Chicago, IL – As the sun began to rise over a decadent Bridgeport house party Saturday morning, local server Dylan Christensen reported tremendous certainty that he in fact only needs one more bump. “I have a bit of a drive back to Ukrainian Village,” Christensen relayed. “And I don’t have to start the brunch shift for another four hours. So if I just get one more bump I’ll totally be able to drive home, sleep for three hours, and go to work. It’s the only rational plan.”
Christensen, whom guests reported had been consuming copious amounts of other people’s whiskey and cocaine for the previous 11 hours, was adamant that one last line of blow would undoubtedly nullify his drunkenness rendering him “functionally sober” for the ride home. “I know I said the last one was my last one,” he explained. “But I hadn’t considered what time it was or how Cindy’s story about her cat’s fibromyalgia would make me feel. I’m just really bummed out now. But one more bump and I think I’ll be fine.”
Party host Raina Helu expressed skepticism in regard to the proposition that additional cocaine would be helpful to Mr. Christensen in any capacity: “I tried to fuck him after the last party and… uh… let me put it this way: Lines were the only thing he was making ‘straight’ that night.”
