Years ago before I met my current love (and final if he puts a ring on it #nosidebaguettes) I dated a guy named Ryan. Ryan was a sports agent I met at my network holiday party and immediately had a thing for. He was charming, mysterious and had a way of insulting and complimenting you all at the same time which for some reason seemed attractive. I have never been someone who is perpetually into “bad boys” because I have a brain and a low tolerance for bullshit. I can’t stand girls who self diagnose themselves with a “thing for bad boys”. I usually find girls who say this also have a thing for (un)inspirational quotes, excess emojis, vodka cranberries and Victoria’s Secret PINK sweats which is a whole other dissapointment. Smart bitches don’t date bad boys, they just cant be bothered. But even smart bitches have lapses in judgement… I am only human after all.
It was my E! holiday party with about 76 million people from the network. I hadn’t planned on going assuming it would just be a huge cluster fuck of people and my roommate who was supposed to be my date had a family emergency. How inconvenient to have your fucking cat die the day of my party. What a whore. Now dateless, I sat alone while binge watching Glee and sipping boxed wine contemplating whether or not I should rally. After a couple glasses of that fucking Franzia and one too many gay Rachel Berry solo’s I knew I needed to sack up and get my ass to that party. What I lacked in sobriety I made up for in false confidence as I threw myself in a cab and strutted into the party solo. Trying to seem approachable and made for reality tv I sipped my drink and scanned the room for fried appetizers and familiar faces… 0 for 2. Luckily I did spot an In N Out truck towards the back which made the solo mission worth every effort in itself. I elbowed people left and right to make my way to nirvana aka me with a double-double cheeseburger (NOT fucking protein style). Much to my dismay, the truck had a line from here to Malaysia. I somehow finagled my way to the front and got my burger which I inhaled and then decided it was time for me to bone out. I headed to the front and waited for my cab driver to arrive when Ryan approached me. “I have never seen anybody light up for a cheeseburger the way you just did” Chic. He asked for my number and told me he wanted to take me to a secret burger joint that would be sure to blow my mind. After some hesitation he then concluded I should “eat as many burgers as I can before it all catches up to me” #charming. For some reason in my carnivorous cheap alcohol haze this seemed SUPER attractive.
The next Saturday night Ryan and I met for our first date. The burger was a total stomach boner, conversation flowed and I’ll be honest -he was very easy on the eyes. For some reason I felt I was the right girl to whip Ryan into shape and bust him on all his bullshit. Maybe it was just because he was confusing, loved a good dirty martini and understood the importance of large portion sizes that attracted me. We immediately started casually dating. He had alerted me he would be doing a lot of traveling in the next month for a “client” in Boston but didn’t want us to see other people.
After a week into his business trip, my roommate and I went out for drinks. I suggested a restaurant he had taken me too just before he left for Boston that had truffle fries I would sell an ovary for. As I looked around the dimly lit, over crowded restaurant I spotted a hunk who looked freakishly like Ryan. Half jokingly I told my roommate I thought I spotted Ryan and she insisted I call and tell him he may have a long lost twin and see what he is up to. I dialed him and was bewildered to see his clone pick up the phone from across the restauraunt “Hey babe, whats up?” and majestically lip every word I was hearing on the phone. “So… how is Boston?” “It’s great but I can’t wait to come back and see you.” “I’m sure it will be sooner than you think doll! Anyways gotta go – bye!” Holy fuckballs. THE CLONE WAS RYAN VERY MUCH IN THE FLESH AND VERY MUCH STILL IN LOS ANGELES. Even worse, he was surrounded by a middle eastern harem of girls cloaked in Herve Leger (knockoff) bandage dresses and probably daddy drama. I immediately started sweating and hyperventilating. I had never been in this situation before and had only dreamed of the opportunity of a very public and dramatic break up scene. We had only been dating for a few weeks so the sting was not that severe but I wanted to make this fucker PAY. After my roommate and I got refills and headed to revenge headquartes aka the ladies room we decided to send him a note and observe from afar. I contemplated throwing a drink in his face and publicly shaming him but this place had the best dirty martini this side of the Mississippi so I needed to be able to show my face there again.
To make an event out of my betrayal, we decided to order an expensive bottle of champagne (on his tab) and park our asses in a dark corner of the outdoor patio to watch this shitshow go down. Being the mature lady that I am, I decided to write an anonymous note on a napkin, fold it up and have our waiter bring it to him. The note read “You’re a fucking liar. Also, only douche bags drive corvettes. I am watching you.” When he got the note a huge smile spread across his face being the insanely egotistical fucktard he is, thinking some girl was giving him his number. As he read the note he immediately sunk in his chair and looked around next level paranoid. What a dumbfuck. I then followed with another note that read “Thanks for the Vueve. Hope Boston is fabulous. I will assume your plane crashed on the way home so do not bother contacting me. Big kiss, Jackie.” We then left the dark depths of our creepy corner and walked directly in his eye line. We made eye contact and I could see him simultaneously schvitzing and shitting his pants. I mouthed a “fuck you” followed with a friendly wave and never heard from him again.
Last night, good ol Ryan sent me a text letting me know he “loved my blog and was glad to see I was doing well” which prompted this lovely little tale which I am sure he is delusionally flattered by and will send around to all of his friends. Ryan, I am super glad you love my blog. I think you are a little bitch and wish you, your receding hairline and little girl hands an amazing life. XOX
**update: within 5 minutes of posting this Ryan blocked me on Facebook and unfollowed me on Instagram. The truth hurts bitch.