When She Dates A Douchebag

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When she dates a douchebag, don’t give up hope.

Goodbye cruel world! No no no – not just yet; not today my friend. Get off
the balcony ledge, put down the whiskey, and for fuck’s sake, stop staying
up late obsessing over her Facebook pictures, trying to judge by the way
she’s kissing his cheek if they’ve done it or not yet. Wait – yet?!

But don’t go kamikaze. It sucks to not have the girl — it really hurts.
Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca is one miserable dude. And any decent guy
who’s been in and out of love a time or two can commiserate like crazy with
him. But the movie’s not over – the ring’s not on her hand, and if the guy
really is that much of a tool, he’s bound to screw it up at some point
anyway. So go learn karate or how to fix a car in the meantime. When she’s
done with Captain D-is-for-dumbass, be ready to show her that you are all
that is man! (I.E., dress like Don Draper and play guitar in a rocking band
and feed orphans on the weekend and ride a motorcycle…That’s a start.)

2) Idiots come and go. Lovers remain.

And when I say lovers here, I mean the altruistic romantics. The true men.
The guys who go down with the Titanic. Never undervalue self sacrifice. In
all your moaning and self pity, remember to stop and realize that the world,
shockingly, does not revolve around you and your love life. Looking outside
is a start. Taking an interest in someone else’s equally miserable love life
is both a good start on the practice of self denial, and kind of a nice pick
me up at the same time. Listen to their sob story over a beer. Pretty soon,
you’ll realize that you actually have it pretty good.

Now, learn how to serve. Practice doing things for somebody else. Hold a
door. Don’t snap at the guy in the drive-thru. Feed your goldfish on time.
Think about what she wants — not what you want her to want — what she
wants. It’s counter intuitive. Practice.

Because when she leaves the greasy D-bag, and she shall, it will be
because he is a selfish bastard. Selfishness is the destroyer of every
relationship, every time. She’ll realize, sooner or later, that he never
really put her first, because when you’re a douchebag, your primary concern
is your own douchebaggery: your status at the gym, your car, your hair, how
many buttons are open on your polo, and how much chest hair you should show.
And when she realizes this, she’ll be done. And you’ll be waiting. And for a
change, it won’t be about you. It will be about her. And that, is awesome.

3) BUT, what if she picks HIM?! Ok, THEN it’s time to booze.

The flip side. What if she stays with Captain D? What if she moves in? What
if she marries him?

Say it ain’t so.

At that point, the bottle and a pack of Marb Reds and a one-way ticket to
Belize may be in proper order. But wait a minute, is it possible
that… wait for it… you misjudged her? Is it possible that in all your
Gatsby-esque daydreaming romantic grandeur you lost sight of who she
actually is? Is it possible that she is after all, human and prone to the
same shitty judgement as, well, the rest of us?

She is human. She does err. And if she errs big time, it is entirely likely
that she wasn’t all that great in the first place. I know you don’t want to
face it, but you’ve got to. It is possible that she was (and I’ll say this
slowly), NOT. THAT. SPECIAL.

Ghandi said that action expresses priorities. If her action says that she
really does like the dumbass – well, just remember it takes one to know one.

So don’t be afraid to let it go. If the cards are down and the chips are in,
and she’s still sitting on his lap – then it’s time to cash out. It’s a sad
thing to leave the game. It hurts to leave her there, to check her at the
mental door. But she’s got to make her decision – and reality must roll on.

At which point, it’s time to put on a Tom Petty record, close your eyes,
lean back, and let the words wash you… “It’s time to move on. To get
goin’. What lies ahead that I have no way of knowin’…”

Now get going. 

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