Monday, January 24, 2011

The First One To Pop Off

It has happened to me now more times than I can count, hence why I've coined the term "Wife Fluffer" and loved it and hold it bravely over my head, or across my chest. Probably across my chest since I have huge knockers and it would get noticed there more... yes, across my chest... "WIFE FLUFFER." Anywho, it happens in every great dating gal's life when one of her beau's decides to get down on one knee and look lovingly up into the woman of his dream's eyes and ask that one question that she's been longing to hear. Only thing is, that person isn't you and you're the one getting the text message. Well, that's at least how I heard about my first major "pop off" (Definition:  (1) to finish a sexual act with a completed orgasm (2) a very badly quoted term from "The Bad Girls Club" (3) propose marriage to some bitch.)

I will never forget the man, nor the moment.
The man, we'll call him Lucky (our first date was on St. Patrick's day, I really am a softy at heart,) was older than I was and held most of my first experiences under his belt. Not that the first is always the best, many times that is completely false, but the first is always remembered, if not laughed about for the rest of your life. So anyway, Lucky and I had a passionate bit of a relationship that lasted until he decided he was going to move across the country to be an actor, or paddle boats, or find God... I don't remember. All I remember is that I was 17 and moving and a relationship didn't mix so it had to end. I cried about Lucky but said goodbye and missed him a lot because he was gone forever and upset that I couldn't hang on while he was on the other side of the US. The only thing is, Lucky didn't stay gone for very long, he came limping back to our state (I guess paddling boats doesn't pay too well,) but was still hell bent at not letting me back into his heart since I let his go. He did, however, let me into his pants. This started years of back and forth in my head of trying to seduce him to come back with me, and him just using me for a great (hey... it's my story!) lay here or there. Through this somehow I did not become Lucky's girlfriend, but was Lucky's best friend (oh joy.) All kidding aside, Lucky did go through some very difficult things in life and would only let me in and no one else in his life, which really did mean a hell of a lot to me. But enough of that bullshit and on with the story...

So I'm in my mid twenties and I'm still friend's with Lucky. Lucky is still up to his old tricks of dating girls 1/3 his age. I thought I was young when we dated (I was 17, he 23) but he kept going lower. Living in a college town was a good place for Lucky, prime pickin' for him there and he sounded happy with what he was doing. He would date girls here and there for sprints of time but nothing that ever seemed to last or seemed to have any sort of passion behind it. So here I am, in my car driving to work and I hear the all familiar "chhirrpp" of my phone telling me I have a text message. I lean down, not thinking I'm about to get a message that is going to make my arms feel like they've fallen off of my body and my inner 17 year old girl take a breath that was too deep for her own good. I look down to see the simple message:

"I'm engaged."

You wouldn't think that two words typed could make the blood rush out of your face and down your body like it did to me, but it did. I didn't know how to reply. I didn't know what to do. I pulled over and cried and was upset, and because I'm me and I'm honest and I was there for what I was with Lucky I was honest and selfish and I wrote back:

"That made me cry"

This girls, is what you don't do. I did it and I regret it. I needed to pull on my big girl panties and tell him I was happy for him and his soon to be nagging bitch. So what if I wasn't that nagging bitch to be? Did I really want to be that person? I hadn't seen him in a year or so, and I had dated other people myself. I was being selfish and he was one of my close friends and I was a shit friend. 

Lucky is a good guy and I've apologized for my lapse of judgment in that moment (only one I've EVER had, swear.) And since then I've figured out how to gracefully accept when other ex's pop off and you get the information, either directly, or indirectly. 

1.: When you first get the news, smile and breath and count to 10. Take in the information and don't say a fucking word until your head stops spinning and you can formulate a proper sentence. 

2.: If you need another 10 and a vodka gimlet, take it.

3.: Now that you're more composed, if you're in front of "he who popped off" refrain from giving a hug that is a-kin to a cold fish and includes back patting. If you're going to give him a hug, then you've got to own it and do it without tears and with your head held high.

4.: Now, say how happy you are for him while you look him straight dead in the eye. Difficult, I know, but a very important step. Men think you're lying if you look away. So, lie and look right at him. 

5.: Say something positive about the new hen in the house. Something, anything you can think of (unless you don't know her at all, then you'll come off as a weird stalker.) 

6.: Walk away gracefully and know that you dodged that bullet. Also, grab a drink if you need one, and your nearest best girlfriend too, she'll be good to have when you feel the need to go out hunting for another man in about 5 minutes.

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