My Cousin the B****

Don’t worry, she already knows I am doing this. Because I told her last night. Yes, I flat out told her, “I am going to write my blog about you tomorrow, and I am going to call it ‘My Cousin the B****.’” Why, you ask? Well, allow me to enlighten you.

The cousin I am referring to (just in case any other of my gazillion cousins are reading this and thinking “what did I do??”) is one of my south side cousins. (Oh, I KNOW you can see where this is going, you perceptive reader, you!) As a matter of fact, she is the infamous south side cousin who lead me to believe that Mr. South Side was not only a wonderful person, but not the LEAST bit psychotic. Granted, she didn’t really know him all that well, she really just knew him in passing through his aunt, but STILL. Ok, so no biggie. Actually, I have been keeping her updated on everything since day one anyway, and obviously harbor no ill will toward her for her poor people reading skills. Because, as we all know, it really all comes down to the fact that I am OBVIOUSLY sooooo skilled and such a wonderful person that ANY man would immediately fall under my spell. For all I know, Mr. South Side was just as normal as the next guy until he hooked up with me. (All right, probably not, but just for the sake of argument…) Bottom line is, SS Cousin had no way of knowing how this would all turn out. And she has been appropriately sympathetic to my plight, and just as appropriately freaked out by Mr. South Side’s behavior.

Which is why when she called me last night, I was totally unprepared for what came next.

I had just come home from taking Roxy and her friend shopping for school clothes and a backpack (Yes, the night before school started. So I’m a procrastinator, shoot me) when the phone rang. It was about 9:30 and kind of an odd hour for someone to be calling me, but when I saw SSC’s name on the caller id, I was like “Oh, hey!” and cheerily answered the phone. Her response to my cheery “hello”? “Guess who just left MY house?”

No. No no no no NO!!! But OH YES, Mr. South Side had gone to her house to pour out his woes and try to get some answers. Answers, as we all know, that I already GAVE him several times over. But my bleeding-heart SSC invited him in and listened. Between laughs (yes, she finds this FUNNY!!) she told me how he doesn’t understand WHY this happened. He told her that the last time he talked to me, I hung up on him, and it hurt him terribly. When she asked him when that was (even though she knew damn well when it was, because I TOLD her about it myself) and he told her it was around his birthday, a month or so ago, she said she had a really hard time keeping a straight face. Like me (and every other NORMAL person out there) she said she wanted to say, “Look, if someone HANGS UP on you and then IGNORES you for a month after that, chances are good it’s DONE!” But she said she just couldn’t do it, because he looked so lost and sad. (Boo F***ing Hoo. I don’t care. Stupid bleeding heart SSC!!!)

She said he didn’t understand what I wanted, because he was SO NICE to me. Apparently he implied that maybe he should’ve been more like (and I quote) “Tommy Lee.” Ok, question? Does that mean he thinks that maybe he should’ve tried BEATING me or something?? Because let me tell you this – he would be SO DEAD. But in all honesty, at least Tommy Lee would’ve been more EXCITING, and maybe even talked some (when he wasn’t shooting heroin or making sex tapes).

SSC told me all she could do was act like she had no idea what was going on. Why? I don’t know. According to her, he is absolutely miserable. I told her that I am sure he will get over it, just like he got over his 10 and 8 year relationships, and she told me that in fact, he had told her that even his last relationship of ten years didn’t hurt as much as this. (Violins, anyone?) Then, just for effect, he did the old fist-to-the-chest move and told her “She really got me right here.”

SSC even told him that since she knows me so well, she also knows that I am a very independent person, and that due to my past, I had a hard time trusting people (which is true, but has nothing to do with my feelings (or lack thereof) for Mr. South Side). He said he knew about my past (also true, but irrelevant) and that he really thinks we have a good connection (??). He begged her to PLEASE call me and find out what is going on. And he gave her his number so she can “keep him informed.” He said he has been REALLY worried because he has no idea how I am or what I am doing or if I am alive or dead (duh – you’re not SUPPOSED to, moron) and had no idea who to talk to to find out these things. Which, apparently, is where SSC comes in. He said at the very least, he wants to be my FRIEND, so we can just hang out (ha! If only he knew the old innuendo of “hanging out!”) since we get together so well (AGAIN - ??).

Good cousin that she is, SSC told him she didn’t feel right asking me those things for him (what is this – high school??), but here is where the B**** part comes in. INSTEAD, she told him that maybe HE should call me and try to work things out. Then she gave him some mostaccoli and sent him on his way. (Seriously – she gave the psycho DINNER. Everyone knows you never give food to stray cats OR psychos, because they’ll KEEP COMING BACK!!)

In total, Mr. South Side spent about an HOUR at SSC’s house lamenting his loss, then he had to leave for work. (It seems either he never really quit his bouncing job in the first place, or he was able to get it back.) And now she was laughing her ass off on the phone to me while I called her every unsavory name I could think of. She is totally amazed at his melancholy, and kept asking me “What did you DO to that poor boy??” Again, I can’t help it if I am the modern-day Venus or Aphrodite or what-have-you, but I gotta say, this shit is getting OLD. How come I never had these problems when I was younger and REALLY wanted a boyfriend?? Oh, that’s right, with age comes experience, I guess. (So to all they guys who dumped me in the past –HA!! You’ll never know what you’re missing!!)

So here I am at work today, wondering exactly how long before I hear those tubular bells again. But this time, when I do, I think I’ll answer. I’ll answer and be the meanest, cruelest person I can be. And if that doesn’t work, I’m hiring a hitman.