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Dumped: Sex & the Pity

Tales of being dumped and dumping

* * *

I spent 11 years of my life with a woman so evil it seemed she was possessed by demons that flew out of Satan's ass. I'm not here to claim any kind of holier-than-thou status. I freely admit to being a terrible booze-slut. But at least I'm a fun drunk. The worst thing I do whilst obnoxicated is stumble around naked singing doo-wop songs very badly and make a general ignoramus of myself. However, an abbreviated litany of this woman's drunken behavior includes the following:

• She liked to pinch babies when their parents weren't looking. Hard.

• She screwed or attempted to screw almost half of my friends.

• When I tried to stop her from driving while blind drunk by standing in front of her car, she ran me over.

• She tried to stab me with a huge kitchen knife for pouring her bottle of vodka down the drain.

• She horked on me in the middle of the night without even waking up from her drunken stupor on several occasions, and sometimes she pissed the bed.

• She stole booze from the restaurant she worked at so many times they fired her.

I loved her, I cared about her, I worried about her, but something had to give as her alcoholism worsened and she refused to do anything about it. So finally, after 11 long years, I dumped her. Kicked her out into the cold, cruel world. I felt like a heel, but it had to be done. Two weeks later, she moved in with a cop she'd met in a local dive bar. Two weeks after that, she showed up at my door, tears running down her pretty little face, stitches running from her pretty little forehead to the bridge of her pretty little nose. The cop had grabbed her by the hair and smashed her face against the wall. In 11 years of torment, after all the booze-trauma she'd laid on me, I managed to never kick this woman's ass. Two weeks with this cop, and he caved her face in. My first inclination was to send scary friends of mine over to break the fucker's legs. Then I thought better about it. Why had I bothered dumping her in the first place if I was still going let her bullshit ruin my life? She was his problem now. Tuff tittie, bitch. That moment of revelation was perhaps the greatest freedom I have ever felt in my life, and I haven't spoken to her in the nine years since. Now I'm happily married with a beautiful baby girl, and my wife also enjoys stumbling around naked and singing doo-wop songs very badly after a few drinks. You see, happy endings do happen. (Buddy Seigal)

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