I remember a conversation with a friend once. One of my exes got brought up in conversation. If you’ve been following along in the blog, you’ll know this ex by the term “DB”.  You know, the equivalent to the grim reaper of hearts with a stomping fetish.

“I can’t believe you broke up with him.” – Friend

Time stopped. A lump in my throat formed. All of a sudden I wanted to scream, to maybe throw my drink in my friends face. Maybe even cry an ugly cry while I did it.

Instead, a “What?” fell out of my shocked mouth.

“He was sooooooo hot.” – Friend (Another friend nodded in agreement.)

Yes, I definitely wanted to throw my drink. And kick as many shins as possible and unleash my inner rage at all the vain, superficial people I had just realized I had been calling friends.

I sarcastically laughed and sharply lasered back “After knowing what he did to me, all you have to say is you can’t believe we broke up because he was sooooo hot?!” (I will admit freely and without shame that I still harbored insane amounts of anger toward this ex. I still pretty much fantasized about lighting him on fire. Don’t worry, I’ve come to terms with MOST of it cira…now.)

Other friend in the group saw my knuckles go white, grabbed me and tried to dance with me to divert my attention. I wasn’t having it. I stepped closer and said, “Would you be OK with your daughter dating a man like that? Would you just turn a blind eye to the pain he caused her just because he was of his perfectly hairless chiseled body?”

I ruined the fun moment. I popped the bubble of superficial bullshit and the look I was getting said it all. YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.

A moment of clarity smacked me right in the kisser. The above may be a terrible example. But,it tugged at my loyalty string like a mo-fo.

(End Scene)

I had a suuuuuuper bad day this week. Loyalty came to the forefront. Which sparked a Facebook rant. I came to the conclusion and commentary fueled idea:  We don’t date douches, at least most of us try to avoid it at all costs, why would we be friends with them?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. K.

How can you determine if something/someone is WRONG/TOXIC/EXPIRED for you if you don’t put yourself in the pile of flaming shit? You can’t. It’s impossible.

“Yeah-Huh, Mercedes” (Insert sticking out of the tongue)

Oh sure, you can heed people’s warnings, you can listen to your parents justify why they sheltered you your whole life because they “Didn’t want to see you make the same mistakes you did.” Or that they “Know better than you because they’ve seen it all.”

You can even look up tons of advice on the internets, maybe even THIS blog and try and save yourself certain torments or find words someone else wrote to confirm what you knew all along. I get it. It’s human nature to want to feel validated, to reach out aside from ourselves and connect with some other force of thought. Lemme tell you something though before you fall on your knees in a “Whhhhhhy meeee!?” plea with the heavens.  Each shitty friend, each romantical death, each hindsight that makes you go, “God, if I only knew then what I know now”…brings. you. closer. to. LIFE. and LOVE. and Furry baby tigers. You know, if that’s what your heart desire wants.

How not to date/be friends with a douche: Date/Be friends with a douche.

Do it so you know what it looks like in the future? Yes, that’s what I’m going with. Because let’s face it, you don’t really get to know someone til the shit hits the fan. We’re all human, we all suck and man, some of us just like to believe that everyone is a good person. Til they’re not.

And maybe it’s a battle of the sexes thing. Women for example: when something is morally wrong to us, it is so terribly morally wrong because we are driven by our feelings and emotions and stuff. Men, not so much. If something beeps “wrong” on their moral compass they say, “well, he’s got my back anytime I need him so no judgement, dude.” Am I trying to say that women have a more sensitive douche meter than men? Probably.

I guess now I just need to work on my incredibly verbose definition of douche.

Rant over. M, out.

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Best douche face I could make.

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Best douche face I could make.

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