The Big Fat Narcicisst

This is a real whopper. You might think I am kidding, exaggerating or flat out lying. But I promise you, this is a true story.
I met him on a few years ago. A little bit older than me … lawyer … no kids ( as I don’t have any, this is a plus for me ) … handsome … divorced ( meaning at least he’s been married and not a commitment phobe ) … sounds good on paper anyway. Our first date we met for drinks and apps. He told me he was pleasantly surprised at how attractive I was. He also admitted he had been married four times ( oops red flag ). Our second date he asked if he could take me to the ballet? Seriously? Really? Of course I want to go to the ballet … this guy is so totally romantic. He showed up at my door in a flawless Italian suit, a bottle of Veuve champagne in an ice bucket ( WOW )
chilled champagne flutes, but WAIT … there’s more … FOUR giant bags of presents !!! Holy shit.
Bag #1 ( drumroll please ) contains a pink fur coat
Bag #2 contains a Coach handbag
Bag #3 contains 3 Prada sweaters and
Bag #4 contains 3 gorgeous Italian rings with the biggest gemstones I have ever seen
I am speechless. My roommate is staring at me wide eyed. But I drink that damn champagne, I put on the pink coat, and we are off, to the ballet, with bells on. Following the production by Ballet West, we had a lovely dinner at Bambara ( inside the Hotel Monaco ) and then we drove to his place. The clothes came off and let’s just say I took care of business but was a good girl. Not really any fireworks went off, but it was somewhat satisfying. In the morning he dropped me off with a kiss.
A couple of days go by and I don’t hear from him. Fine, no big deal, I will just wait for him to touch base ( I can play the game too ). And then another couple of days go by and not a peep … no text, no email, no phone call, hmmmm … weird.
In the meantime, my roommate, who is highly suspicious, asks me …
“Hey, did that Coach handbag come in a box?” What? What box? “And, uhhh, did those rings come in a ring box?” And then it dons on me … Oh My God … NOOOOOOOOOOOO … He has given me his x-wives leftovers … Unfuckingbelievable !!! Frantic, I run to my closet, grab the handbag and there it is … lipstick marks and pen marks on the inside … Ackkkkkkkkkk … I can’t believe it … Who does this??? And then we start laughing … uncontrollable belly laughter fall on the floor laughter make you cry laughter …
So I gather what is left of my dignity … I get on my computer … I get online and there he is “Online NOW” on Match … shopping for the next victim … What a DOUCHEBAG !!! So I send him a text just saying “Hey, what’s up, I haven’t heard from you?” And he replies that he is so sorry and has been really sick and just hasn’t had the time. Liar. I pick up the phone, dial his number, he answers, and I say ever so gracefully … “BTW, I would really appreciate it if you NEVER contact me again AND that I am going to leave his champagne flutes along with his w-wives leftovers on the front porch.” Whereupon he starts screaming obscenities at me and telling me THOSE champagne flutes are exorbitantly expensive and how could I possible even THINK OF leaving them outside where they might break?? So I said “Great, why don’t you stop by after work tonight and you can get them?”
As he walked up the path I threw the bags in his face. My only regret is that I didn’t toss those champagne flutes into the air so that I could have watched him swan dive into the garden bed and face plant into the dirt which is where his kind belongs. Damn … It would have been so awesome to see him swan diving for those flutes.
The End


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