This is her story, *****.
Britney stan Tess Barker was bound and determined to soak up every aspect of Britney Day last Wednesday. She went as far as to get a fake ID with the name “Britney Murphy” (the ID expires on 4-20, nice touch) just to get a moment with the Queen at the event – the first 100 people named Britney (any spelling) were promised tickets to the High Roller with a photo-op with the Queen herself, and pair of tix to her Piece Of Me show that night.
Her ID scam worked, and the journey began – she published a brilliant piece on Vice.com about her Britney Day shenanigans.
“She put a pink wristband on me, marked my hand with a “B,” and handed me two tickets and a T-shirt that read ‘Hello: My Name Is Britney.’ Oh. My. God. I had ******* pulled it off. I was a Britney on Britney Day. My entire life had been building to this moment.”
When Tess realized the event wasn’t going as planned – basic ******* not named Britney were given as much access as she was – things started to take a (hilarious) turn.
“Two attractive gay men in expensive sunglasses faced the stage in front of me. Ugh. These frauds. Some of us had bought a fake ID for this.”
When they announced: “Right now, Britney is going to take a ride in the LINQ High Roller with all of the Britneys that we can fit in one of those,” Tess, I mean Britney Murphy BOOKED it – this was her chance to be with Britney. THE Britney. Britney Spears!
“We rushed into the pod like ravenous hogs, and she made eye contact with nary a single Britney. With expert precision, she flashed a smile and posed for the millisecond it would take to get a promo shot with us, and then hauled *** out of there before any of us could process what had just happened. We, the Britneys, should have known better than this. She’s expressed in multiple documentaries that she is ‘shy’ and ‘just wants to be able to walk around the mall.’ We’ve watched her, since the beginning of the K-Fed dynasty, make attempt after attempt to sleep her way to the bottom. Britney Spears hates being famous. She wants out, but as she’s gotten older, she’s resigned herself to the fact that there’s no escaping. She’s been Miss American Dream since she was 17, so she sates us with the smallest possible piece of her. This is why we love her unconditionally, why we root for her, why we defend her at all costs. This is also the ouroboros that keeps the Britney machine running: The more of a reluctant superstar she is, the more we love her, which makes her more reluctant, which makes us love her more.
Tess and the other Britneys in the pod were left slightly disheveled, dismayed, but not shocked. Britney Spears was not taking a ride for 45 minutes with her fellow Britneys. Afterall, she has a show to get ready for #YouBettaWork.
Tess attended Piece Of Me that night – in the General Admission section even, realizing Britney Spears is kind of exactly who she thought she was.
“I didn’t know if Britney was just like us, or if we were just like Britney. We had been feeding off one another for so long, each wanting to be the other so badly since adolescence: Britney and the Britneys.”