Hey girl! How are you?
Okay, I’m not gonna mince words here. When I heard your song “Bitch Better Have My Money,” I loved it. So catchy! Then I listened to the song another eighty times and I noticed your penchant for repetition on poignant lines, specifically that someone, a bitch perhaps, owes you money. That’s when it struck me. I knew exactly to whom you were referring. I messed up. I owe you. It totally slipped my mind. Honestly! I’m not acting like I forgot and I am certainly not frontin’!
My friends say you wrote it in response to some accounting snafu from a few years back. I don’t believe a word of that. I know you, RiRi. Yeah, I know there’s the line, “Your wife in the backseat of my brand new foreign car,” but I think that’s an allusion to me, right? You let me borrow your Volvo S90 that one night so I could convince my parents I was financially stable. I’ll be honest that the “wife in the car” line tripped me up. But then I remembered our late night run to In-N-Out Burger where I admitted that I would marry my sandwich if the California courts permitted it. You thought I was crazy to buckle up our order in the backseat, but then I proved to you that it wouldn’t spill on your nice car, didn’t I? It’s like I always say: with food, safety first!
Your song alludes to the fact I still owe you money from that night at T.G.I. Friday’s, right? That’s when we last hung out. There’s a line in your song, “Louis XIII and it’s all on me.” We were drinking and we played which monarch from the House of Bourbon would you bang, right? Oh, the laughs we had! I was low on cash and you said you’d spot my cocktail? I think I ordered a Diddy on the Beach? And then we split those potato skins? Man, that was a great night.
On top of it all, you surprised me with that gift of a sheer tank top that makes my nipples super visible. That was so thoughtful! I guess you overlooked my soul-crushing anxiety about being naked, and how I always had to dart to the two bathroom stalls in the high school girls’ locker room to change for gym. Or maybe you’re trying to get me to face my fears about my body. The tank is lovely, nonetheless. I haven’t worn it to work like you suggested, but I did wear it to my girlfriend’s baby shower and they were speechless. Thanks, girl!
I’m so sorry we haven’t hung out since that drink date. I knew you were getting ready for the Met Gala and requested your next dress to be forged with Valyrian steel and unicorn tears (so cool that those things exist for famous people!). I’ve been busy, too. Most of my energy is going into my new business venture: selling wool scarves from a Scottish sheep farm on Etsy. It’s been my dream ever since I went to grad school and realized how financially fucked I was by earning more degrees in the Humanities instead of just becoming an Accountant. That’s when I wondered: what does everyone need? Scarves! But don’t think I’m here looking for handouts. Really, I’m fine. Please don’t think this is one of those friendships with a non-famous friend who mooches. I have every desire to pay you back in full.
As I remember, I owe you $23.72 correct? I’m writing the check right now!
Then let’s put this behind us. Remember when we first became friends? Back at the Good Girl Gone Bad Tour when I accidentally walked into your trailer looking for a bathroom? You complimented me on the Bedazzled fanny pack I was wearing to keep my money and Chapstick and I explained how my jeweled accessory was a double threat — both fashionable and practical. You told me I was the weirdest, most down-to-earth bitch you ever met, remember? Then you said you needed more real bitches in your life and you invited me to come back again with my Bedazzler. That’s when I knew we would be lasting friends. I hope I am still that real bitch you can trust, Rihanna. Because I value our friendship.
Also, would you like to buy a scarf? They’re authentic Scottish sheep wool. They’d make great stocking stuffers for the holidays. Just a thought.