Anyone who hasn't realised by this point that I'm a little nuts is obviously not paying attention.
While I am not full on sack-of-hammers, I am more than sane enough to admit that I can be a little blardeeblar from time to time.
Well. On that note. Here's this story. This may be the only time in my life I feel justified in behaving in a completely nuts, over the top way. The only time I will not apologise for doing something balls-to-the-wall bonkers. I mean, come on, would you turn down the opportunity to do something completely nuts and get away with it? If you said no, you're lying. We have all wanted to tell a boss exactly what we thought of them. We have all fantasized about jumping up on a table in a crowded restaurant and leading the assembled grazers and munchers in an upbeat musical number. And c'mon, who HASN'T thought like Robin on HIMYM and wanted to throw a drink in some dude's face?
I had this ex that was an improv comedian. It's important to note that I love to date funny men. If you can make me laugh, honest to god, my legs are already spread like peanut butter. And this guy was seriously funny. Timing, a great voice, wit: he had it all. We had a cute relationship starting story. I was a HUGE fan of the improv troupe he was in, they performed weekly at our college and my friends and I almost never missed a show. At that point in my life, I had an insane amount of confidence and just decided one day, that funny guy? That one with the glasses? I want him. He will be mine. Oh, yes. He will be mine. And having decided this, I managed to finagle his messenger name from my College Best Friend and introduced myself. That's right, kids. It started on AIM... uh-huh, AOL Instant Messenger. At one point, we both had excerpts from our conversations posted in our AIM profiles. If that's not a sign of burgeoning early 2000s love, I don't know what is, really. We flirted all summer, cleverly phrased messages flying while I was stuck in my hometown and I could not WAIT to get back to school to actually hang out with him, to really meet him for the first time in person.
Summer flies by, I come back to school. We meet up and have cheap late night food together. In keeping with some cute joke I'd made, I brought him a stick pony and gave it to him in the parking lot of IHOP. We had a lot of fun, for a while. We were both obsessed with Buffy. We both liked to talk, a lot. We watched LOST together, laughed at all the same comedy videos. I thought he was hilarious. He thought I was great because I thought he was hilarious.
We were two stubborn, arrogant, self-centered nerds looking for love in all the wrong places. He was a 20-something very inexperienced nerd who wanted someone who was happy all the time to be his personal cheering squad. I wanted someone who gave a shit about what I felt enough to NOT make fun of my then-favorite musician (Bright Eyes) and I didn't care that he didn't fit that mold... goddamnit, I would MAKE him fit. It didn't work out.
And that, dear readers, is a perfect recipe for comic gold.
We broke up while I was on my lunch break when I still worked at Borders-- I thought he was being insensitive, I was feeling pissy, I snapped and broke up with him. It was painful, like it always is when you have to disentangle your life from another person's. It was also a HUGE relief because we weren't happy. But a lot of optimistic things were said, we hoped we could remain friends. Then a while passed. And he was dating another girl. I found out he was saying he broke up with me. He was talking about how crazy I was. And legit, guys, I wasn't the most happy person back then... in a completely different way than I'm crazy now.
He asked me to bring some stuff that he'd left at my apartment to his dorm. I texted him that I was there and he told me to leave the items by the doorway and then text him when I was gone. The final straw.
Call me crazy? Ok. Cool. I'll give you crazy.
I opened the bag and began to spread his possessions on the grass in front of his dorm. T-shirts, a couple books... I dunno, deodorant, chinchillas; whatever kinda shit college kids leave at each other's places. While arranging everything, my eyes came to rest on a tree and I thought, PERFECT! I very artfully (and carefully, I didn't want to damage them) arranged his CDs and DVDs like Christmas baubles on the tree branches. For the coup de grace, I grabbed the pile of tighty whitey undapants he'd left at my home and threw them straight up, letting them fall where they may.
I then called my friend who lived in the dorm directly facing his, briefly explained the situation and asked if I could watch from his window. He said sure, for some reason, and let me in. I immediately ran to the window so that we could watch.We all did: the friend who lived in the dorm, me, and well, oddly enough... one of the next guys I would date. I texted him that his stuff was waiting for him outside and then gleefully watched him pick it up, pick it up, pick it up like so many ska fans. Hilarity ensued, my reputation was damaged to some, others appreciated what I had done. My favorite version of this story that spread around after this was when someone told me that they'd heard that I'd lit his stuff on fire.
I took a stand the only way I could. I swear, that moment of seeing bits of sunlight in between the falling manties is forever burned in my brain. We weren't going to be able to sit and have a rational conversation, 'cause frankly, nothing either of us would've said would've made it any better. Once it was clear that he was lying about me, I wasn't mature enough to have dealt with it calmly, even before the possession grenade went off on the landscaping. So that moment was my catharsis, which was honestly the best thing I could've done for myself.
So here's that story. That time a handful of underwear and a childish prank helped me deal. No matter how stupid or irrational my choices seem to someone who wasn't there, I am so fucking happy that I could let go and give someone a heaping helping of exactly what they were describing me as, damnit. And while it's worth admitting that this ex is one of the VERY, very few that I am not pretty close friends with, we don't hate each other. We have even had a couple civil conversations over AIM and FB chat in years past. But never have I regretted this moment. And rest assured, this wouldn't be the last time I did something over the top to say, "Hey, you want something to talk about? I will GIVE you something to talk about," I love this story because, well, that shit is bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. And damn. Sometimes that's the best kind of fruity to be.
