““Who the f**k is this bitch?” Err, what? It takes my mind a second to register what the f**k that bitch just screamed. Detangling my hands from Greg’s messy brown locks, I turn on wobbly legs and face the person behind the annoying screech. “What the hell did you just call me?” Seething is a good word to describe the way I am feeling in this exact moment. Greg has effectively wound me tight, and then forgot to press release. Lucky or unlucky, depends on which side of the coin you’re on. This bitch is going to be the perfect person to help with that. “Does that belong to you?” I ask Greg. He looks pissed, but not ashamed. Interesting. “Excuse me, Greg. Is this shit yours?” I ask again, pointing my finger at the malnourished bimbo in front of me.””
