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And the New Contest is . . . Breakin’ Up Is Hard To Do Send me your most impressive break up story and have it featured in a book! As with the naughty dog contest, I imagine my own personal story will set the bar pretty high, so here goes. Back in my early twenties, I dated a guy who loved rowing. One weekend, we went out of state to visit his friends, also rowers, for a homemade regatta of sorts. I agreed to be timekeeper, and Boyfriend rowed me out to a big exposed rock |
| in the middle of the lake, out of sight of the beach and start line, but close enough that I could hear the starter pistol. He handed me a stop watch and told me to shout out the finish time each time someone crossed the finish line. I did so (quite cheerfully, I might add), enjoying the sun, the manly rowers and the beautiful lake. But then the races seemed to stop. I waited. No boats. Eventually, I assumed this meant they were all done racing. Surely, my sweetie would come get me any second. I waited a little more. No boyfriend. Judging from the snatches of music and laughter the wind occasionally carried to me, it seemed like a party was in full swing back on the distant beach, which I couldn’t see from my rock. Keeping in mind that this particular boyfriend was the one who enjoyed pretending to regurgitate his own tongue while dining with my family, I was patient. Granted, his sense of humor was a bit skewed, but he wouldn’t forget me, right? I was his girlfriend. His honey. Any minute, I’d see him row up. Surely. But eventually — we’re talking maybe another hour here — it became clear that Boyfriend was not coming to get me. That he’d forgotten that I was on a rock in the middle of the bleeping lake! Though I didn’t have a boat, I did have my dignity and, being unwilling to bellow for help, I took my fate into my own hands and swam for the nearest shore, which was about fifty yards away. Clad in dripping shorts and t-shirt — and now-ruined Nikes — I stumbled through the woods, which were full of poison ivy, mud and possibly large snakes. Furious, soggy, outraged, I opted to skip the beach party where Boyfriend and his pals were frolicking. Instead, I walked several miles back to the place we were staying and packed my bags. Needless to say, it was the end of that particular relationship. And while Boyfriend got 0 points for subtlety (leaving me on a rock, come on!), I do have to give him credit for a memorable breakup. The truth is, aside from this one event, he was a pretty good guy. So.
Anyone else care to share her most memorable break up story? The top three
stories will be posted on my website (with just first names, of course,
don’t want to get anyone in trouble here), and the winner will have
her story included in a future book.
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