fetardation iii

In discussing the Fetardation post last week, I realized that I haven't published the tale of my final seconds with the Approval Whore (AW). It's post-worthy. I'm tellin.'

When she first left her husband, the predictable surge of losers appeared. Having waited their turn in her queue, they were now hoping for promotion. Loser-in-Chief was Todd. He was huggy. He was drippy. He signed work emails to her "Much love, Todd." He constantly lobbied to go out so he could better comfort her in her time of need. When I was out of town, she granted him a lunch, and he took her to the premiere "this cost so much, you owe me sex" establishment within driving distance of Microsoft. And of course, he paid.

It was around then that I started asking for the AW to acknowledge what his interests were. She refused. They were just friends. Moreover, I was an irredeemable sack of shit (I'm summarizing) for thinking that it was more than that. Meanwhile, Todd send her photos of his gorgeous new girlfriend, whom no one would ever actually meet. The AW and I would fight about Todd's intentions until the very bloody end.

• • •

Years later, near the end of internment with the AW, I detected the presence of someone else. Her affections were clearly going elsewhere. Any mention of the future, any compliment, any bouquet of daisies from me made her supremely uncomfortable. So naturally, I poured it on. It was great fun, torturing this deserving woman. I entertained my friends with tales of how the slightest gestures of kindness caused her to visibly implode.

"Hey, honey," I cooed sweetly, having just discovered the receipt for two tickets for a New Year's Eve event. "What say we go to Times Square for New Year's? My treat?"

"GAAAAACK!" she replied, fleeing the room.

Eventually, of course, she could hide it no more. Two days before they would be seen grinding on the dance floor at the company party, she called to clarify that we were "just friends." As if we were even that much at that point.

I knew there was someone else, but I didn't know until the day after the party that it was, in fact, Todd. All his years of hard work had finally paid off. I couldn't help but admire his success.

The next day, I went to the AW's house to collect my things once and for all. She was in the shower. On her bathroom mirror, I used soap to draw a heart with their initials inside. And then I left, never to return.

• • •

A few months later, a mutual friend corrected me when I spoke of the AW cheating on me like she had every other guy in her history. "No she didn't," the friend corrected. "She told me that they were just friends until a month later."

Exquisite in her consistency, ain't she?