Please lower your volume and that finger from my face, sweetheart, because there is something you need to know: I did not come here for drama. I will shout this from the rooftops if I have to: There is not a cell in my body that woke up this morning and said, “Huh, I would just love to have my avocado toast and acai smoothie with a side of drama.” I’m not here for it, honey. So, look me in the eye with some of this intense eye contact I’m forcing your way because I am about to school you in 11, clear-as-day ways that you can write home and tell your mama I DID NOT COME HERE FOR DRAMA.
1. I am telling you that I did not come here for drama.
2. I am speaking very calmly with my chin up, my jaw tight and my eyes squinting as if I can’t quite make out your face because it disgusts me so much.
3. I am holding a glass of Champagne in one hand and a skinny margarita in the other disguised ingeniously as a regular glass of water.
4. My long-term boyfriend who won’t marry me is intermittently checking in on our conversation to make sure I don’t embarrass him and his entire Kennedy-adjacent family by throwing said glass of Champagne in your face.
5. My current ride-or-die best friend who was my mortal enemy last season for pulling out my extensions at the Meh Gala (the hilarious charity event that takes place simultaneously across the street from Anna Wintour’s shindig) is whispering in my ear, “You didn’t come here for drama. Walk away,” while I nod along weighing the pros and cons of throwing said Champagne in your face. (Pro: You’ll be covered in liquid and your night will be slightly disrupted. Con: It will come off as “dramatic.”)
6. I am asking you kindly to step into another room so that we can discuss this like civilized women and not upset Geneva at her vaginal rejuvenation party she’s been planning all year. If I am anything, I am someone who would never bring drama to Geneva’s vaginal rejuvenation party. Never.
7. I am loudly but controllably reading aloud the robust quote you gave Page Six about how my “‘condo’ is actually a senior living facility suite [I] sublet from an over-trusting 95-year-old blind woman anytime [I] want to film in [my] ‘home,’” which is complete and utter HORSESH*T!
8. Yes, I am yelling now and throwing said Champagne against the wall, but if I wanted to be dramatic, honey, I would throw it at your head, let’s be honest.
9. Would I be ripping my mic pack off and pleading with the crew to “let me be!” if I wanted drama? Is that what someone who thrives on drama does? Huh? Huh?!?!?!
10. I’m sorry, but last time I checked, swiftly walking ten feet behind you for three blocks and following you into the parking lot is not considered “dramatic”! It’s simply the logistical result of you ignoring me while I’m trying to talk to you—No! No! Don’t you get in your car and out of this monologue and slam that door in my face—
11. Now, if I were here for drama, love, would I drop the act, look at the producer with my dead eyes and ask blankly, “We get the shot?”