Nobody knows my reputation.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

New Year, New Dude

Just shows to go ya: sometimes a CLEAN break is best.


The first message is a girl’s apology for cheating on her boyfriend. The second is his response:


It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now. I feel like the worst person ever.

First, I am truly, truly sorry and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. All of us had WAY too much to drink and I did a stupid thing.

I can handle you being pissed at me. What I can’t handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, the world looked funny yesterday, I couldn’t crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can’t listen to and I just feel beyond crushed. I don’t know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn’t. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid but you have come to play such a significant role in my life. I hate feeling like you hate me and that all of your friends think Im a terrible person, because I am not.

Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can’t even focus or work today, I can’t eat. I seriously hope against hope that you are not done with me. Please don’t cut me off. I really don’t think I can handle that.

I am so sorry.


Dear Elizabeth,

Thank you for your concern. I’ll be sure to file it away under “L” for “long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn’t care less about.”

You did a “stupid thing,” huh? No, doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is “a stupid thing.” Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is “a stupid thing.” Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you’re taking so long because you ate too much bran isn’t as much a “stupid thing” as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar.

To be honest, I’m not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet (not once but twice in a two-hour time span) or that you seemed to think that saying “Well, I didn’t f**k him” somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn’t care less if the world “looked funny” to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada bags and jelly beans, I’m sure it must have been most unsettling to actually consider somebody else’s feelings for 24 hours.

The good news for you is that my friends don’t think you’re a terrible person. They just think you’re the average, run of the mill, cum-guzzling blonde who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but it’s pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she’s seeing someone else in New Jersey. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser, we’ll laugh our heads off about the whole thing.

Talk to you never,

p.s. -- I bcc’d about 100 people on this email.


Advanced beyond all that you can possibly comprehend with 100% of your brain.

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