To earn a copy of Joe Dante’s Burying the Ex, I asked you all to tell me about your craziest exes and how you broke up with them. It didn’t occur to me that our Facebook commenting system may have made some of you clam up so as not to be identifiable. However, we got a number of good stories nonetheless.
Back in college, a girlfriend of mine was very obsessed with what i was doing at all day every day. she was very insecure and jealous for no reason. she would accuse me of cheating when i wasn’t and once fought a girl in a bathroom cause she thought they were talking about her. that was who she was. well one night i went out with the buddies for some drinks to celebrate a friend’s b-day or something but the kicker is that i forgot my phone at my place. i thought, “oh well. it’ll only be for a few hours.” well that was a mistake because as i found out later, my GF hat called me 37 times in 3 hours AND left 11 voicemails, each one more crazier than the last.
i don’t know what she was thinking but she wanted to get ahold of me so bad she apparently went out to a few bars looking for me. ultimately she found me with my buddies at a very crowded pub. she storms in and immediately starts yelling and accusing me of all sorts of shit. we take it out to the parking and after some more screaming she drops the bomb…….she got mugged while out looking for me. well any normal person after getting mugged would have felt embarassment and shame and fear and would have gone home or to a friend’s house. but she decided to feel unlimited amounts of anger towards me and even brought up my dad who i idolized, asking “what he would have done?!” very bizarre.
later that week i called a couple police departments to check in on the report and there was no record of the incident or the supposed $600 that was stolen from her. oh yeah, forgot that part. why she had $600 dollars in her purse while she was out by herself around a bunch of dive bars on a friday night…….i don’t know………..no wait i DO know. long story short, she never got mugged. she lied about it to make me feel terrible. it took a little while to peice everything together but after i did, i broke up with her.
I had just bought a new truck. A red Chevy 4×4 with a 6 inch lift kit, monster tires, chromed up nice, with a great stereo system. My ex-wife and I had been going through hell for some time. We were sitting in the truck and started talking about divorce. We discussed where the kids would live and how we would split up the assets. I said to her “I’ll keep my truck you can keep your car”
She didn’t comment and the conversation bottomed out. I got out of the truck and she said she wanted to stay and listen to a song that was on. I went inside and heard her drive off. About a half hour goes by and there is a knock on the door. The neighbor tells me she has been in a wreck up the street. I jump in her car and take off. I get the wreck and my truck is on its side, after being rolled. I’m freaked out and run to the truck, crawl up the frame swing open the door and it’s empty. I look around and she’s standing by the road with some people that stopped to help. I run over to her and ask if she’s alright. She smiles, hands me the keys and says “It’s your truck now”
It ended shortly after when she stole my bank card and tried to clean out my account. I found the card missing and called the bank after she had made two ATM stops and shut off the card. While she was still trying it I went to the lawyer and filed the papers.
Commenting from not-my-regular-account because, you know, everything can be Googled down the road…
Anyway, one ex comes to mind in particular.
Dated for a while, then she moved in. About a year later, it was time for it to be over and for her to move out (it was my house).
We were having the big argument/break up conversation over the phone while she was driving. She didn’t want to break up. She hung up. When she called me back 10 minutes later, she claimed some guy had walked up to her at a red light and started hitting her. I ran over to see if she was ok. This turned into pity which she worked into staying for another month.
As it later turned out, she had beaten herself up to try and keep me from breaking up with her.
That’s right: she Fight Club’ed herself.
A month later, break up talk again. I say she needs to move out. She claims that her surgery that was supposed to be in 6 months got moved up to next week, and then she needs to recover for a month, so she can’t move out. Ok…
Yeah, that thing got rescheduled another time… and another, at which point I asked to speak to her doctor, and then was told it was on track for the original date, which was now close enough where I didn’t have the heart to kick her out.
Surgery happens, I give her a month to recover, then kick her out. It literally took me finding her an apartment, paying for first, last, and security out of my own pocket, and moving her in myself to get her to leave.
What happens then?
She claims she’s pregnant.
Yes, she claimed she was pregnant. Over and over. Claimed pregnancy tests which she lost, all of it, plus all the side effects, just so I would take her back.
This may not sound that unusual, a woman claiming to be pregnant to keep a guy, but:
1) we hadn’t “been” together in months
2) she had no uterus or ovaries. That’s right, she’d had a hysterectomy as a child. Literally physically and physiologically impossible.
So, I’ll stop there, but I could fill up another 5 pages with the lies this girl told to try to keep me, and, let’s be honest, I’m not much of a catch.
The following is 100% true:
I’m a huge Godzilla fan.
I took my high school sweetheart to see Godzilla 2000 in theaters. There’s a scene where Orga uses Tokyo’s power cables to tie Godzilla up. She commented this action was “kinky” and liked Godzilla’s “pink” spines.
We broke up soon afterward.
The following story is 100% true:
When I was 17, I was going out with my first serious girlfriend. We lived a few towns away so there was a lot of driving involved that wasn’t parent-supported.. We’d take turns every weekend. One time she left pretty late and, surprisingly and immediately, called me when she got home, crying her eyes out hysterically. She sounded like she had just watched her entire family being killed by a WereShark while “Metal Machine Music” played in the background through a weather-worn didgeridoo.
Turned out she had been pulled over by a state trooper for some bullshit “driving in the fast lane when there were no other cars around” reason and was worried that her father would never let her drive again. I attempted to calm her and asked her not to worry, a family member of mine was a trooper in that area and I’ll ask him to tell the guy not to show up in court.
I did and it was completely taken care of. She was in the clear like it never happened.
Done and done.
The next weekend, I couldn’t use the car, so my father dropped me off at the local theater in her town and the plan was that she would then drive me home. She and I went into the theater and the movie began. I had no interest in it. It was “The Doctor” with William Hurt. But I didn’t care. I was with my first love and all was right in the world. It would last forever…
About 30 minutes into it, she turns to me and whispers, “Do you hear that?”. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. A few minutes later, she whips her head over to me and says, much louder this time, “You really can’t hear that???”.
“What? What can’t I hear?”
She went back to watching the movie but had that intense look on her face that someone gets when they’re about to explode into a major, “I better get the fuck out of here” fit. She turns to me again…
“PLEASE tell me you can hear that.”
People around us started to turn around to see what was going on.
I tried to bring her voice down by putting my arm around her and whispering back, “Hear what?”
My first instinct was to laugh because I thought she was joking.
She grabbed my arm, dug her nails into my flesh, her eyes wide and nostrols flaring, “You don’t hear those SIRENS?!!!”
I was frozen with fear.
She grabbed her soda, plowed through the people in our row and ran out of the theater. I slowly got up, apologized to everyone around us and walked into the parking lot. I was immediately pelted in the face with her large Diet Coke and told, “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, ASSHOLE!!!”
She then got into her mom’s red Dodge Mini-Van, peeled out of the silent parking lot and blasted into the cold New England night as the soda syrup started to freeze on my face and hair.
I called my dad, told him what happened, and he came to pick me up. We mostly rode in an uncomortable, angry silence. You know what a pissed dad sounds like.
He finally, empathy emerging, asked, “How’re ya doin’?”
I then blasted one of those explosive “date farts” that you’d been holding in for hours on end.
“Sounds about right.”
A few weeks later, she actually broke up with me. I was in trouble for something that memory doesn’t allow me to remember and wasn’t allowed to drive to see her. I could drive in town though. I told my parents that I was going to the movies with friends. They didn’t quite believe it but they let me take the car anyway. I immediately called her and exclaimed, “Hey! I’ve got the car! I’ll be there in 30 minutes!”
I show up at her house and she’s got a paper bag in her arms. I thought, “Oh, we must be going on a picnic.”
“You’re a LIAR, Jeffrey Roland!”
“Oh I just had a VERRRRY interesting and long talk with your mother. Turns out you weren’t allowed to come here. You were supposed to be going to the movies with your friends. She’s expecting you home soon.”
“Wait. You TOLD on me?!”
“Mmmmhmmm. The truth.”
“But….but…I did it to see you.”
She then shoved the paper bag right into my chest. It was filled with everything I had ever given her.
“Don’t ever call me again. By the way, my parents HATE you too.”
She slammed the door right in my face.
Thanks to the magic and majesty of Facebook, we got back together again in 2008 and stories from that are about 20x’s worse.
But those stories, my friends, are for another time….
And the winner is…
Many of you had nightmarish stories, but I chose the one that actually made me feel trapped in a nightmare as I read it. Congratulations, Marvel Collector – you earned your prize and then some.
I tried to log out of facebook in order to post this one so I’m doing it from my collector page. Okay I dated a crazy CRAZY bitch back from 16 till I was about 20. She started great, mom would cook me a steak when I came over, they’d take me on vacation, they’d give me great gifts, they would buy me shirts… started to have me dress a certain way…. do things I usually didn’t… HOLY SHIT her and her mother were molding me to be what they wanted! So I started to take some steps back when I came over one day and she cut her hair to look like her moms, and I noticed I was dressed like her dad. Well son of a bitch! But they were making steaks that night so I hung around.
December came and her mom asked me “What are you getting for Christmas?” so I said I wasn’t sure yet, that’s when she offered to take me shopping and help pick out something nice. Whelp, left with an engagement ring, I didn’t even pay for it. Turns out they had been looking and planning that she was going to get engaged that year, and I still stayed around. Then I was told how, in front of her family, HER WHOLE family, I still don’t even know what the hell I was thinking. And that’s when things got weirder. They started planning everything from the party to where we were going to live to what kind of baby she was going to have, and they bought the house next door to them…. Till one day her mom called my mom and told her “Your son was raised wrong and has no direction. We’re going to set him on the right path”.
That was it for me! No one tells my mom I was raised wrong!
I went out with friends and they had an intervention for me and gave me my balls back to get rid of her. So I took her to the place were we had our first date and I dumped her there.
Little did I know that wasn’t the end for her. That was March, and I saw her again in December and she greeted me in front of her friends like nothing changed, and to them nothing did change because from March till December she kept planning our future. She bought a wedding dress, picked themes, started to fix up the house they bought her which was going to be a wedding gift, and she never told her friends we broke up.
12 years later, I’m married, she’s married, both of us have moved on and she’s at an engagement party and for hours just stared at me with more hate in her eyes than I’ve ever seen before and knowing that she still hated me so many years later made me know I did the right thing.