TRACEY BENDINGER | Culture | Contact
Ellen Sobrata has woken this morning with more than just an alcoholic hangover.
She’s also experiencing sharp pangs of anxiety brought on by the fact that she gave her phone number to a complete stranger she met at a trendy Betootan rooftop bar.
Ellen was reminded of the number exchange as she scrolled through her messages and saw an ‘X’ at the end of a message to a boy she didn’t recognise.
“I look forward to a plutonic catch-up X” read the message she sent to someone by the name of Rhylie Louboski.
Upon reading this Ellen immediately deleted the message, desperately trying to erase from her mind whatever fragmented memory was swirling around in there.
The Advocate reached out to Ellen to see how she’s feeling about the whole encounter and whether or not the shame of her drunken message to Rhylie had been disposed of or not.
“Mmm no, it definitely hasn’t.”
“Yuck, just the thought of it gives me shivers, who the fuck was Rhylie?”
“And why was I having a plutonic catch up with him?”
“There are so many questions I need answered but at the same time definitely don’t want answered.”
“I think I might just try to bury this one with the slut dropping incident at my work party.”
As our reporter was leaving the interviewees apartment she noticed two food delivery men walking towards Ellen’s apartment, a clear sign that she’s trying to drown out her anxiety with food.
More to come.
