EFFIE BATEMAN | BRISBANE| CONTACT
As local woman Vanessa Reynolds downs the last of her bubbly, she begins to briefly entertain the idea of firing off some messages.
In her sober state, Vanessa tended to err on the side of caution, choosing instead to play it safe and allow the guy to make the first move.
This was due to the fact she’d never built up resolve, and could easily fall into a deep, dark pit of depression at even the smallest semblance of rejection – such as someone not answering because it’s 1:40 in the morning because they’re in bed.
But drunken Vanessa theorises that she’s got nothing to lose sending Brad a thirsty text.
Nothing except her dignity of course.
She should have put her phone away as soon as she got onto the wines because she knows there’s nothing that brings out her inner hoe quite like a glass of bubbly.
“Heyyyyyyyy.”
“Whatcha doiing??”
“Want to meet up? 🤪
Putting her phone face down on her lap but knowing full well she’ll be looking at it every five minutes, the small, logical part of Vanessa’s brain cautions that she is not in a state to have a coherent conversation. A voice that’s getting louder the longer it takes Brad to reply.
Pausing just as she’s about to message her current whereabouts as a followup to his silence, Vanessa’s voice of reason kicks in and gently coaxes her to call it quits and delete all traces of desperate dms for the sake of her future sober self.
More to come.
