Has Anyone Seen My Pants? Read Online Free PDF Page B

dying before Jackie got there would be totally rude.
    I spent the next morning inhaling room-service pancakes and soaking up some sun at the beach awaiting Jackie’s arrival. I was halfway through a strawberry margarita when she texted me that she was en route to the hotel. I went back up to order some chips and salsa and two Coronas, wanting Jackie to have the same arrival experience that I had. When I got to the room, I was pleasantly surprised to find the aforementioned items already waiting for us. Apparently this was a daily service. Nice touch, I thought. Then I said a silent thank-you that today they didn’t just leave one Corona—that might have sent me over the edge.
    “This place is amazing!” Jackie yelped. As soon as she’d arrived, we jumped into the infinity pool to drink our Coronas and talk about how awesome this resort was.
    “I know! Sooooo, did you get grilled by your driver about why you were alone?” I laughed.
    “No. Why?” she responded.
    “Really? Ugh. My driver asked me like a zillion questions about why I was alone and then when I said you were coming in today he just assumed we were lesbians.”
    “You wish,” Jackie laughed.
    “Ew. No I don’t. I don’t have any interest in being a lesbian. Vaginas are so weird looking.”
    “Maybe yours is, but mine isn’t!” Jackie replied.
    “That’s not true, everyone’s is!”
    “How do you know?”
    “I’ve seen other ones on the Internet.”
    Jackie laughed. “You have to just stop people from asking too many questions. The driver asked me why I was alone and I said I was engaged and meeting friends for a girls’ trip before I get married. He didn’t ask me any more questions.”
    “But you haven’t even set the wedding date yet! You lied.”
    “Yeah, but I also didn’t flip out on a waiter last night. Sometimes a white lie keeps things running smoothly,” she explained.
    “This doesn’t mean I have to walk around with a crown of dicks on my head all weekend, does it?”
    “No, if anyone would have to, it would be me. I’m the bachelorette, dumbass.”
    “Okay, good.”
    We polished off our Coronas, then headed down to the pool. I immediately found the guy I’d talked to the day before and he escorted us to two nice lounge chairs with an umbrella.
    “Margarita, rocks, no salt?” he asked me.
    “Sí, gracias!”
    “I’ll have the same,” Jackie interjected. “I see you’ve already made your presence known at the bar,” she continued as he walked away.
    “Always.”
    Jackie and I spent the day wandering back and forth between the pool and the ocean, margaritas in tow. The drunker we got, the funnier my story from the previous evening became until we were just drunkenly yelling, “Only UNO ?” at each other while I posed for Instagram photos in my bikini.
    “No, not that one. You have to take it at an angle from above; that’s what makes you look skinniest,” I scolded her as I went through the last batch of photos she had taken of me. “Go stand on that rock and take another one.”
    “Jesus, this is a lot of work. I didn’t know you cared so much about how you look in a stupid photo,” she said in an accusatory tone.
    “I’m single, Jackie. It matters how I look in the photos that I post on Instagram. I have a few possible suitors following me.”
    As much as I love my friends who are in relationships, sometimes I feel like they forget what it’s like out there. And now with social media? We’re all screwed.
    After settling on a good photo, I told Jackie to get in the water so I could take a bikini picture of her to send to her fiancé, Brandon. We basically had a full-on photo shoot by the sea.
    “Oh, that one is okay but I look really pale,” Jackie noted as she scrolled through her options. “I can’t send him that.”
    Ah, people who are in relationships are human, too! I thought happily.
    “Don’t worry, I’ll put a nice filter on it—boom! You’re tan!”
    Jackie smiled proudly and