I wish my exes lived elsewhere

February 25, 2005 at 10:37 am (Rant Goodness)

I had a little tiny bit of time between a suprise rush order and packing my house to read a new blog. Bry's the author, and the name is Bryanna and the City. She's a funny camper–well worth the read! I found the link to a rant of hers on Bottling Up The Crazy, MooCow's fountain of near-limitless insanity (another excellent read, but wear your Depends and don't be eating or drinking anything while reading). She's detailing a run-in with an ex, which reminded me of the screwiest phenomenon I've run into yet–people who sit and read new phone books.

The last year I lived in Eau Claire, my phone number wound up being published. To illustrate the ensuing proof of the Darwin Theory, I now bring you Serra's Sock Puppet Theater.

RIIIIIING!! RIIIIIING!!

Me: Uh…hello? still scanning an email on safe use of Peppermint essential oil
Him:
Hi–it's (insert name of man I had fired for sexual harassment on the job 7 years before). How's it goin'?
Me: It's going great here! I'm dating an automotive engineer. He's a wonderful guy and he spoils me rotten. How's your wife?
Him: I ain't workin' where I was. My boss was a bitch and I told her tuh shove it.

(translation–I groped her ass and she canned me)

Him: The Wife's cut me off–told me I hafta go find another woman for you-know because she ain't never giving me any again and ain't givin' me a divorce.*
Me: Hm, interesting.

(Interesting that it took her 7 years to do it–she worked at the same nursing home he and I did and knew damned well what got Hubby's ass canned)

Me: So, what made you decide to call me?
Him: Well, we got the new phone book on the porch today and I was readin' thru it…and I saw yer name and ya know I always, uh, liked ya…

Once this evolutionary mistake got it thru his head that I was most emphatically NOT AVAILABLE, he had the nerve to ask if I'd "fix him up" with one of my hot slutty friends. Yep, he specified "hot and slutty". It didn't break my heart to tell him I didn't know a single woman I hated that much.

I wasn't surprised that it happened once. I was suprised that it happened several more times that week. All of these ex-boyfriend calls contained the line, "Well, I saw your number listed in the new phone book, and I really miss you so I thought…"

"I really miss you" translates to me as, "I'm hard up and you're good enough again, so if you're not busy…" Oh. Yeah. Oh. Baby. Oh ~flip phone sex script page~ yeah. Nothing makes me hotter than a guy assuming I've changed enough to put up with his sorry ass twice.

Did it not dawn on any of the 8 men who'd called me that week that, if he really had it going on, he would not have time to dig thru a brand-new phone book all the way to the SSS's? Wouldn't naked chicks show up on his doorstep in droves, each carrying her very own six-pack of his favorite beer?

To steal a saying, "No matter how good he looks or how hot he is, some woman somewhere is sick of his shit."

*Apologies to Mr. K and anyone else having a seizure over the grammar here. It's my best recollection of Fucktard's words.

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