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Breaking up is hard to do. Slightly less so with two-timing drug dabblers.

September 15, 2010

Rachel dumped me.

Wait. Did I never tell you guys that I was dating a girl named Rachel?

OK, let me start over.

I was dating a girl named Rachel. Then she dumped me. Ta-da.

Remember that time I got up on my high horse and said that I was too special and awesome for casual dating? I hope for your sake you remember, because it was only a few weeks ago. I’m no doctor – although I’m practically a nurse practitioner as evidenced by my recent self-diagnosis of cervical cancer after finding a lump in my neck – but short-term memory loss is a sign of lead poisoning in children, so if you’re a kid reading this blog and already have forgotten my post from last month, STOP EATING PAINT. I probably just saved a life. Also, youths should not be reading this blog because lately I can’t seem to stop talking about my cervix and I swear like a motherfucker. Oops. Sorry, kids.

So, back to my casual-dating high horse.Well, technically, I don’t have a horse. I have two cats. I guess I could stack Teva and Isabel on top of each other, but they’d still be only about two feet off the ground, and that’s not very far to fall at all. But sometimes people can drown in only a few inches of water, and Keith Moon choked on a puddle of his own vomit, so I guess maybe toppling from Teva and Isabel could potentially be hazardous. At the very least, I could sprain something. This would all be moot if my parents had bought me a pony.

Rachel was the last date during my Month of Casual Dating. We hit it off right away. First impressions: incredibly cute, mischievous, brainy. During our second date, she kissed me unexpectedly on a busy street corner in Harvard Square, and I was smitten. For Date 3 – in which I’m happy to report I didn’t propose marriage because I learned the hard way earlier this year that girls apparently don’t appreciate that – she invited me over to her apartment for wine on her porch. All was lovely until a lull between sips and snogs, when I innocently inquired: “Are you seeing anyone else?” “Yes,” she replied.

Crickets.

“It isn’t serious with Alyssa,” Rachel assured me. I hate Alyssa. What a dumb name.

“It’s fun,” Rachel insisted. I want to kill Alyssa. And seriously, the last four letters of her name spelled backward is “assy.”

“Just casual,” Rachel shrugged. Bitch has to die. The letters of her name also spell “salsa.” Damn it. I like salsa. Let’s stay focused on “assy.”

She emailed me a few days later, asking whether I’d like to continuing dating her despite the confession.

And then I fell off my high horse. Which I’ve already established is actually not that high at all, and not even a horse but house cats piled in a two-tiered pyramid formation.

The truth is, I didn’t care Rachel has a girlfriend. In my perpetual state of singledom that leaves me starved for human contact, I was feeling desperate enough to suspend my morals and better judgment and share her with someone else.

The next day, during the course of our vegetarian Indian dinner for two, Rachel mentioned having gotten so smashed that she’d bailed on her weekend plans. Then she started spouting off about a drug-dealer friend who frequents parties at her house. Later, she said she spent the two days leading up to her birthday in June high on methamphetamines.

Red flags.

And yet, I still wanted to go home with her.

As we left the eatery, she awkwardly began, “So, I think you’re really smart, and funny, but …” and I knew immediately that I was about to get the Sapphic sayonara. “… you’re not my type.”

There it was. I’d just been dismissed by a recreational Speed user and possible chronic alcohol abuser with shady associates who’s casually seeing someone else. Apparently, my high horse just wasn’t high enough.

Ironically, the girl who’d just demonstrated a slew of stupid choices was able to make the one smart decision I was seemingly incapable of.

Of course I know that she did me a favor. I’d just been hoping that she’d do me other favors first.

And by “other” I mean “sexual.”

And did anyone else notice that I just said “do me”?

Also, Rachel wasn’t upfront about assy Alyssa, and I never disclosed the neck lump I’ve named Mango that, if not a malignancy in my lady bits, is probably indicative of mono, the clap (Sarah P.‘s astute suggestion) or another highly contagious social disease spread by swapping spit.

Let’s call it even.

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54 Comments leave one →
  1. September 15, 2010 2:33 PM

    oh honey bunch! I’m sorry the meth addict crackwhore dumped you. getting dumped by losers sucks even more than getting dumped by someone awesome. but maybe she realized she wasn’t good enough for YOU? which, bee tee double you, she isn’t.

    she totally isn’t.

    I am writing you a prescription for a new sex toy. if that doesn’t work, fly your Portland hating ass to Portland and I’ll make it all better (after I’m done being sick of course. THAT would suck).

    *hugs*

  2. September 15, 2010 2:35 PM

    Dude, your emotional escapades make me laugh really hard, and then I kind of feel bad that I laughed. So, well done.

  3. September 15, 2010 2:45 PM

    See? Here’s where casual dating would work: you get to “date” the girl with-possible-drug-andalcohol-problems-and-a-GF. And by “date” I mean “do.” As in, her. As in, you get the “other” favors you were talking about. BUT, as the dates progress and you learn more about her substance abuse and live-in wifey, you realize (more and more) she’s not really someone you want to propose marriage to – ever. You realize maybe Alyssa could be salsa or assy (i.e. you maybe would like her or want to kill her, who knows) but it doesn’t matter because she can have Rachel all to herself.

    And then you date someone else. Or at the same time. Whatever floats your, uh, boat.

    But, in my theory at least, you get to have fun and have some sex. And get to know people better before you propose marriage. Basically, enjoy some perks and focus on getting to know people, instead of satiating a need for human contact and sacrificing your morals for someone who isn’t worth it. That’s where learning to date casually might be helpful.

    Yeah. Well. That’s my theory anyway. Works for me – but don’t take my word for it. It may not work for you. 🙂

    Either way – (to sound utterly fifteen and clueless) – you’re funny! 😉

  4. September 15, 2010 2:45 PM

    Wow, what a ride, though, you know? See you should keep dating, there’s just all kinds of experiences out there waiting to happen. Of course, I hope most are better than this one was in the end, but still! Getting kissed on that street corner had to have been a rush!

    And I was going to make the point about her realizing she wasn’t good enough for you, too, before I saw that andygirl had already. We all make those kinds of mistakes with people. Don’t beat yourself up. And don’t give up. Just learn a lesson or two and try again.

    Hugs,
    Michelle

  5. September 15, 2010 2:48 PM

    Forget her! I recommend a night on the sofa with a good movie and bowl of paint chips.

  6. D mama permalink
    September 15, 2010 2:58 PM

    I can see the whole thing playing out as I used to be a sort of rachel including the drug dealing friends, amphetamine fun and dating several people simultaneously. But first, I am deeply insulted that you are implying my morals may be questionable. My favorite personal quality is my high moral stature.

    Seriously, I can see the scene playing out and all you have is your frankness and honesty to blame. I can see that when she recounted to you her drug dealing friend and her joys of amphetamine highs, you probably did not even crack a smile to let her know you’d be happy to be with someone like that. Did you respond with a sincere, “That sounds great!” Or a wide smile? Good riddance. 🙂

  7. September 15, 2010 3:11 PM

    Thank you for sharing this. You’re hilarious while being open and insightful — very fun to read!

    It may be obvious, but it seems as if you might want to consider getting more cats. I’d have to do some research to figure out how many it would take to pile up to the height of a high horse, but it’s clearly more than two.

    We, for example, have five cats, and I’m guessing they might stack to four or five feet. (Of course, getting them to stack would be a feat in itself.)

    By the way, what is a “high horse”? Is it a tall horse? Or is it a horse that is high on, say, methamphetamines? Just curious.

  8. September 15, 2010 3:36 PM

    you shouldn’t have to “share” anyone! Especially with a freak who would like a girl named “assy” lol….

    I would consider it to be a compliment that you weren’t her type!

    Wasn’t meant to be….don’t look and it will happen!

  9. The Good The Bad & The Random permalink
    September 15, 2010 3:41 PM

    i hope she at least paid for dinner… and if it makes you feel any better i think the name alyssa sounds like a dirty stripper. dirty assy.

  10. September 15, 2010 3:43 PM

    Being a crazy cat lady myself, I agree with aeol, getting more cats will enable your high horse to be quite a bit taller, unless maybe it was the methamphetamine’s from the chick that you in fact needed to complete a high horse.. in which case, I’m sorry she dumped you. More cats will not help.

  11. September 15, 2010 3:54 PM

    That sucks. I totally understand the problem with cat pyramids never being high enough. I was going to suggest you get a pair of Rag Dolls, instead, since those cats are so damned big. But then, I remembered that they’re also pretty damned boneless.

    So… pfft, yeah, good luck getting a sufficiently high Rag Doll pyramid to fall from….

  12. September 15, 2010 4:27 PM

    toasted paintchips, wine, cats. all better than whorey methmouth rachel. you know.

  13. September 15, 2010 4:38 PM

    Ooh, I hope you gave her mono. Mono sucks balls – and that’s the very last thing a lesbian wants to suck.

    Also: I have a bad habit of taking up with cocaine users; don’t make tweakers your new thing. ❤

  14. September 15, 2010 4:49 PM

    Ok – two things:

    1. Clearly this Rachel person has damaged her brain cells with all her drug use so she can “F” off…unless your Rachel is THE Rachel like in Maddow then you should probably have begged her to stay cuz she’s the hottest Rachel I know even if she is a meth addict.

    2. Until reading through all your comments, I had no idea the world was so full of crazy cat people. A little freaked out now. I don’t think Rachel Maddow has a cat though so maybe it’s better you two split.

    XXXOOO 🙂

  15. September 15, 2010 4:55 PM

    search on line for some “skin thickening agent”. additional benefit to keeping you reasonably safe from the emotional roller coaster, it provides a first line of defense barrier against sexually transmitted diseases. here’s to that bowl of “Roasty Paint Chips” cereal… can i bring the milk?

  16. September 15, 2010 5:12 PM

    Witty lady…I can’t wait to read more. 6

  17. September 15, 2010 6:15 PM

    Having lowered my standards in the past to date and live with for many years a drug user with shady, slutty friends, you got off easy. I know it sucks that she said goodbye first, but she honestly did you a favor. It’s far too easy to get sucked into bad situations for much longer than you intend, in my experience. Far better to be casual with someone with less baggage who can provide more trouble-free fun.

    I’d love to see a photo of you attempting to stack Teva and Isabel!

  18. September 15, 2010 6:38 PM

    Well gosh that sucks. The least she could have done was have sex with you before the break-up. A really good Meth-whore would have.

    Don’t give up…When I gave up all hope of finding a woman who I thought I’d like enough to marry one day she walked right into the bar and into my life. Funny thing is…she doesn’t drink. Yeah for designated drivers 🙂

  19. September 15, 2010 6:57 PM

    Must agree with other posters. More cats is always the answer.

    You are a fantastic writer. If I did not have a girlfriend and a child, I would do you.

  20. That Girl permalink
    September 15, 2010 7:07 PM

    I feel that I am doing dating wrong after I read your stories. I can’t even get ladies who are recreational meth users to check me out, let alone snog.

    I can’t cat stack. How can I make a high horse then?

    Ladies, I will start eating paint chips if the snogging doesn’t commence!!

  21. September 15, 2010 7:42 PM

    Well, I’m not one to judge.

    No. Seriously, NOT one to judge. I’ve had my share of crazy-time infatuations. Other people’s shares, too.

    Sorry that yours left you without sexually gratifying you. That, I think, is far worse than the whole drug use thing.

  22. September 15, 2010 10:24 PM

    I think you are getting quite efficient.

    But it is true, getting to know someone before the sex is usually how you don’t get laid 😦

    Usually, not always…if you do get laid its because you met that someone right?

    Sooooo…either don’t get to kow them just get laid, or keep on holding out for someone worthy of continuing to want to get to know.

    That girl knew you were slumming, kid. That’s why she let you go, you are not a recreational drug user/casual realtionship having/lowlife associating with kinda chic, and she knew it.

    And so do we.

  23. Melanie permalink
    September 15, 2010 11:25 PM

    Dude, when pregnant women laugh, they literally pee their pants. I mean, we’re not talking buckets or anything, but still. So, thanks for that. It’s really unfortunate you were dumped by the crank-snorting, two-timing whore, what with the clock ticking on your lady bits and all, but on the bright side, I hear you have a GREAT gynecologist. 🙂

  24. September 15, 2010 11:32 PM

    i bet she was hot. the naughty ones always are.

    that probably didn’t make you feel better. so, um, looks fade? right. and generally, meth addictions do not.

    • September 23, 2010 11:33 AM

      True story.

      In fact, meth addictions encourage looks to fade sooner.

  25. September 16, 2010 6:05 AM

    If you were talking to her about having recently been on a high-horse, then maybe she thought you were actually necking ketamine and she figured that maybe you could bond over your recreational drug-taking… Especially if you were all ‘my high horse is made of cats’ she was probably all ‘that shit sounds awesome – hook me up,’ and didn’t realise that you were actually referring to the metaphorical high-horse and not, taking horse tranquillisers for funzies…

  26. September 16, 2010 7:49 AM

    I think it all comes back to the lack of a childhood pony. Did Rachel have a pony when she was growing up? Probably. Maybe pony = drugs. I think your parents actually did you a favor.

  27. September 16, 2010 2:23 PM

    Ugh I hate dating, don’t you? All of the nonsense. I LOVE that wrote “red flags” (I have a post like that, too, hehe)- I like to think that this 20/20 hindsight will be good for something. Someday. Soon.

  28. September 16, 2010 4:10 PM

    Dude, casual dating is fun but also shitty. I’m glad I tried/am trying it, but now I spend most time trying to figure out how to end it with the one who is full of red flags while also plumbing new depths in the field of trying to make someone stop liking you because you’d rather get dumped than vice versa.

    This doesn’t have a whole lot of relevance to your post; I just wanted to tell someone. I’d invite you to my house for a pity party, but I don’t keep any paint chips or even movies around.
    s

  29. September 16, 2010 4:19 PM

    She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Let assy enjoy her.
    You’re better off without her.

  30. The General (aka: Mommy) permalink
    September 16, 2010 7:09 PM

    Do they have high class lesbian call girl services? Could that possibly be the answer to your casual dating predicament? 😉

    Sorry about Rachel. She’s obviously a stupid bitch.

  31. September 16, 2010 9:19 PM

    As someone who has done meth and liked it (but not in a very very long time – I just need to clarify so that you or child services doesn’t come in and steal my baby) she probably doesn’t even remember she broke up with you. Her mind was probably running like 800 miles per hour and it short circuited and she thought you were assy…I mean Alyssa. Also, as a previous meth imbiber, and thus familiar with the likes of meth dealers and users, I can say that in about a years time or more she will have like 2 teeth and be all kinds of shaky and probably go by the street name of “Scabby.” So, yea, she did you a favor. Although I’m sorry that she hurt you.

  32. Andrea Kierney permalink
    September 16, 2010 11:35 PM

    as both a writer and cat enthusiast myself I often ponder…
    what IS the difference between a cat and, say, a comma? oh yes: one has claws before the paws and the other has the clause before the pause. you’re cute.

  33. iarewearingthejeanpant permalink
    September 17, 2010 3:33 AM

    The last three letters of Rachel’s name spells “HEL” which is probably what a relationship with her would have been like. (Okay, you need another ‘L’ to *actually* spell “HELL”, but hey, who’s counting?) And besides, you wouldn’t have wanted ol’ meth-mouth anywhere close to your privates, so count yourself lucky she *didn’t* do you any “other” favors.

    However, breaking up is STILL hard to do. my condolences.

  34. jessicainthenow permalink
    September 17, 2010 9:41 AM

    ew. I hate girls named Rachel and Alyssa.

    on to the next one!!!

  35. September 17, 2010 11:42 AM

    Is it wrong to admit that if I went on a date with someone who mentioned a drug dealer friend that I’d immediately start doing a scale in my head between the likeliness of being killed versus the awesomeness of the blog post I’d write about being part of a deal gone wrong?

    • September 17, 2010 6:33 PM

      You are so cute and silly. I (may) have (allegedly) done (conducted) hundreds of drug deals (over a couple of decades) and never been in any danger of being killed (or killing anyone).

      Of course , it was never meth.

      Meth.

      Who does that?

  36. September 17, 2010 5:44 PM

    I’m thinking about your vagina too now!
    I’m trying HARD to be a lesbian so I can come scoop you up in Harvard square (wherever that is) and ride into the sunset with you on, not a high horse, but a regular horse made out of a few cats stacked in a pyramid shape. It could work.

    I’m guessing this druggy whore didn’t like you because she wasn’t aware of your sleeping gear. You gotta advertise that shit. You gotta sell it, sister. I mean, over your Indian meal did you once say, ‘Hey, sexy meth babe… why don’t we head back to my place so you can see my ratty Obama shirt.’? And then purr?

    Damn. I need to coach you.
    Also, this might make you feel better: http://www.drugfree.org/portal/drugissue/methresources/faces/photo_3.html

    • September 17, 2010 6:34 PM

      Stop thinking of her vagina. Right now. You’ll wake it up.

      • September 17, 2010 6:42 PM

        Not possible. My vagina has been in a very deep hibernation since before Bush left office.

        Also, apologies for saying “very deep” in reference to my vagina. And “Bush.”

      • October 10, 2010 8:26 AM

        I don’t know how to tell you this, but, in Australia we call undeveloped wilderness … “Virgin Bush”. So, Jessica, it could be worse, you could be AUSTRALIAN. And your bush could be virgin. Sorry.

  37. BeneathTheSpinLight permalink
    September 17, 2010 8:26 PM

    I’m glad that I’m not the only one who sees someone who is ABSOLUTELY toxic but I can’t walk away until they tell me it’s over. At least we’ve all got some good stories, right? You more than most.
    Also, this post really made me want salsa…

  38. September 18, 2010 6:32 AM

    you should keep in touch with her. you could call her over when you need the grout scrubbed with a toothbrush, or you books arranged in color and hue. I hear tweekers are good at that.

  39. September 18, 2010 7:54 PM

    Rachel’s a meth junkie with bad taste in side-dishes: “Alyssas” are always skanky and self-righteous. She seemed like one giant walking, breating, bad decision-making red flag.

  40. September 18, 2010 11:21 PM

    Methy cheating Rachels NEVER lead to anything good. Trust your gut! You’re much better off now. Excellent blog by the way; great writing! I’m hooked now 🙂

  41. September 20, 2010 12:07 PM

    Oh I am so sorry! You’ve said it yourself: she probably did you a favor, but it still sucks. I hope you feel better as the days go by. I’d keep Mango over Alyssa. What kind of name if spelt backwards starts with ASS?

  42. September 21, 2010 2:40 PM

    I like you. I really. Really. Like you.

  43. September 21, 2010 10:00 PM

    if it makes you feel any better, judging from the meth-heads hanging around our corners here in baltimore (“the city that reads!”), rachel’s gonna look like she’s about 78 years old in about…yeah, two years. so i wouldn’t even worry about it.

  44. September 22, 2010 6:56 AM

    Wow, that sucks. If you get her drunk or high enough, you never know, you may have a shot.

  45. September 22, 2010 10:07 AM

    You ever had one of those days?

    You know, where you read something or see something and then weirdly feel rejected by a stranger you’ve never even met, but kinda thought you were cool enough to be friends with online?

    But then you find out that stranger likes everyone except you?

    I’m having one of those days.

    And I can’t post about it on my blog.

    ‘Cause it’s a blog, and not a livejournal account.

    But I thought I’d tell you.

    As you’re awesome.

    And I think we could be friends.

    Unless I’m still not cool enough.

    At which point, I’d probably prefer you wait until tomorrow to tell me.

    Also?

    I think Gerald has run away.

    Which makes me very, very sad.

    Damn groundhogs.

    They just worm their way into your heart.

    Then leave you all alone.

    Clearly I need to stop typing.

    So…

    The End.

    • September 23, 2010 11:46 AM

      In future, you should txt me. I will totally cheer you up 🙂 ❤

      ( We had a hedge hog. Then he ran away. I feel your pain *hug* )

  46. September 22, 2010 9:46 PM

    *splutter*

    This cheered me up enormously. I think, all told, that you scored a win here! Escape! Escape!

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