“Realizing your ex-boyfriend’s new fiance is a complete downgrade: PRICELESS.“
Dating someone who has been best friends with your cousin since childhood can have its perks – a free background check, a built-in third wheel, and a GPS to the inner workings of his dirty little mind. But the downside, which you never really think about until he turns into a 30 year-old manchild and dismantles your heart with his bare hands (bitter much?), is that you’ll have to see him again and again and AGAIN. In my case its every March – for my cousin’s birthday dinner. Last year was a complete d-i-s-a-s-t-e-r. The night ended like beginning of a horror film – a girl at a bar in an unfamiliar town hitches a ride home with two very handsome strangers to avoid being trapped in a car alone with her ex-boyfriend and his now fiancée. (Luckily they wanted to make a sequel so I survived to tell the tale.)
So what possessed (I am trying to keep the horror theme here) my nearest and dearest cousin to invite him and his fiancée to her birthday dinner this year WITHOUT telling me? Apparently she missed the part in my RSVP that said: please don’t invite to your birthday dinner the man that I thought I was going to marry with the woman he actually is going to marry. I’ll make sure to s-p-e-l-l it out for her next year.
So to help others who find themselves in the same no-win situation survive without needing 1. a rescue mission lead by the finest Navy Seals, 2. a hostage negotiator, or 3. a ridiculously expensive therapy session – I am sharing a few life-saving tips on how to have dinner with your ex-boyfriend without reaching over and choking (to death) his new fiancé.
1. Champagne. To everyone else it will look like you are celebrating the birthday at hand, when you are really just trying to occupy your hands with something other than her neck. (Only 1-2 glasses of champagne are recommended – just enough to take of the edge off, but not enough to bestow liquid courage because we both know that it will soon become liquid rage. And we ALL know how that ends…in handcuffs).
2. An ally. Someone who you can kick under the table when you find out that their wedding is next month. (Sorry J.)
3. The location of a nearby bar with an array of man candy, think Baskin Robbins but with 31 flavors of men – or women if you prefer. Trust me after this dinner you are going to need a non-Weight Watchers approved dessert – I chose a double scoop of vanilla topped with sleeve tattoos and a drizzle of swagger.
And, in case you were wondering, my dessert was F. L. G. – Finger. Licking. Good.
(If you like this, then you’ll LOVE “It’s my birthday bitches!” That line always leads to trouble. ALWAYS.)