No Time is a Good Time for a Breakup.
I’m going to share some science with you that you may be unaware of: If you know someone named Sarah, be it a friend, relative, hated enemy or one night fling, you will most certainly know the band ‘Jefferson Starship.’ Why would that be and how exactly is this all scientific? First off, I don’t need to explain anything to you! However, the science here is that you’ve heard Jefferson Starship’s rendition of the song ‘Sara.’ You know the song, ‘There’s storms brewing in her eyes,’ or ‘No time is a good time for good byes.’ Straight up science; not even the Mythbusters or the Junior Mythbusters could prove otherwise…
While I was out with @masterdater, @winkwinkzoe, @premiddleage and @missmelisamae I was sharing a breakup story. While I’m at it, I feel I should inform you, if you didn’t already know, that I’m incapable of telling a concise story to save my life, your life and an infant two year olds life. My default verbosity setting is “A Whole F#cking Lot!” That said, dear reader, you may wish to run and not walk to the next blog in your RSS feed.
I was dating this woman, Bertha (no, not her real name), and she’d been out of state for a long time due to her job and she was gone for two months. When she came back things were weird. I let it go for a couple weeks. Fine, no problem; things, however, are getting worse; we’ve become awkward friends that do the back to back spoon action. Sexy, right?
I find out, on our way for a weekend getaway, that she’s more or less cheated on me. I spend the rest of our trip thinking of a good time to break up with Bertha. I decided I didn’t want to “talk” it out. I just wanted to dump her like a good habit, or a piece of broken ceramics or something…
Here was my thought process.
Me: Well, sh#t. We’re already 3 hours to San Francisco, telling her now would be lame. I really want to see Fight of the Conchords and I don’t want to watch it, feeling like [email protected] and crying. It’ll have to wait.
Bertha: What the fck did you just say?
Me: Damn, woman! Pay attention to your own mental thoughts. Jerk!!
Bertha: You were talking out loud, dck!
Me: sigh Shut it before I give you the business end of my Birkenstocks
Bertha: … I hate you.
Me: Damn, this is a nice hotel Bertha got for us. If I tell her now, I’ll have to stay somewhere in Chinatown. Hrmm, it’ll have to wait. Definitely can’t do it during the concert…
Me: I just met Jemaine and Brett, of Flight of the Conchords. I can’t break up with Bertha now… It’ll have to wait.
The time comes for the journey home and, still, my dumb ass can’t think of when or how to say “I don’t like you; I’m taking my cheesy poofs and going home.” So we drove and drove, about three or so hours not talking, playing the iPod. It’s then that I get the idea that breaking up with my girl at the grapevine, a good hour and half away from where I live, would be a grand idea. As we make our ascent I cut the iPod and tell Bertha that I think there’s a problem. We go back and forth, with her saying “I don’t know, cock face. What do YOU think the problem is?” Needless to say, this wasn’t turning out quite as I’d hoped; then I slam on the breaks. Gridlock (No, not the Transformer Grimlock, people, though that would be bad ass if Grimlock dropped from the sky and started kicking the Sh#t out of cars and cleared me a path to get home quicker!). We haven’t even reached the midway point of the damned grapevine yet. Our breakup lasts about as long as I do in the bedroom after a shot of Tequila. Minutes… Not seconds. Okay, maybe seconds, but shut up about it and don’t judge me! I turn on the iPod and I kid you not, Sarah McLachlan’s ‘Adia’ starts playing, in a cruel reenactment of Dawson’s Creek. Argh! If I hadn't put on the radio, I’m sure the next song would have been ‘Why Can’t We be Friends.’
It took another THREE hours to get home. So much for planning an optimum time to breakup with someone; there really is no good time for a break up. You just kind of do it, though, I’m sure Steven Hawking could have figured it out.
Until next time, if you want to take advantage of me, my poison is cheap tequila. =)
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Love. This. Post.
Hilarious. And true.
Tequila. Got it.
Yes, there's NO right time for a breakup. I feel like jumping on the bandwagon here, and writing about how to break up artfully …