Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me by Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler

Author:Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler & Chelsea Handler [Handler, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781455504657
Publisher: Borderline Amazing/A Chelsea Handler Book

The day I got to the Bahamas.

“Jesus, Amber, put some fucking lotion on your feet,” Chelsea said.

“Take it easy. I just got here.”

Before I knew it, she was out of the pool, grabbing her Bath and Body Works lotion, and attacking my feet, rubbing lotion all over my toes, in my nail bed, up my leg. Lots of it. Two coats. I’m not going to lie: it felt good. Would you come all lubed up if you knew you were going to get a rubdown every time Chelsea saw you? I’m no dummy.

“It’s just dry skin,” I said. “I’ve been traveling for hours.”

“It’s disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Then she grabbed my hands and lathered them up as well.

My dry skin is the one thing about me that drives Chelsea crazy. Well, that and the fact that I’m always late to everything and she’s always early and waiting on me.

Our first night in the Bahamas we had sushi for dinner, because why should we do anything different from what we do every night in Los Angeles? Everyone was pretty tired from traveling. Everyone but Chelsea, who tried to keep the party going. Zoughi and I wanted to go to bed. We hadn’t unpacked, which is what I like to do first when I arrive someplace new, and we had been awake for over twenty-four hours. Knowing Chelsea wouldn’t take well to the “I’m tired” excuse, I decided to try her tactic: the Irish good-bye. I would feign interest just until I had enough, then I would abruptly leave without telling anyone and without explaining myself to anyone. Seemed simple enough. It worked like a charm for Chelsea.

Once we finished dinner, we walked out to the casino, where Chelsea and the gang wanted to play blackjack. Zoughi and I proceeded to the tables with everyone, and when we realized there was no room to sit at the blackjack table that Chelsea had chosen, we headed straight for the elevators. No one saw us. No one cared. It was a perfectly executed plan.

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