The other day, I was at a friend’s house. He didn’t have much to eat in the way of food so I was hungry and irritable by the time we sat down to discuss the incredible shrinking flavor profile of his favorite soda. The front door was open to let some cross breeze into the apartment because AC isn’t cheap. It wasn’t long before my attention drifted outside.
Before me, just beyond the steps that led up from street level, lay a small garden patch full of scraggly grass and flowers desperately trying to survive in urban Nevada. Some dirty kids had come along and wrecked it with their baseball game further stomping on any possibility for life to take hold there once more. I imagined what it would look like in a few months if this wasn’t stopped.
“Don’t worry,” my friend said, “We’ll get it fixed up again. I’m going to make sure the landlord does his job and gets people out here to fix it.”
It had been weeks since our last conversation about how he needed to follow up with the landlord on that very issue. I thought of the way home and the steps along the way that were littered with garbage and broken glass. Our city is full of such little microcosms that each gives insight into just what kind of pain we are allowing to trudge through our lives day-by-day. They also show us where we can do better for ourselves and for others who walk these streets alongside us.
“You should be more aggressive about it,” I said, “Grow some balls and go kick that guy’s ass.”
“I can’t do that!” he shot back indignantly as if it was the most ludicrous suggestion ever. “He’s my landlord! It would cause problems for me.”
It didn’t take long to figure out what this really meant: He had no intention of fixing anything and by him not doing his part in our little community we were all going to suffer for it. And we did because nothing got done and nothing got better. I stopped coming over there and started spending more time at the house of another friend who actually had a working stove with which to cook food on occasion.
In the life of a woman, there comes a time when she must trade in her dependability. But somewhat dim boyfriend for a scummy strip club owner that is twenty years her senior. In doing so, she will have made herself unsalvageable. And only worthy of living in a house with water damage and at least one rodent.
So how does one pull this off?
Mention the condition of your house far too late for your ex to do anything about it. It’s not his problem anymore! Does he expect you to just move out if he can’t be bothered to fix things? That would just leave you homeless! What kind of person doesn’t care about people sleeping on their floor?!
If opting for method A, add in a detail that makes the house sound cheap and disgusting. This will ensure your ex knows just how bad things have gotten without you. It’s important to bring up when his new girlfriend is around. So she can see what kind of person she’s getting involved with! The extra drama will make it all the more satisfying when the strip club owner dumps her.
When you’ve realized you’ve still got feelings for your man-child pal because he hasn’t been going out at night. And showing off his new hot piece of ass, explain why that is in painstaking detail. Make sure to mention how he prefers spending time with his daughter. Or being obsessed with some old video game or whatever it is.
Or any of those things with “or whatever it is”. Just make sure you mention something that makes him sound like a complete loser. Who has ZERO opportunity to get a girl without your help! This way, when he gets angry at the idea that you’re trying to sabotage his relationship and demands to know what’s going on. You can tell him how petty and mean he’s being before changing the subject. Because you’re too sensitive for this kind of treatment! If done correctly, this will ensure no one ever speaks to you again. As they’ll assume there’s something really wrong with YOU even though it isn’t your fault or anything!
Blaming yourself never makes anyone feel better. And self-esteem issues are the best!