Dear A Mitch: Sexy Ladies, Potentially
Dear A Mitch, My ex-girlfriend is starting to get borderline crazy on me. I broke up with her about a year ago when she cheated on me with a guy during her semester abroad. She was really upset at the time, but she cooled down eventually. But then I got a new girlfriend and ever since then she has been bugging out on me, calling me constantly and verbally soliciting herself to me. It is hard because, as much as I want to tell her to go away and get out my life, I somewhat like the attention. What should I tell my ex, and should I tell the girl I am dating now?
The great thing about threats is they don’t have to come true. Example: If you call me one more time I am going to lynch you with your own fallopian tubes. Problem solved. Then deny. No, why would I ever say that? She’s a fucking lunatic, how tough are those tubes anyway? Probably not strong enough to strangle 130 pounds of psycho. See? Crazy times Crazy equals funny. You’ll be drama free and popular in one disturbing statement. Can we be friends?
If the threat doesn’t work (i.e. you are a the least threatening person on the planet, see: Carl Peaslee), there are a few things you can do to get her to stop calling you. Maybe you can just tell her – for realsies. Have you ever asked her to stop calling? Or mentioned it to her with concern? I doubt it, probably because you’re nice and you don't want to hurt her feelings. Which is totally understandable, but you can’t let your investment in her emotions control your life. You obviously had a good connection with her, and whether you can keep it as friends depends on both of your feelings. Yet, if it has gotten to the point where you’re calling her crazy, something should change. You don’t have to be a dick about it, but letting her know your phone is not an Iraqi war zone will help her make a transition away from you. Oh, is it because it’s blowing up? Probs.
It makes sense for you to like your ex’s attention. She’s giving you more power than the guy with a scissors in a real life Rock-Paper-Scissors dual. You can respond to her, or not, and she’ll be there, like moms. Or prescription pills. Sure the power feels good, but it’s really going to hurt when the one you’re dating finds out your ex is desperately trying give you the darkroom especial in the photo-lab at Pomona. It’s a breach of trust, even if you aren’t doing anything to pursue it.
So, should you tell your girl? No. Not yet at least. If you tell her now there is gonna be like, hella drama. Handle it on your own. Tell your ex you can only be friends if she acts like one. Friends don’t give each other hand jobs, and friends don’t send each other sexual text messages. Well, my friends do, but… I mean, have you met Lewis Corson?
You broke up with your ex because she played you, figure it out, don’t be a hypocrite.
Dear A Mitch
I am the kind of girl that likes casual sex. I don’t even have to tell you what that means for me, but I will. Here are some of the things I have been called lately: Slut, whore, loose, easy… the list goes on. I am completely aware that this is an age-old problem for women who are sexually liberal, but there has got to be a way to break the mold. What do you think?
If your name is Carly Candypants, I have a bone to pick. Did you really think you could give my roommate a case of the itch-and-sniffs? I know he’s good in the sack, but honestly, your sexual liberalism is an infectious love, condemning even the healthiest men to a life of calling in to uplifting herpes treatment commercials. “Hi, I just saw your commercial, do I just order, err, how does this work? Can you send it in a secret box?” No they can’t send it in a secret box. And thanks to you, my dorm room now has two beds. So much for my nighttime tickles.
If you’re not that herp smuggler, Carly, I’m sorry for the verbal lashing. And I am sorry you have to live in a world where double standards reign so strongly over a woman’s sexual promiscuity. Nonetheless, you live a lifestyle many frown upon. So how do you break the mold?
Like most social movements, it starts with you disregarding the derogatory perception unleashed by jealous and closed-minded individuals. Or plainly: Don’t care. But there is more to it than turning your back on insults. People are prejudiced because of ignorace. So educate them. Though maybe not with an enraged Facebook status: CMC guys make me vom, so over you.
Have a conversation with the guy who thinks he knows "your kind," the ho bag who even gave Billy a BJ. Get on a personal level with him. Confrontation changes people, and when you successfully convey the left field idea that you enjoy your right to have informal sex as much as any man, maybe he’ll begin to understand you’re lifestyle is analogous to some of his buddies on campus. Or his friends at home. Or his grandpa’s country club. Really anywhere if he pays attention.
Then lay some more truth on him. Let him know that when he talks shit, you feel shitty. Splash some sincerity in a batch of genuine emotion, and you’ll find yourself doling out some good old fashioned guilt. Because no matter how much you think he (or anyone) actually wants to hurt your feelings, he doesn’t. Your title is just a convenient way to label you, and once you’ve voiced yourself to those who want to define you in one belittling term, your self-esteem will be higher than Friday night at the Beckett Bakery.
In the end, if you’re happy, and you aren’t doing anything to hurt anyone else, then get your freak on. Do what you do shawdy, and I’ll be chillin’ in the crib if you need some real good advice.
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