My boyfriend went to Mexico with two friends for a getaway. I surprised him by picking him up at the airport, and I'll be damned if he didn't get off the plane with a new wife, both of them smiling and pulling the expensive luggage I bought him for Christmas! He says he now realizes his mistake and promises to get an annulment and marry me. Should I give him another chance?—Missed Being Mrs.
Missed My Mexican Marigold:
It's the words "pulling the luggage I bought him" that kill me. Refrain from giving him anything except the bill for the L. Vuitton and an ebullient “Adios, Asshole!” (2007, “Ask E. Jean,” which I found last night on the floor, after my cat, Vagina T. Fireball, knocked over a 4-foot stack of elderly Elles. And by the by, all those dewy young models in the pages of those old Elles are OUR age now! Ha!)
Yeeeee gawds, my darlings!
Let’s celebrate the exuberance of our “So longs!” Let’s sing of our shameless joy in yelling “Screw you!”
So……
What’s your most brilliant break-up?
Was it from a dickwad? Or a job? Or five pounds of flab? Or a bad habit? Or a hideous project? We’d all lurve to hear about it!
I woke up one morning over 6 years ago , only slightly hungover by my standards, and called my brilliant, beautiful girlfriend. "Hi, honey, Happy Birthday! We can do whatever you want, you name it, don't worry about cost or anything, it's your birthday!" She started to cry and said "It was yesterday, asshole." I realized I had lost an entire day drinking, not for the first or twentieth time. She broke up with me. I broke up with booze. To make it a bigger, more elaborate stunt, after a lifelong habit I let beer and vodka spend the first couple nights of our separation in my fridge. I didn't touch them, they didn't crawl into bed with me and I eventually found a deserving home for them. People in the Detroit bar scene were incredulous and skeptical. They said "You really quit?" And I said, "No, I retired so I'll be eligible for the Hall of Fame in five years." I'm patiently awaiting my plaque.
My wife and I were separated, but she called and asked me for a ride to the photography studio where she had been "taking lessons." I dropped her off and later went to pick her up. No one was at the counter, so I called out. No answer. I walked to the back of the place where I found a staircase leading into a dark basement. I called again. No answer. I walked down the stairs into blackness, my arms stretched out in front of me to fend off obstacles. I heard breathing and moved toward it. My hands hit two people's shoulders. I recognized her perfume. As I turned to leave, she said, "Can you take me home?"
Monumental breakup? hmmmm. Well, the one that I think is the dooziest (is that a word even?) was when I was working. Tiny little hospital in a rural town (24 beds TOTAL-they didn't even deliver babies unless the mom showed up with the kid crowning. Still don't some 40 years later. Rural healthcare leaves a lot to be desired.) The boss I had when I went to work there had moved on. His replacement was a short, stocky, woman who was supposedly the holder of two master's degrees and about 30 years of experience. Now what she wanted with that teeny little place out in the sticks should have been a red flag to the HR person, but they hired her.
First thing she did was schedule me to second shift which I hated. I was the only person on the staff who lived 45 miles away and she knew it. But I was also the only other person who could perform a particular procedure so she had me. Plus she scheduled me for extra call hours. Then she started calling my home at 7:30, 8:00, 9:00 in the morning when I was sleeping and telling my mother that I needed to get down there for "mandatory staff meetings." Thank God for caller ID. I told my mom to stop answering the phone and to unplug the answering machine.
After about a year of this, and I documented every bit of it, she made a mistake. She documented Quality Control on a very sensitive piece of equipment in the name of another staff member. I called that person and verified that she had not been in the building. Then I went and copied her time card, and the records, and hid them both where I knew she'd never find them. That night, they passed out the paychecks. I got a piece of paper and left a note on her desk-I RESIGN IMMEDIATELY. And walked out.
Then turned around and sued the place for professional, emotional, and sexual harassment-and won. Oh, and by the way, I called the appropriate government agency and notified them of what she had done and told them where to find the evidence. They pulled her license two weeks later.
Feb 18, 2022·edited Feb 18, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
After I graduated from Business School, I went to work as a Consultant with a Big Five firm. I should have known that it was a Boys' Club when, during the interview process, one of the Partners told me that I could not take breaks mid-week to "get my hair fixed". WTF? Then when I started working there, I was told that only 5% of all Partners at the time were female. It was implied that we couldn't "take it". So, in my 26-month tenure there, I was on the road for 24 months 5 days per week. I thought I would show them. Then, I was told I would be promoted, but would probably would never make Partner because I wore patterned pantyhose with seams and, by association, was too provocative. I resigned from that firm and went to a Big Five competing consulting firm.
Once there, I soon learned that the Partner in Charge (married) was sleeping with an Associate who was promoted unusually quickly, Additionally, he habitually imbibed in 2-martini lunches. I went out to one of these said lunches and was invited to have cocaine in the alley with a bunch of my supervisors. I declined because I do not put things in my nose in professional situations. One night, I was out with clients and one asked why I was not a Partner, since my credentials were better than many higher ups. My supervisor who was a bit in his cups stated: "Oh she should be, but she is such a chick."
A couple of weeks later, I was talking to one of my most talented Associates (Female, Latina) and we decided we would never be promoted no matter how much business we brought in or how many billable hours or all-nighters we sacrificed. The secret was being a guy; or, sleeping and/or snorting up with one. This was a theme we bitched about for weeks, until we realized that, because we were female and no one took us seriously, we probably had no enforceable non-solicitation agreements. Soon, after getting legal advice, the two of us vowed to sell some projects and do consulting better, faster, and cheaper than the sniffers and snorters. So, we marched into our boss' office and said: "We chicks (and chicas) are blowing this Popsicle Stand. We plan to open our own firm ASAP. And, we will be poaching our clients. Have a lovely day."
We were quickly escorted, i.e. hustled, out of the building by security. But, after 35 years of founding companies, I certainly have never looked back...
Well....I am ashamed to admit it that it took me almost 10 years to finally say I'd had enough of the lies (not married, married but divorcing, can't leave wife), suicide threats, "I'll-take-all-the-money-if-you-stop-sleeping-with-me threats," and me doing all the work while he took half the profits to say adios to this narcissistic turkey butt, dickweed, horse's ass, but when I did it was a doozy.
He had just informed me that he was too old to get a "real" job but I would have to find some contract work - in addition to the 10-hour days I was putting in creating and promoting the children's media property he was supposedly finding a buyer for - AND I would have to give him half of what I earned.
Something inside me snapped. We were on a Facetime call at the time. My mouth hung open for a couple of second before I was able to say, "You know I think you have finally made me hate you." And I threw the iPad against the wall (broke it) and never spoke to him again.
I have since learned that he took the money he got from selling his half of our company to his son, bought a new car, and took a road trip with the wife he was supposedly divorcing. Fortunately for me, his son had more integrity than his dad and agreed to dissolve the company and let me keep the IP.
I no longer hate the dickweed - some good therapy helped me see the HUGE lesson he taught me - but I still have moments when I'd like to barge in on his mindfulness meditation classes (he's become a practitioner and teacher) and say, "How do you live with yourself?" Not nice or kind I know, but I have six years of struggling to stay alive fueling my indignation.
My goal is to simply not care anymore. I'm getting there.
Five months after separation, lots of counseling, and a reconciliation, my then husband was watching the 16-monther in the kitchen while I had the 4-yr-old upstairs. I heard a couple of heavy thumps and wailing, and ran for the stairs. Baby had heard me upstairs and tried to come up, and fell. I scooped him up to comfort him and went looking for his father— still in the kitchen at the other end of the house. Not watching baby. I yelled at him to remind him he said he’d watch the baby; he, of course, said it was all my fault and, for good measure, kicked me so hard I had a bruise from my kneecap to where the blood ran down the tissue plane to my inner ankle/heel. Actually, if I hadn’t been holding a baby I would’ve liked to brain him with the first heavy object to hand, so I guess he got off easy there. Counseling had made me a LOT less likely to take shit.
Went to therapist next day (which he stopped seeing singly or with me three months previously, “too busy”). She said she would no longer try to save this marriage.
Next day when I was calmer I told him I was had contacted an atty referred by the therapist about a divorce, and would give him til the first of the month to find somewhere else to live. Just then 4-yr-old comes bounding in asking him to come push the swing. “I can’t do that because your mother is throwing me out of the house.”
“Don’t you EVER say that to them again,” I said. “You don’t want this? Fine, look me in the eye and tell me you love me and this will break your heart.”
Of course he couldn’t do that, and I knew he knew I knew he couldn’t do that, so … “OK, first of the month. You can have the guest room until then.”
First, spot on advice for Ms. Missed, and I would also love to know where she is now.
Second, my best break-up was actually with an agent -- also a woman. The TV studio I was writing for was subjecting me to all sorts of financial disrespect, even though my contract was clear. She was kind of brushing it aside. Wanting her to fight for me -- which was the job I was paying her to do -- I said "Remind them of my contract, and don't back down. I don't bend over for anybody."
She said "Brynne, you're a woman in Hollywood. You not only bend over, you carry the lube in your purse."
Feb 18, 2022·edited Feb 18, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
That 1st para (re schmuckhead back from vacay with a wife and "pulling the luggage I bought him") made me laugh. Your awesome book popped into my head, of course. "What Do We Need Men For?" Haahahaha. xoxo I was startled that the woman was really asking if she should give him another chance. It sounded like that couldn't be real. As reading the Borowitz Report or The Onion. But, I love your response EJ!!
I quit a terrible, abusive job on the spot one Friday, with nothing else lined up. This is *very* out of character for me and sounds like an awful move ... but on the Monday I got a call from a producer looking for story pitches. I ended up making my very first professional TV sales as a result, and have never been out of work since.
But the break up story I'd love to hear is from the woman who wrote the original letter! I'd also love to hear, 15 years later, what this woman is doing now with her much, much better and totally different boyfriend. (And perhaps, out of idle curiosity, maybe an update on which lawyer the new wife used to get a hefty divorce settlement out of the idiot *old* boyfriend. And the location of the Taco Bell drive-thru where he now works.)
I was a company member at a well-known haunted house for a few years (it sounds silly but it was one of the best paid and most creatively fulfilling jobs I've had as an actor). The dude who treated me worse than anyone else I've dated was also a company member, and he's the one who got me involved in the first place. Everyone there adored him (or seemed to) and was oblivious or uncaring about what I was going through with him, and I just felt like the whole company was accidentally - or not - helping him gaslight me. But again. since it was artistically great and it paid, I spent TWO FREAKING YEARS with my letter of resignation e-mail saved in my drafts folder. I agonized over it. But when I finally did it, I felt amazing and have only regretted waiting so long.
A very successful man had been staying at my home when in town (a lot, about 20 days a month) and not contributing anything but elderly vegetables and molding fruit when he arrived for each stay. After one year of this, while cleaning his piss off the toilet before I had to go to my job, (and having never had a fight with him), I full on SNAPPED. "Get your shit out of here! Take your pablum porn, your moldy fruit and bread, your dirty underwear and get the fuck out!" He was stunned, having never seen this side of me in the year together. Now I know why there is an endless supply of women for the show "Snapped".
Feb 18, 2022·edited Feb 18, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
My most brilliant breakup?
Set the scene: I, 18 and Irish-Catholic; he, 38 and Jewish. Met in the•a•tre class in college where he landed the lead in The Glass Menagerie and I got Costume Head.
I decided it was time to cash in my v-card and he would do.
My mother, racist & abusive, hated him.
This was back in the early 80's and he was a punk. He was cold to me and I mistook that for cool. Actually, I know now he just was a poseur and a sanctimonious prick.
Anyway. We dated for a year but he kept an emotional distance.
He and his two roommates threw a Halloween party. (I didn't know that a 38 year old guy shouldn't have been an undergrad and shouldn't have two roommates to prop him up).
Anyway. I show up late, dressed as a geisha. There had been punch with some kind of pharmaceuticals (Amyl Nitrate?) and whippets, but all of this was gone by the time I got there.
Artie ignored me.
I was fed up. I went into the living room where a friend of theirs shouted, "I want Lee!" and broke two television sets, one stacked upon the other. In my innocence, I never knew that David was interested in me.
Anyway. I sat on the couch and started making out with Kelley (Gerald's middle name -- a poet always in existential agony).
Then I slept with him in the next room. He was basically impotent, limp, but it counted in my book.
A few days later, Artie phoned and asked me to come over. He sat in a chair in his darkened room, chainsmoking. Told me he loved me. For the first time.
I scoffed. Said it was too late. And moved on, jaded at 19.
After two months of dating, the guy admits he’s married but on his way to divorce court…Well…he had a significant birthday coming up and I managed to arrange for a yellow rose for each year to be delivered with my card attached. When he got to his home, his wife made things uncomfortable - he called and told me things were tense. I told him if she had been smart, she would have tossed my card out and attached her own. He laughed but things got worse: she called me and we had a chat. We both dropped him…
Left a note breaking up with him in his morning newspaper after hearing from a friend he had taken another woman to a ball. He was trying to turn me into a mistress and I refused to let that happen. He found me a couple of weeks later, volunteering at a charity bazaar. His words - “You left a note in my newspaper.” I replied, “Yes,” and returned to my work. Have always enjoyed the crispness of my ending it.
Feb 19, 2022·edited Feb 19, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
My “best” breakup was with a job. It was a healthcare company under a DOD contract. At the time military veterans had been promised free health care. Well, NOT. Not only was it no longer free, but we were instructed to make appointments for the lowest cost provider regardless of how long these military vets had to wait for an appointment.
Since I come from a family where all the men were veterans from almost every war, and my Dad had won the Silver Star, this went against my moral grain.
I told my boss I didn’t like this. She told me to “take the rest of the day off”. So I did….went home for lunch and never went back
I was young 18 and my 19 year old boyfriend, Brian, had to spent the summer in another state to help on the family farm. We decided to do our own thing while he was away. He ended up needing to stay another year. I started dating an older guy, Steve, and it was fun, he took me to expensive restaurants and bought me nice gifts. Brian came into town on Valentines Day and wanted to surprise me. I had already accepted a date with Steve, who brought me a gift and flowers. I told him mid date that I had an emergency at my “uncle’s” house and asked if he could he drive me there. Of course he did, but it was Brian’s house. In my haste to see him I left the card, flowers, and gift in Steve’s car. After realizing it, he came back to the house and Brian’s brother opened the door for him in which he saw me sitting in Brian’s lap. After Brian left to go back to family farm, I called Steve. A lady answered the phone, when he got on the phone I asked who she was and he answered, “My Aunt”. We both had a laugh and I learned my lesson then and there.
Are you joking? He will do this or something of the sort again and again. That is who he is. There is a sense of entitlement there that takes my breath away. I think everyone on this site should read “Why does he do that?” by Lundy Bancroft. Google it. It is downloadable free in US archives.com
Its a fabulous eye opening read written by a no nonsense man responsible for starting programs that try to straighten out abuse in men….
Abuse is on a spectrum. Lying is a first step. Why is it ok to lie to you in such a gross manner to start with? And then even thinks he should be forgiven?????…He did this because he thought he would get away with it, you caught him and now he is sorry. Period.
He is sorry he got caught nothing else.
Perhaps you give more expensive presents than the new wife can, who knows why he suddenly had a change of heart? Anyone who marries on impulse like that is not « right in the head ». He is a child, a damaged child.
Let me guess, your Xmas present was much more thoughtful and expensive than his?
Anyone with an once of respect for the person they are seing would not even think of doing what he has done. Men mostly behave poorly because they feel that being male permits them to behave terribly, they are mostly correct as they often get away with it.
He does not have respect for you, himself or your relationship.He is a broken perhaps abused puppy that will only bring trouble and difficulties to your life. You have now seen what this man is capable of ….run in the other direction, please. The main reason you are considering taking him back is probably loneliness. Its no fun. You have to distract yourself and get busy online or any other way to meet a healthy sane man.
Feb 19, 2022·edited Feb 19, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
After spending my 20s through mid-40s betrothed, I was thrust into the world of online dating once divorced. The first thing I did was ask my Oby Wan Gynoby what STDs I needed to look out for. You see I was never careful in my younger youth and have a theory that since I never contracted anything as a reckless whore that I was most certainly getting Herpes or Syphilis or something as an adult. Kind of like Final Destination but with STDs. Final Festernation. (Have you HEARD about The Villages in Florida?)
Sure enough she told me to be mindful of Herpes and HPV as there was a near epidemic of middle aged women like me contracting them with the potential of progressing to cervical cancer.
Now that I was armed with knowledge and free to date any kind of man I pleased for any reason at all, I decided that the standards I once had could be shifted a bit. I used to only date black men, and usually they were handsome and fit which is why I was attracted in the first place. Now I was more interested in giving those I might usually overlook a chance to see if there was more going on under the hood. My new rules simply were that we had interesting correspondence. Then a great phone call after numbers were exchanged within a reasonable time frame. Then the fellow asked me on a real date. It's harder than it sounds, but there it is.
The first man I dated more than once was met on Chemistry.com. Match.com's allegedly more serious brother. He was around my age, but rather portly and white. Father of two teenage boys. Whirlwind romance to be sure and he relocated to be closer to me. It was about 6 months in where trouble began. He had been hoping to lose weight after being found too large around the middle to ride a theme park ride and so we began working out together. Are you ready for this?
Soon after I began noticing splotches on his penis. At which point I told him he needed to get that checked out. I refused sex so he agreed. Before he could get to that appointment those splotches turned into scales and began peeling. Turns out that was some kind of fungus and required a topical to treat it. So he gets back from the doctor, slathers up his willie, and shouts with glee, "I'm ready!" And after my response, "Not even a BLOW JOB?!?! You sure have a lot of rules all of a sudden."
I sent him packing with the ointment he rode in on. And that is how I learned that just because a romantic interest lacks outer beauty does not mean they've been working on inner beauty. Online dating is like shopping at Ross. You have to weed through a shit ton of irregulars to find a gem.
After working nine years as a medical / legal translator / interpreter for the Social Security Administration I was burned out. I requested to be sent "on detail" to the executive and management training department of Health and Human Services headquarters in downtown DC hoping that the change of scenery would be helpful. For a year I bathed in the heady excitement of organizing and taking training seminars designed to teach participants to reach their full career potential. My detail was prolonged several times but finally the time came when my supervisor back at the SSA insisted I return. With a heavy heart I returned to my SSA but there was little work for me to do, my boss only wanted me back because if I stayed away too long, the number of people he supervised would be reduced. The days dragged on, (this was pre-internet times) I sat at my desk and read books, magazines, my boss drew the line when I showed up one day with my knitting! I was so depressed I took a week off from work. A friend asked me if I wanted to go with her to volunteer that week at the NGO where she worked. Rather than moping around the house, I agreed. I found myself busy and appreciated so much that they offered me a paid position, albeit at a lower salary than my government job. At the end of the week my decision was made. On Monday when I returned to the SSA office I went in to see my boss and told him I was quitting. He asked me when I was leaving and I said, "As soon as I pack up my desk." I left that and never regretted it.
Feb 19, 2022·edited Feb 19, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
I was hit by a coup de foudre when I was 30. I was a young lieutenant, at a party for other officers of my command when I locked eyes with a gorgeous man (aka The Jerk) across the room. We made our way towards each other, stopping to mingle but never taking our eyes off each other. I was wearing a black with white polka dots silk sheath dress, a pair of Via Spiga heels, had my hair in a chignon and my signature red lipstick on. He was very tall, had wavy blond hair, turquoise blue eyes and a fabulous smile. We introduced ourselves, shook hands and both of us gasped. Lots of energy being exchanged that night. We talked about everything; our chemistry was off the charts. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to meet for a meal. He lived in Hartford, CT while I lived in New Haven so we really had to plan our dates.
We did this for about six months. I found out that he had been married and had three kids. He was divorced so had taken the job, in Hartford, to be near his kids. He was a Navy pilot, flew jets, normally. This should have been red flag number one but I had no idea. He talked about his ex like she was a snake, which should have been red flag number two. Red flag number three was he never seemed to have his wallet with him when we went out. It was either that ("Oops! I left it in my uniform pants!") or he "forgot" to stop at an ATM. I figured we were equals (he was a lieutenant too) so I paid, without question. Going into our seventh month, he came to my house for dinner. I pulled out all the stops; he was suitably impressed. He said it was time to take our relationship to the next level. I asked him to specify. He said passionate boffing. I replied that I needed to see his last HIV test. This was 1988 so it was serious. He asked to see mine. I had not only my last HIV test but my last gynecological results, indicating I was clean and pure as the driven snow. I told him he needed to have an HIV test plus be tested by a urologist to ensure he wasn't carrying any STDs. He was quite upset. He told me I should trust him but I was dying on this hill. I felt it was the mature thing to do. He did not. He told me I wasn't a real woman, that I was frigid and a prude. Mind you, we had only kissed so he knew nothing about me, in this department. He was so angry I wouldn't take the chance, that we were missing out on the most passionate night of our lives. How could I bring practicality into our relationship? Our break up was quite acrimonious.
I had to put on my game face, at work. It was tough. We were not speaking at all. A few weeks later, we had a Dining Out. It was at a fancy club and I was in my Mess Dress uniform. I was looking hot... again. While having a drink with some friends, they told me he had been telling everyone some bad things about me. They all knew me so didn't believe him but wanted me to know. Then, one of my buds, Dave, whispered to me, "He's here with his new girlfriend." I girded myself, put my expression in neutral and waited. He said, "Hello, Patrice. I want to introduce you to someone." When I turned, I expected to see Linda Evangelista; holy cow, no! She was a far cry from the women he bragged he could pull. I don't want to get judgey but wow. Even so, I wanted to tell her to run from him. With innuendo/euphemisms, he told us how good she was in bed, how she would do anything he wanted, sexually, how OPEN she was and how TRUSTING she was, that she was a real woman unlike some he knew. He even managed to let us know she was open to bareback sex WITHOUT an HIV test. Thankfully, everyone was disgusted with his thinly-disguised efforts to put me down. I said nothing, showed no emotion, just plastered a serene smile on my face but I was pissed and felt humiliated.
Well, karma came around quickly. He proceeded to get roaring drunk. Contrary to popular belief, the Navy doesn't condone that, especially in officers. This was also a change of command so he made himself look very bad in the eyes of our new boss. I watched, with hidden glee, as he went on to ruin himself, passing out right in front of our new boss's wife after sloppily trying to flirt with her. The next day was even better (for me), when the ceremony took place. He was so hung over, he had to fall out of ranks to get sick, in the gutter. It occurred to me, at that moment, I had dodged a bullet with this guy. Our professional relationship deteriorated to the point where we couldn't be in the same room with each other. He told me we were at war.
I replied he wouldn't win this one. Warring with him showed me I had a very hard and vicious nature when someone crossed me. He was stunned. Then, one day, my boss asked to speak with me.
He told me that The Jerk had resigned his commission. He was leaving the Navy. The Navy wasn't too thrilled since he was a jet guy so pulled out all the stops to get him to stay, offering bonuses, even begging. Nope! He told my boss he couldn't be in a US Navy where I existed, that he was leaving because he hated me too much. My boss was totally unaware because we had hidden our antipathy well. I was floored when my boss shared that he never liked The Jerk, based on his behavior at the Dining Out and change of command. He only wanted to know how a smart woman like me ended up dating a, well, jerk like him. The Jerk did, indeed, leave the Navy, much to my delight.
Bonus: I met his ex-wife at a recruiting thing I was doing, in the town she lived in. She asked me if I knew her ex. I told her I did. She asked me if I had dated her ex. I lied and said no nor did I know anyone who had done so. We had lunch (she asked me) where she proceeded to tell me how their divorce came about. He had always spread the word that she was a bitch and a snake. No. He was the bitch and the snake. Apparently, when he was flying for his squadron, he was a stone-cold ho, with a woman in every port. Now, supposedly, what goes on during deployments, stays on deployment... NOT! Please. People couldn't wait to spread the word about who did what to whom. Unfortunately, word got back to her what The Jerk was doing. She had a nervous breakdown and had to be medevaced back to the States (they were overseas). Her sister took the kids since he was deployable. It was a mess but, again, exhaled that I had not gone any further with this guy.
After I broke up with a long-time boyfriend, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married (after sex I might add). I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also.
Feb 19, 2022·edited Feb 19, 2022Liked by E. Jean Carroll
Vagina T. Fireball!!! I lost my shit!!! I'm having a side ache, and my jaws hurt! I can't even...I bet that cat just struts around like a big ole hairy nosed snob, and loves her name! I love cats like that.
I was laughing so hard, I forgot what I was going to say about the stupid player man.
About dumping a boyfriend. I never have.
Either they dumped me, or we came to a mutual uneventful parting of the ways. I've never been harshly dumped, but of course it broke my heart. I think the tally on me getting the old heave-ho is like 4 times? Might've been just 3.
I was emailing a break-up because it was long distance and I tried to be nice by saying some new age crap about how he could get over his issues. He emailed me back and said he didn’t want to hear any psycho babble. I replied and said, “Okay fine, but without the psycho babble, all that’s left of you is an asshole.”
Best moment award, if I do say so myself. Felt f-ing great.
After dating on and off for several years, I found he was also seeing others. When we broke up, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married. I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also/
After dating on and off for several years, I found he was also seeing others. When we broke up, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married. I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also.
I woke up one morning over 6 years ago , only slightly hungover by my standards, and called my brilliant, beautiful girlfriend. "Hi, honey, Happy Birthday! We can do whatever you want, you name it, don't worry about cost or anything, it's your birthday!" She started to cry and said "It was yesterday, asshole." I realized I had lost an entire day drinking, not for the first or twentieth time. She broke up with me. I broke up with booze. To make it a bigger, more elaborate stunt, after a lifelong habit I let beer and vodka spend the first couple nights of our separation in my fridge. I didn't touch them, they didn't crawl into bed with me and I eventually found a deserving home for them. People in the Detroit bar scene were incredulous and skeptical. They said "You really quit?" And I said, "No, I retired so I'll be eligible for the Hall of Fame in five years." I'm patiently awaiting my plaque.
My wife and I were separated, but she called and asked me for a ride to the photography studio where she had been "taking lessons." I dropped her off and later went to pick her up. No one was at the counter, so I called out. No answer. I walked to the back of the place where I found a staircase leading into a dark basement. I called again. No answer. I walked down the stairs into blackness, my arms stretched out in front of me to fend off obstacles. I heard breathing and moved toward it. My hands hit two people's shoulders. I recognized her perfume. As I turned to leave, she said, "Can you take me home?"
I said, "Buses run by here every hour."
Monumental breakup? hmmmm. Well, the one that I think is the dooziest (is that a word even?) was when I was working. Tiny little hospital in a rural town (24 beds TOTAL-they didn't even deliver babies unless the mom showed up with the kid crowning. Still don't some 40 years later. Rural healthcare leaves a lot to be desired.) The boss I had when I went to work there had moved on. His replacement was a short, stocky, woman who was supposedly the holder of two master's degrees and about 30 years of experience. Now what she wanted with that teeny little place out in the sticks should have been a red flag to the HR person, but they hired her.
First thing she did was schedule me to second shift which I hated. I was the only person on the staff who lived 45 miles away and she knew it. But I was also the only other person who could perform a particular procedure so she had me. Plus she scheduled me for extra call hours. Then she started calling my home at 7:30, 8:00, 9:00 in the morning when I was sleeping and telling my mother that I needed to get down there for "mandatory staff meetings." Thank God for caller ID. I told my mom to stop answering the phone and to unplug the answering machine.
After about a year of this, and I documented every bit of it, she made a mistake. She documented Quality Control on a very sensitive piece of equipment in the name of another staff member. I called that person and verified that she had not been in the building. Then I went and copied her time card, and the records, and hid them both where I knew she'd never find them. That night, they passed out the paychecks. I got a piece of paper and left a note on her desk-I RESIGN IMMEDIATELY. And walked out.
Then turned around and sued the place for professional, emotional, and sexual harassment-and won. Oh, and by the way, I called the appropriate government agency and notified them of what she had done and told them where to find the evidence. They pulled her license two weeks later.
Don't mess with me. I bite back.
After I graduated from Business School, I went to work as a Consultant with a Big Five firm. I should have known that it was a Boys' Club when, during the interview process, one of the Partners told me that I could not take breaks mid-week to "get my hair fixed". WTF? Then when I started working there, I was told that only 5% of all Partners at the time were female. It was implied that we couldn't "take it". So, in my 26-month tenure there, I was on the road for 24 months 5 days per week. I thought I would show them. Then, I was told I would be promoted, but would probably would never make Partner because I wore patterned pantyhose with seams and, by association, was too provocative. I resigned from that firm and went to a Big Five competing consulting firm.
Once there, I soon learned that the Partner in Charge (married) was sleeping with an Associate who was promoted unusually quickly, Additionally, he habitually imbibed in 2-martini lunches. I went out to one of these said lunches and was invited to have cocaine in the alley with a bunch of my supervisors. I declined because I do not put things in my nose in professional situations. One night, I was out with clients and one asked why I was not a Partner, since my credentials were better than many higher ups. My supervisor who was a bit in his cups stated: "Oh she should be, but she is such a chick."
A couple of weeks later, I was talking to one of my most talented Associates (Female, Latina) and we decided we would never be promoted no matter how much business we brought in or how many billable hours or all-nighters we sacrificed. The secret was being a guy; or, sleeping and/or snorting up with one. This was a theme we bitched about for weeks, until we realized that, because we were female and no one took us seriously, we probably had no enforceable non-solicitation agreements. Soon, after getting legal advice, the two of us vowed to sell some projects and do consulting better, faster, and cheaper than the sniffers and snorters. So, we marched into our boss' office and said: "We chicks (and chicas) are blowing this Popsicle Stand. We plan to open our own firm ASAP. And, we will be poaching our clients. Have a lovely day."
We were quickly escorted, i.e. hustled, out of the building by security. But, after 35 years of founding companies, I certainly have never looked back...
Well....I am ashamed to admit it that it took me almost 10 years to finally say I'd had enough of the lies (not married, married but divorcing, can't leave wife), suicide threats, "I'll-take-all-the-money-if-you-stop-sleeping-with-me threats," and me doing all the work while he took half the profits to say adios to this narcissistic turkey butt, dickweed, horse's ass, but when I did it was a doozy.
He had just informed me that he was too old to get a "real" job but I would have to find some contract work - in addition to the 10-hour days I was putting in creating and promoting the children's media property he was supposedly finding a buyer for - AND I would have to give him half of what I earned.
Something inside me snapped. We were on a Facetime call at the time. My mouth hung open for a couple of second before I was able to say, "You know I think you have finally made me hate you." And I threw the iPad against the wall (broke it) and never spoke to him again.
I have since learned that he took the money he got from selling his half of our company to his son, bought a new car, and took a road trip with the wife he was supposedly divorcing. Fortunately for me, his son had more integrity than his dad and agreed to dissolve the company and let me keep the IP.
I no longer hate the dickweed - some good therapy helped me see the HUGE lesson he taught me - but I still have moments when I'd like to barge in on his mindfulness meditation classes (he's become a practitioner and teacher) and say, "How do you live with yourself?" Not nice or kind I know, but I have six years of struggling to stay alive fueling my indignation.
My goal is to simply not care anymore. I'm getting there.
Five months after separation, lots of counseling, and a reconciliation, my then husband was watching the 16-monther in the kitchen while I had the 4-yr-old upstairs. I heard a couple of heavy thumps and wailing, and ran for the stairs. Baby had heard me upstairs and tried to come up, and fell. I scooped him up to comfort him and went looking for his father— still in the kitchen at the other end of the house. Not watching baby. I yelled at him to remind him he said he’d watch the baby; he, of course, said it was all my fault and, for good measure, kicked me so hard I had a bruise from my kneecap to where the blood ran down the tissue plane to my inner ankle/heel. Actually, if I hadn’t been holding a baby I would’ve liked to brain him with the first heavy object to hand, so I guess he got off easy there. Counseling had made me a LOT less likely to take shit.
Went to therapist next day (which he stopped seeing singly or with me three months previously, “too busy”). She said she would no longer try to save this marriage.
Next day when I was calmer I told him I was had contacted an atty referred by the therapist about a divorce, and would give him til the first of the month to find somewhere else to live. Just then 4-yr-old comes bounding in asking him to come push the swing. “I can’t do that because your mother is throwing me out of the house.”
“Don’t you EVER say that to them again,” I said. “You don’t want this? Fine, look me in the eye and tell me you love me and this will break your heart.”
Of course he couldn’t do that, and I knew he knew I knew he couldn’t do that, so … “OK, first of the month. You can have the guest room until then.”
No more chances.
First, spot on advice for Ms. Missed, and I would also love to know where she is now.
Second, my best break-up was actually with an agent -- also a woman. The TV studio I was writing for was subjecting me to all sorts of financial disrespect, even though my contract was clear. She was kind of brushing it aside. Wanting her to fight for me -- which was the job I was paying her to do -- I said "Remind them of my contract, and don't back down. I don't bend over for anybody."
She said "Brynne, you're a woman in Hollywood. You not only bend over, you carry the lube in your purse."
I fired her on the spot.
Bending over has to be consensual, y'all. <3
That 1st para (re schmuckhead back from vacay with a wife and "pulling the luggage I bought him") made me laugh. Your awesome book popped into my head, of course. "What Do We Need Men For?" Haahahaha. xoxo I was startled that the woman was really asking if she should give him another chance. It sounded like that couldn't be real. As reading the Borowitz Report or The Onion. But, I love your response EJ!!
I quit a terrible, abusive job on the spot one Friday, with nothing else lined up. This is *very* out of character for me and sounds like an awful move ... but on the Monday I got a call from a producer looking for story pitches. I ended up making my very first professional TV sales as a result, and have never been out of work since.
But the break up story I'd love to hear is from the woman who wrote the original letter! I'd also love to hear, 15 years later, what this woman is doing now with her much, much better and totally different boyfriend. (And perhaps, out of idle curiosity, maybe an update on which lawyer the new wife used to get a hefty divorce settlement out of the idiot *old* boyfriend. And the location of the Taco Bell drive-thru where he now works.)
I was a company member at a well-known haunted house for a few years (it sounds silly but it was one of the best paid and most creatively fulfilling jobs I've had as an actor). The dude who treated me worse than anyone else I've dated was also a company member, and he's the one who got me involved in the first place. Everyone there adored him (or seemed to) and was oblivious or uncaring about what I was going through with him, and I just felt like the whole company was accidentally - or not - helping him gaslight me. But again. since it was artistically great and it paid, I spent TWO FREAKING YEARS with my letter of resignation e-mail saved in my drafts folder. I agonized over it. But when I finally did it, I felt amazing and have only regretted waiting so long.
A very successful man had been staying at my home when in town (a lot, about 20 days a month) and not contributing anything but elderly vegetables and molding fruit when he arrived for each stay. After one year of this, while cleaning his piss off the toilet before I had to go to my job, (and having never had a fight with him), I full on SNAPPED. "Get your shit out of here! Take your pablum porn, your moldy fruit and bread, your dirty underwear and get the fuck out!" He was stunned, having never seen this side of me in the year together. Now I know why there is an endless supply of women for the show "Snapped".
My most brilliant breakup?
Set the scene: I, 18 and Irish-Catholic; he, 38 and Jewish. Met in the•a•tre class in college where he landed the lead in The Glass Menagerie and I got Costume Head.
I decided it was time to cash in my v-card and he would do.
My mother, racist & abusive, hated him.
This was back in the early 80's and he was a punk. He was cold to me and I mistook that for cool. Actually, I know now he just was a poseur and a sanctimonious prick.
Anyway. We dated for a year but he kept an emotional distance.
He and his two roommates threw a Halloween party. (I didn't know that a 38 year old guy shouldn't have been an undergrad and shouldn't have two roommates to prop him up).
Anyway. I show up late, dressed as a geisha. There had been punch with some kind of pharmaceuticals (Amyl Nitrate?) and whippets, but all of this was gone by the time I got there.
Artie ignored me.
I was fed up. I went into the living room where a friend of theirs shouted, "I want Lee!" and broke two television sets, one stacked upon the other. In my innocence, I never knew that David was interested in me.
Anyway. I sat on the couch and started making out with Kelley (Gerald's middle name -- a poet always in existential agony).
Then I slept with him in the next room. He was basically impotent, limp, but it counted in my book.
A few days later, Artie phoned and asked me to come over. He sat in a chair in his darkened room, chainsmoking. Told me he loved me. For the first time.
I scoffed. Said it was too late. And moved on, jaded at 19.
After two months of dating, the guy admits he’s married but on his way to divorce court…Well…he had a significant birthday coming up and I managed to arrange for a yellow rose for each year to be delivered with my card attached. When he got to his home, his wife made things uncomfortable - he called and told me things were tense. I told him if she had been smart, she would have tossed my card out and attached her own. He laughed but things got worse: she called me and we had a chat. We both dropped him…
Left a note breaking up with him in his morning newspaper after hearing from a friend he had taken another woman to a ball. He was trying to turn me into a mistress and I refused to let that happen. He found me a couple of weeks later, volunteering at a charity bazaar. His words - “You left a note in my newspaper.” I replied, “Yes,” and returned to my work. Have always enjoyed the crispness of my ending it.
My “best” breakup was with a job. It was a healthcare company under a DOD contract. At the time military veterans had been promised free health care. Well, NOT. Not only was it no longer free, but we were instructed to make appointments for the lowest cost provider regardless of how long these military vets had to wait for an appointment.
Since I come from a family where all the men were veterans from almost every war, and my Dad had won the Silver Star, this went against my moral grain.
I told my boss I didn’t like this. She told me to “take the rest of the day off”. So I did….went home for lunch and never went back
P.S. Ms.Missed….Fuck no
I've been drunker than a skunk but have never come home with a husband!
november 3, 2020 so long asshole!
I was young 18 and my 19 year old boyfriend, Brian, had to spent the summer in another state to help on the family farm. We decided to do our own thing while he was away. He ended up needing to stay another year. I started dating an older guy, Steve, and it was fun, he took me to expensive restaurants and bought me nice gifts. Brian came into town on Valentines Day and wanted to surprise me. I had already accepted a date with Steve, who brought me a gift and flowers. I told him mid date that I had an emergency at my “uncle’s” house and asked if he could he drive me there. Of course he did, but it was Brian’s house. In my haste to see him I left the card, flowers, and gift in Steve’s car. After realizing it, he came back to the house and Brian’s brother opened the door for him in which he saw me sitting in Brian’s lap. After Brian left to go back to family farm, I called Steve. A lady answered the phone, when he got on the phone I asked who she was and he answered, “My Aunt”. We both had a laugh and I learned my lesson then and there.
Vagina T. Fireball!!!!!
Are you joking? He will do this or something of the sort again and again. That is who he is. There is a sense of entitlement there that takes my breath away. I think everyone on this site should read “Why does he do that?” by Lundy Bancroft. Google it. It is downloadable free in US archives.com
Its a fabulous eye opening read written by a no nonsense man responsible for starting programs that try to straighten out abuse in men….
Abuse is on a spectrum. Lying is a first step. Why is it ok to lie to you in such a gross manner to start with? And then even thinks he should be forgiven?????…He did this because he thought he would get away with it, you caught him and now he is sorry. Period.
He is sorry he got caught nothing else.
Perhaps you give more expensive presents than the new wife can, who knows why he suddenly had a change of heart? Anyone who marries on impulse like that is not « right in the head ». He is a child, a damaged child.
Let me guess, your Xmas present was much more thoughtful and expensive than his?
Anyone with an once of respect for the person they are seing would not even think of doing what he has done. Men mostly behave poorly because they feel that being male permits them to behave terribly, they are mostly correct as they often get away with it.
He does not have respect for you, himself or your relationship.He is a broken perhaps abused puppy that will only bring trouble and difficulties to your life. You have now seen what this man is capable of ….run in the other direction, please. The main reason you are considering taking him back is probably loneliness. Its no fun. You have to distract yourself and get busy online or any other way to meet a healthy sane man.
She went on a surprise European vacation without me, so I went on permanent staycation.
After spending my 20s through mid-40s betrothed, I was thrust into the world of online dating once divorced. The first thing I did was ask my Oby Wan Gynoby what STDs I needed to look out for. You see I was never careful in my younger youth and have a theory that since I never contracted anything as a reckless whore that I was most certainly getting Herpes or Syphilis or something as an adult. Kind of like Final Destination but with STDs. Final Festernation. (Have you HEARD about The Villages in Florida?)
Sure enough she told me to be mindful of Herpes and HPV as there was a near epidemic of middle aged women like me contracting them with the potential of progressing to cervical cancer.
Now that I was armed with knowledge and free to date any kind of man I pleased for any reason at all, I decided that the standards I once had could be shifted a bit. I used to only date black men, and usually they were handsome and fit which is why I was attracted in the first place. Now I was more interested in giving those I might usually overlook a chance to see if there was more going on under the hood. My new rules simply were that we had interesting correspondence. Then a great phone call after numbers were exchanged within a reasonable time frame. Then the fellow asked me on a real date. It's harder than it sounds, but there it is.
The first man I dated more than once was met on Chemistry.com. Match.com's allegedly more serious brother. He was around my age, but rather portly and white. Father of two teenage boys. Whirlwind romance to be sure and he relocated to be closer to me. It was about 6 months in where trouble began. He had been hoping to lose weight after being found too large around the middle to ride a theme park ride and so we began working out together. Are you ready for this?
Soon after I began noticing splotches on his penis. At which point I told him he needed to get that checked out. I refused sex so he agreed. Before he could get to that appointment those splotches turned into scales and began peeling. Turns out that was some kind of fungus and required a topical to treat it. So he gets back from the doctor, slathers up his willie, and shouts with glee, "I'm ready!" And after my response, "Not even a BLOW JOB?!?! You sure have a lot of rules all of a sudden."
I sent him packing with the ointment he rode in on. And that is how I learned that just because a romantic interest lacks outer beauty does not mean they've been working on inner beauty. Online dating is like shopping at Ross. You have to weed through a shit ton of irregulars to find a gem.
After working nine years as a medical / legal translator / interpreter for the Social Security Administration I was burned out. I requested to be sent "on detail" to the executive and management training department of Health and Human Services headquarters in downtown DC hoping that the change of scenery would be helpful. For a year I bathed in the heady excitement of organizing and taking training seminars designed to teach participants to reach their full career potential. My detail was prolonged several times but finally the time came when my supervisor back at the SSA insisted I return. With a heavy heart I returned to my SSA but there was little work for me to do, my boss only wanted me back because if I stayed away too long, the number of people he supervised would be reduced. The days dragged on, (this was pre-internet times) I sat at my desk and read books, magazines, my boss drew the line when I showed up one day with my knitting! I was so depressed I took a week off from work. A friend asked me if I wanted to go with her to volunteer that week at the NGO where she worked. Rather than moping around the house, I agreed. I found myself busy and appreciated so much that they offered me a paid position, albeit at a lower salary than my government job. At the end of the week my decision was made. On Monday when I returned to the SSA office I went in to see my boss and told him I was quitting. He asked me when I was leaving and I said, "As soon as I pack up my desk." I left that and never regretted it.
I was hit by a coup de foudre when I was 30. I was a young lieutenant, at a party for other officers of my command when I locked eyes with a gorgeous man (aka The Jerk) across the room. We made our way towards each other, stopping to mingle but never taking our eyes off each other. I was wearing a black with white polka dots silk sheath dress, a pair of Via Spiga heels, had my hair in a chignon and my signature red lipstick on. He was very tall, had wavy blond hair, turquoise blue eyes and a fabulous smile. We introduced ourselves, shook hands and both of us gasped. Lots of energy being exchanged that night. We talked about everything; our chemistry was off the charts. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to meet for a meal. He lived in Hartford, CT while I lived in New Haven so we really had to plan our dates.
We did this for about six months. I found out that he had been married and had three kids. He was divorced so had taken the job, in Hartford, to be near his kids. He was a Navy pilot, flew jets, normally. This should have been red flag number one but I had no idea. He talked about his ex like she was a snake, which should have been red flag number two. Red flag number three was he never seemed to have his wallet with him when we went out. It was either that ("Oops! I left it in my uniform pants!") or he "forgot" to stop at an ATM. I figured we were equals (he was a lieutenant too) so I paid, without question. Going into our seventh month, he came to my house for dinner. I pulled out all the stops; he was suitably impressed. He said it was time to take our relationship to the next level. I asked him to specify. He said passionate boffing. I replied that I needed to see his last HIV test. This was 1988 so it was serious. He asked to see mine. I had not only my last HIV test but my last gynecological results, indicating I was clean and pure as the driven snow. I told him he needed to have an HIV test plus be tested by a urologist to ensure he wasn't carrying any STDs. He was quite upset. He told me I should trust him but I was dying on this hill. I felt it was the mature thing to do. He did not. He told me I wasn't a real woman, that I was frigid and a prude. Mind you, we had only kissed so he knew nothing about me, in this department. He was so angry I wouldn't take the chance, that we were missing out on the most passionate night of our lives. How could I bring practicality into our relationship? Our break up was quite acrimonious.
I had to put on my game face, at work. It was tough. We were not speaking at all. A few weeks later, we had a Dining Out. It was at a fancy club and I was in my Mess Dress uniform. I was looking hot... again. While having a drink with some friends, they told me he had been telling everyone some bad things about me. They all knew me so didn't believe him but wanted me to know. Then, one of my buds, Dave, whispered to me, "He's here with his new girlfriend." I girded myself, put my expression in neutral and waited. He said, "Hello, Patrice. I want to introduce you to someone." When I turned, I expected to see Linda Evangelista; holy cow, no! She was a far cry from the women he bragged he could pull. I don't want to get judgey but wow. Even so, I wanted to tell her to run from him. With innuendo/euphemisms, he told us how good she was in bed, how she would do anything he wanted, sexually, how OPEN she was and how TRUSTING she was, that she was a real woman unlike some he knew. He even managed to let us know she was open to bareback sex WITHOUT an HIV test. Thankfully, everyone was disgusted with his thinly-disguised efforts to put me down. I said nothing, showed no emotion, just plastered a serene smile on my face but I was pissed and felt humiliated.
Well, karma came around quickly. He proceeded to get roaring drunk. Contrary to popular belief, the Navy doesn't condone that, especially in officers. This was also a change of command so he made himself look very bad in the eyes of our new boss. I watched, with hidden glee, as he went on to ruin himself, passing out right in front of our new boss's wife after sloppily trying to flirt with her. The next day was even better (for me), when the ceremony took place. He was so hung over, he had to fall out of ranks to get sick, in the gutter. It occurred to me, at that moment, I had dodged a bullet with this guy. Our professional relationship deteriorated to the point where we couldn't be in the same room with each other. He told me we were at war.
I replied he wouldn't win this one. Warring with him showed me I had a very hard and vicious nature when someone crossed me. He was stunned. Then, one day, my boss asked to speak with me.
He told me that The Jerk had resigned his commission. He was leaving the Navy. The Navy wasn't too thrilled since he was a jet guy so pulled out all the stops to get him to stay, offering bonuses, even begging. Nope! He told my boss he couldn't be in a US Navy where I existed, that he was leaving because he hated me too much. My boss was totally unaware because we had hidden our antipathy well. I was floored when my boss shared that he never liked The Jerk, based on his behavior at the Dining Out and change of command. He only wanted to know how a smart woman like me ended up dating a, well, jerk like him. The Jerk did, indeed, leave the Navy, much to my delight.
Bonus: I met his ex-wife at a recruiting thing I was doing, in the town she lived in. She asked me if I knew her ex. I told her I did. She asked me if I had dated her ex. I lied and said no nor did I know anyone who had done so. We had lunch (she asked me) where she proceeded to tell me how their divorce came about. He had always spread the word that she was a bitch and a snake. No. He was the bitch and the snake. Apparently, when he was flying for his squadron, he was a stone-cold ho, with a woman in every port. Now, supposedly, what goes on during deployments, stays on deployment... NOT! Please. People couldn't wait to spread the word about who did what to whom. Unfortunately, word got back to her what The Jerk was doing. She had a nervous breakdown and had to be medevaced back to the States (they were overseas). Her sister took the kids since he was deployable. It was a mess but, again, exhaled that I had not gone any further with this guy.
After I broke up with a long-time boyfriend, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married (after sex I might add). I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also.
Vagina T. Fireball!!! I lost my shit!!! I'm having a side ache, and my jaws hurt! I can't even...I bet that cat just struts around like a big ole hairy nosed snob, and loves her name! I love cats like that.
I was laughing so hard, I forgot what I was going to say about the stupid player man.
About dumping a boyfriend. I never have.
Either they dumped me, or we came to a mutual uneventful parting of the ways. I've never been harshly dumped, but of course it broke my heart. I think the tally on me getting the old heave-ho is like 4 times? Might've been just 3.
Vagina T. Fireball....haahahahahaha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Love the name: Virgina T. Fireball!! My kitty is: Pussy Galore. ❤
I was emailing a break-up because it was long distance and I tried to be nice by saying some new age crap about how he could get over his issues. He emailed me back and said he didn’t want to hear any psycho babble. I replied and said, “Okay fine, but without the psycho babble, all that’s left of you is an asshole.”
Best moment award, if I do say so myself. Felt f-ing great.
"Should I give him another chance?" Simply, no.
Abuse and betrayal have no place in a loving relationship.
Let him fade into the past, he's not worth it.
AMEN to that!!
Lovely poem - thanks for sharing
I think Missed Being Mrs. question is ironic.
After dating on and off for several years, I found he was also seeing others. When we broke up, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married. I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also/
After dating on and off for several years, I found he was also seeing others. When we broke up, we had the best relationship of our relationship. And I admit I was lazy. I was working full-time, getting a degree and didn't have time to look for a better boyfriend. The last straw: when he came to see my new apartment, had dinner and THEN told me he was getting married. I didn't care, on one hand, but on the other, it was humiliating everyone else knew. I went to his office with a bottle of perfume and proceeded to spread it on the carpeting and on his Burberry raincoat -- like a dog peeing to mark its territory. The staff just stared and said nothing. I wonder if they loved the show because he was probably such an asshole to them also.
Trump wants your golden shower and grab your cunt you would love it
Your some cunt
Your some cunt