All My Exes Rent at Blockbuster

So on my final day, I was reminded today of yet another reason I don’t want to work at Blockbuster anymore: I constantly run into people I have no desire whatsoever to see. Like an ex. And her boyfriend. Who were being cutesy with each other in line.

This was not Laura. Laura is THE ex, the one person I dated for a year, and I won’t really get into what happened there, because I’ll go on for pages and bore the living shit out of the three people who read this page.

This is my other ex. The one that most people don’t particularly know was my ex, and if they know, they didn’t hear it from me. She shall remain nameless in this post since as I understand it, she’s not particularly out. I think she also falls into the category of Bisexual In Theory, But In Reality, Only For Angelina Jolie.

Those that don’t know the story, I had a bad crush on her early in sophomore year, before I really knew Laura (though after the story Conci loves to tell about how I hit on Laura in a cartoonish fashion when I was ridiculously drunk). The ex and I were together for, oh, three weeks (which of course no one could know about), after which winter break interceded, and then I found out she had a boyfriend at home and had been playing me the whole time, and I pseudo-dumped her.

I say pseudo-dumped becuase it’s kind of hard to dump someone who knows they’re just fucking with you, since they think they’re not in a position to be dumped. This is the “You can’t dump me, I’m not even dating you, neener neener neener!” theory of love.

The relationship wasn’t a total disaster, but it wasn’t quite at the American Pie “I’ve been used….I’ve been used!” level. It was a learning experience, and I think it made me a lot more straightforward (pardon the expression) in my relationship with Laura.

So anyway, said ex and her current boyfriend come in, and of course I recognize her immediately, though she’s dyed her hair a much lighter color. The first thought to pop into my mind is, of course, oh shit. I haven’t really seen her in a year or so, since she essentially avoided me after things ended, and particularly after I started dating Laura. Which is understandable given the awkwardness of the situation, and I didn’t particularly feel like dealing with her either.

I hate that when I see her, the bottom drops out of my stomach. She seems to be what my neuroses have decided is the embodiment of my deep-seated fear that I’m not good enough for anyone blah blah self pity yackety schmackety low self esteem etc. It took quite a bit of effort to chitchat when I ended up having to check her and her boyfriend out. I’ve had to keep a stupid smile plastered on my face many times at Blockbuster, but this was one of the more difficult ones.

It’s nice to see friends, like when I got to sarcastically explain to Ray that he really shouldn’t expect a movie with a title like The Man Who Wasn’t There to actually be there. But shit like having to make nice with the ex and her boyfriend when all I wanted to do was shout “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend at home?” really kind of wears on you after a while.

But no more. Because I fucking quit! Woo hoo!

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