I have been on two go-sees since the dissolution of what I’d thought was a relationship; I now realize that I can’t handle disappointment. The thought of meeting another person I have zero chemistry with makes me cry inside; especially when the person I had such FANTASTIC chemistry with chose not to be with me. I can’t help but think, “What did I do wrong?” Countless conversations with myself and friends have confirmed that I did not do anything wrong.
Faced with the prospect of superfluous quality time with my cat and Lifetime Television, I have devised the ultimate broken hearted girl’s survival guide.
- Get your lonely heart a gay boyfriend. Stat!
- Meet him for coffee and let him buy you a slice of mocha, meringue, chocolate cake. Listen to him say things like, “I can’t eat that because I’ll get fat but I totally want to watch you eat it. Yes, REALLY!”
- Be ready for more…”The best thing you’ve ever eaten? EAT. SLOWER.”
- Laugh, laugh, then laugh some more. Damn he’s fucking fun to be with.
- Agree to go to stop by the gay bar for “just one drink” even if you’re wearing a prudish shirt and rubber soled Hush Puppy loafers with socks.
- Don’t let that prudish shirt and rubber soled Hush Puppy loafers with socks stop you from having a good time.
- Allow your gay boyfriend to introduce you to his fabulous little friend (who for the remainder of the list we will call Pretty Young Thang, aka PYT).
- Resist the urge to tell questioning bar patrons that your gay boyfriend is your fiance when they ask if you two are a couple. Unless you see him mouth, “Yuck. TOO OLD.” Then the gloves are off.
- Hold hands with PYT, allow him to pull you through the crowded dance floor, turn around and holler above the music, “Damn girl. I hope you don’t mind me saying so but your boobs are huge!”
- Giggle and laugh when PYT grabs a handful of your boobs, especially since he’s the only guy who will be grabbing your boobs for some time. Unless you count your cat spooning you as male contact.
- Let that smile continue to build when a handful of pretty men on the patio compliment your ass. If there’s a place to get an honest assessment of your ba-donka-dunk, it’s just before last call at the gay bar. That much liquor and god knows what pills…they couldn’t lie if they wanted to.
- Enjoy how much better gay men smell than straight dudes. This is what heaven smells like.
- Allow PYT to take you by the hand when you’re scared to use the bathroom alone because of the insanely large crowd of people who are waiting in line and staring at the numerous pairs of feet in the occupied stalls.
- Politely decline your PYT’s offer to go pee in the same stall together but offer to hold his Adios Motherfucker while he pees. Have a few sips of his cocktail, you’ll need liquid courage to urinate under these conditions.
- Swing your feet back and forth, smiling when PYT tells you that you don’t look thirty-two.
- When PYT asks how old you think he is, reply “twenty-two.” Watch him continue to throw an over exaggerated fit and scream, “TWENTY-TWO?! Seriously? What’s wrong with nineteen? I WANT TO BE IN MY TEENS! TEENS! Huh? Oh yeah, I’m twenty-three.”
- Explain the details of your most recent break up, when prompted. Gloat when PYT freaks out and exclaims, “Who would dump you?! Oh no honey, we’re gonna find you a real man.”
- Beam when your mention of Golden Girls is met with mutual love and adoration of those around you.
- Continue smiling when PYT says, “I like you. I get a good aura from you.” and waves his hands around your head in a circle.
- Follow PYT across the dance floor, take you by the hand and pull you onto the stage, then maul you like a hot little escort to a dance mix of Paula Abdul’s shitty new song and only wish it were “Opposites Attract” for 10% of your stage time.
dude. my gays always get drunk and make out with other dudes and leave me standing there with nothing to do but grope drag queens birdseed boobies and let some guy in a loin cloth rub my body with his until i am saturated with baby oil.
wait a sec. on second thought, that is pretty fuck*ng sweet.
where my gays at?
I concur with the friends… it’s not you.
I’ve always thought that I needed a gay friend, and now, I’m certain of it. While I think I ALMOST have a gay friend, he will not cave and embrace his potential homosexuality. I guess my WISHING he were gay is not incentive enough. Damn.
And if your men loving men can find me a me loving man, I think I’ll ask them to adopt me.
I am quite certain that our go-see will be nothing but magical rainbows and unicorn dreams… NO disappointment there!
I love my gays. They have gotten me through some pretty suckish times.
I used to live in Boystown in Chicago, and seriously, I’ve never felt more beautiful, fun, hilarious than when hanging out at the gay bars around there.
I need to know where to get a gay man friend of my very own.
I know it’s hard to do, but try not to let the rejection get to you. Most of the time, there’s nothing wrong with either party involved in a break up, and maybe there’s no logical explanation for why it didn’t work out. Sometimes the spark is just missing for one or the other of you, and that’s not your fault.
Take this time to have lots of gay fun and maybe do some self-improvement, which always makes me feel better. Think up some achievable goals and go for them. You’ll feel better in no time.
That’s been a problem where I live now. Not enough gay influence. I don’t even know where they are, other than the Vassar campus, but those boys need some time to figure out their own thing before they can guide me through the world of single.
I had a gay husband once. But he was all in the closet and over-compensating and an asshole and stuff.
Normal gay people are much more fun.
Now this is a sitcom I could totally watch week after week.
My grandfather told me he was gay, but he thought it meant “Happy”.
Just once I wish I could be labeled as someone’s Pretty Young Thing. I mean, hell, I’m already pinpointed as being an overly effeminate, nearly gay friend, I think PYT would just seal the deal.
Anyway, good luck with your quest to become the ultimate female friend of the gays, or what do they call that for short…something hag? I can’t remember, but it’s quite catchy.
I have Best Friend Andy, who is also Former Roomie A, and just generally an all-around stand-up guy. He’s not the type to talk about my boobs, but he understands, and we’ve known each other so long, it’s like having a really female-centric brother. It’s hard to explain.
On the other hand, he has the friends who want to dance all night, and talk about your boobs. I am wealthy in the gay-friend department, and grateful for it.
I miss my gay boyfriends. I really really need to find a local one.
As if I needed a reason to have a Paula Abdul song stuck in my head. Awesome. Honestly, you love the new Paula song, but you’re ashamed to admit, fess up.
It’s a good thing those guys are gay because they are way too good looking and would leave average guys with nothing for themselves.
Hetero men’s equivalent to this gay boy friend thing usually is some kind of inanimate object worship, which is pretty sad.
You know, if you get a good gay boyfriend, the “real” i.e. straight thing will pop up, so to speak, and be perfect for you. I’m just sayin’…that’s how things seem to work.
I need to find myself a PYT. Also, #12? So true. So true. Such a shame (for us, I mean… not for them, of course).
Don’t settle for anything less than FANTASTIC CHEMISTRY. Hold out girl. You’re worth it.
I’ve definitely been on the end when I thought I had great Chemistry with someone but they didn’t think the same thing…It was tough, but I made it through. And I love your survival guide! It’s AWESOME!
Gay boyfriends are one of the best inventions ever. I might not have survived my first couple of years as a single girl without mine.
<---- Gay bf.. I feel so loved on this post. Too bad I only have room for one fag hag at a time.
Gay men are the best! I had almost the exact same experience, but it was in Wichita…and my boobs are not huge! My ass is!