Cell phone rang while at work yesterday, and was none too happy to see J’s name on caller ID. What the fuck could J want?
To tell yours truly that he is moving. To tell yours truly that he is moving to her zip code. To her neighborhood. To her street. WHAT? Found self in the middle of one horrible Humphrey Bogart moment, a la Casablanca.
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”
This gal does not live in a small town. No, indeed. Happen to live in a relatively large one, with suburbs a-plenty. And J has to move onto same street, less than a block away? Again, WHAT? Suffered what am certain were my v. first chest pains, strange hot-flash like sensations and overwhelming sense of anger. This is MY gin joint!! Mine! Cannot wait to run into J and New Girl on v. regular basis.
Spent yesterday evening commiserating with now-in-walking-distance B and Thin Blonde Girlfriend. Had been ages since the last time we all sat around, watching less-than Blockbuster of a movie and chatting, and was so v. glad to see them both. TBG was adorable hostess and B, well, must say that co-habitating life seems to be agreeing with him. Felt bad for suffocating them with the “10 Things I Hate About J” session, but is pretty clear that neither of them agree with J’s brilliant moving plans.
Will look into planting v. tall trees around house. Or installing a moat. Indeed, a moat would be just the thing.
Trees?
I would suggest one of these , instead.
B says I can’t get a gun.
oh boy do i ever comiserate. my ex shares the same gin joint of a street, ahem, block, with me! i’ve actually only seen him and the New Girl twice in three months–but from a safe distance with zero interaction. i’m moving within the year, though, so this will dissipate. and i’ve moved on to another boy, so it hurts less. it will hurt less for you, too, sooner than later. but, man, that sucks!
What, no gun! What’s a girl got to do these days, I ask you.
that’s the funny thing about this town– i don’t even see the people that live in my building, let alone the people who live across the street. Chances are pretty good that you’ll never see him.
Unbelievable. But I agree with Mark–bet you rarely notice him or New Girl. Good luck!
I wish that were true… but I live on a very short, one way street… in a compact neighborhood that centers around the best convenience store in the world. I’ll see them. Lots. It’s unavoidable.
UM!
What is the DEAL?!?!
Sometimes boys are so damn ridiculous.
Aww girl..
I feel so bad for you.. Found out last night my ex has a new girl. Am NONE too pleased about it either. so I can’t even imagine having to run into them all the time. Ugh..
On a lighter note, been reading your blog for about 6 months and am enjoying it immensely, thank you so much!
that TOTALLY sucks …. what a FUCKER.
That’s truly awful and kind of mean of him actually. Did you say something?
gotta agree with shannon there. fucker.
Oh.. I failed to mention that I think he’s a complete M-O-R-O-N for moving anywhere near you. What the hell was he thinking!?? How could he possibly think this was a good idea!? People can be so frustrating sometimes.. ARGH!!
How tacky of him! Is his lease finalized? You could always play supersleuth, find his potential landlord and casually drop the hint that J NEVER pays rent on time, if at all. Maybe landlord would think twice about leasing to J.
If you happen to run into him, just smile and be happy that you are rid of him. That’s one “jerky” bike you don’t need to ride… good luck!
When I lived in Beantown, I had a huge crush on a co-worker of mine, and he moved to new apartment two blocks away from me and I didn’t see him once outside of work. Unfortunate for me at the time, but a glimmer of hope for you, yes?
So.
Not.
Cool.
As the so far immortal Smokey Robinson says …
I second that e-moat-shun.
Sorry.
Not even a really small gun like this one? (you know, it’s the one that James Bond uses)
Maybe you could get a rubber man and blow him up and put him in the front seat and drive up and down the street with him. I’m sure J will never know the mysterious man in the car is really rubber man.
That’s rough. Everyone knows that post-breakup we each get custody of our own street. If the breakup involves one person moving out, the moving person gets custody of a new street, presuming it is not already claimed (ex’s parents street, ex’s workplace, etc.) This period of mutual exclusivity extends for the length of the relationship (y) times a factor representing the degree of difficulty (d) of the breakup, times 5.
I dated T. for 1 year, the breakup was a 3, X 5 = so I won’t be moving across the street from her for 15 years.
It’s common sense. Do the math, people.
Fishlette, J clearly is NOT OVER you. If he’s with a new girl he is definitely playing a very nasty game with you *and* her by moving into your neighbourhood. This reminds me of my ex’s old trick of showing up at the coffee shop across from my old workplace with his new girlfriend at the precise time he knew I would be getting coffee. Neither she nor he lived anywhere near the neighbourhood. Bastard.
Listen, fish, this guy can’t stand you not paying attention to him. My advice – I know you hate advice, but… – keep *not* paying him any attention. Also, I will send over a very hunky virtuoso guitarist to be your secret escort. Be sexy. Be indifferent. Be UNAVAILABLE. That pricko.
POND SCUM!!!
Argh! What IS it about exes/former squeezes/former tormentors that WON’T go away?
I emphatise, fish!
what an asshat!
that is not just asshole behavior, that is PSYCHO.
not to mention cruel.
Fish, us guys have wee little brains. This J. dude really has no idea what chaos he brings to your neighborhood.
You need to remember: you are the Goddess. You can make this be as non-trivial as you want. Or, you can be who you are.
Life is what it is…
I moved to France after I broke up with my ex-boyfriend… no chance of bumping into him there. J needs to read the breakup manual more carefully. I believe that section 4 of Appendix B definitely has an “is not allowed to move to the same street” clause that has been conveniently overlooked.
It’s not the actual running into J that is the problem, it’s the daily knowledge that you *might* run into him. You don’t need that on your mind everytime you step out of your door. Sorry you’ve got to deal with that.
A moat – great idea! Even better: get a dragon for the moat. I’d name him Fluffy.
J seems to have issues with the fact that you are moving on with your life. Moving to your block is just un-freaking-believable. The nerve!
you don’t need a gun, fish. if meeting him oh-so-accidentally in the street is inevitable, what you need is a locksmith who owes you a favor, his favorite underwear drawer and a packet of itching powder.
after you’ve watched him squirm for a while you can shoot him.
So B says you’re not allowed to buy a gun. Quite sensible. Wouldn’t want our girl to get into trouble. A fish needs a prison sentence like a woman needs a man.
However, B’s diktat doesn’t mean you can’t buy *someone else with a gun*.
Time to call in The Family, pretty poisson…
Moving in on your gin joint is very not cool. Sounds like you could go for both some gin and a joint right now, eh?
Sounds very suspiciously intentional to me…