All this time I was still seeing a guy from college who once took abandoned boxer shorts from a locker room.
He was unnecessarily frugal and made me pay for everything. This included asking me to pay his phone bills; even though he was the one who called me.
When he still hadn’t found a job after college graduation, Boxer started to make rumblings that maybe he had to make some changes. I knew it was coming, but I had never been dumped.
When he visited toward the end of the summer; forlorn, as was his normal mien, he took me into my room, shut the door and broke up with me. It especially burned because I had spent a lot of lunch breaks reading “Dune”, which he told me I had to read but wanted back right away.
I begged him to reconsider. I sang him “I Can’t Make You Love Me.” Ultimately squawking Bonnie Raitt in a distorted sensual whisper didn’t get him to change his mind. Nope. He had a life to start living without me.
When he left, Boxer took some tchotchke faux-ivy league furniture that I had saved from the trash during Brooks Brothers’ remodeling. Plus, my pirated Totally 80s tapes. He also bought new sneakers with my credit card.
I was pissed. I knew he wasn’t the one, but god damn it; I want him to think I am!
I called his friends and complained. He called to explain I was making them uncomfortable and to never call his friends again.
Peter, one never to miss an opportunity to offer advice and/or quote Dorothy Parker, reminded me that “living well is the best revenge.” I hated when he was right.
Boxer did send me a hundred dollar check a couple months later with a note saying that if we had stayed together he might well have just proposed. Well, that was certainly a big strange leap.
Also, he asked me not to cash the check for a while.
He had insufficient funds.