So Shmashley 1 and I broke up. I don’t even think there’s an eventful story to it, it just happened one day. We were skyping as per usual on any given evening (also Courtney and Shmellen were in the room, even though they were broken up…Lesbians, am I right?) and Shmashley was bitching about the impending out of town rugby game that coming weekend. Shmellen didn’t particularly like Shmashley and her constant need to control my life so she started to fervently make jacking off motions towards the computer screen from across the room. Picture that, if you can, my sister and her now ex-girlfriend sitting on a twin sized dorm bed, laughing while one of them rapidly jerked off her imaginary penis. Needless to say, Shmashley did not appreciate my stifled giggling and lack of attention to the “serious” conversation at hand.
Whether it be from my actions (which were Shmellen’s fault) or for some other reason, Shmashley suddenly burst out and said:
“I have something serious to tell you…”
Cue Courtney and Shmellen making like trees and leaves…nope, that didn’t quite work. I’ll workshop it.
“I’m not in love with you anymore.”
Now what is the proper response to that? I don’t know what one is supposed to say when their partner says they’re not in love you anymore.
Well I’m rubber, you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you?
*Theme music and opening credits play*
Once we were broken up I basically went… ape shit… to put it lightly.
I was living in my first apartment at the time, I was a part of the gayest group of gays that ever gayed (the Women’s Rugby Team), and I was 19 which is a time when you’re really not aware of your alcohol tolerance and yet never seem to get hungover. These were brilliant times.
I remember a particular incident in which me and Shmellen were hanging out and drinking. We both were crushing on girls on our rugby team, Shmellen had her eyes on the tall and athletic Shmillary who was generally regarded as the catch of our team. She was freckly, kind, super fit, and could knock the shit out of you on a rugby field (what everyone looks for in a girl, am I right?). Shmillary was like an exotic hot giraffe that might also kick you in the face with her hoof, but you would let her and then you would let her hold you in her strong arms afterwards.
I on the other hand decided to crush on Shmartina. Shmartina was a mothafuckin MILF — except she wasn’t a mom and she was 23. But she helped us coin the phrase “mom hot” (not to be confused with “hot mom”) when describing someone who looks like they could be a hot mom that you would want to bring you orange slices after a soccer game and maybe let you eat them off of her boobs in that mini van of hers. Actually, looking back, Shmartina did have a very family-friendly, 4-door SUV that got excellent gas mileage. She was also one of two and a half semi-straight girls on our team. I say semi-straight because she had told us of a previous almost-relationship (the weirdest type of relationship to have. Like, I almost dated her. I almost adopted a chinchilla with her. I almost gave that bitch my letterman but then I thought: nah.) with a former teammate of hers at another college. Of course I pick the girl who wasn’t really gay, it turned out that this almost-relationship of hers had been more of a typical college roommate experiment. And it double turns out that I really had almost no chance at winning her heart, but was I going to give it my all, dammit.
Anyway, Shmellen and I drunkenly decided that we would pursue these two girls but if we didn’t end up with them that we would then instead be friends with benefits. One of my finest ideas.
Like hey Chris, you know what wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings? If you decided to be friends with benefits with your twin sister’s very recent ex-girlfriend. Great idea. You’re the best. Keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t change a thing. This is not a bad idea at all. (In the scheme of things, it is actually not the worst idea that I’ve ever had).
Luckily Shmellen’s game was on point and she ended up dating Shmillary, whereas Shmartina went down in history as the only woman to ever outright turn me down. She was my one that got away, my French Toast Crunch that I’ll never be able to eat again because those monsters at General Mills took my one true love away from me.
*Next Time on Nobody Scissors we’ll see my first hookup as a newly single lesbian*