the concrete steps and through
the main door, then up the stairs with the tired carpet to the first door on the right.

She only fumbles with the key for a moment before stumbling in to

the quiet walls, she rejoices in her sex appeal
before stripping of her chain and costume
tripping over the potholes and tottering into bed.

Sunday, the drunk girl must be in

to clean up the mess

But for the first time, she sleeps.