Dumping and Dignity

[Cita]

Every woman should dump a man at least once in her life... not the horrible earth-shattering curl-into-a-fetal-position painful ending of a marriage (possibly with children) kind of dumping, though I have done that, too, and though the dawning of the knowledge that the end was coming seemed gradual, I had one of those flash-of-recognition moments marking the end, but this story isn't about that.

Divorce aside, every woman should have the memory of one of those moments where she tells a boyfriend/lover, "Ha!  I am done with you.  You are not worthy of my time any longer."

Mine came on Mother's Day, 2008, at the Carlsbad Caverns National Park gift shop (no joke). 

My then-boyfriend and I had embarked on a camping/hiking trip that was supposedly to end at summer seasonal jobs in California after a visit to Texas to see my family.

We walked through the caverns, carefree and laughing, and started to buy gifts for my neices and nephews when he added his own souveniers to the pile (a ball cap with bats on it, a coffee mug, a t-shirt) only to inform me as I began to make a stilted and uncomfortable sort that he had left his credit card in Phoenix (where we didn't intend to return until fall), expecting me to pay for everything on our journey... everything (and of course, he'd pay me back).

Oh, but we did, we did return to Phoenix... we returned to Phoenix so that he could retrieve his credit card, and I could retrieve my dignity.

 

[Jenny]

A good story.  Every woman should have the balls to stand up for herself.

[Cita]

Eh.  Money is a big red flag for me.  There are several and I vowed to pay attention to them when they started waving wildly in my face. 

[Teresa]

Of course I'd have paid for it and probably would have blown it off because this would have been one of the three to five year beads in my serial monogamy necklace and we were probably already living together in Phoenix.  He most likely didn't have a job at the moment, either, but I gave him credit for at least pretending to look for one or was patient while he went back to school.  I would be used to this sort of crap and would take it until too far down the road but would kick him out at least by then.  He was probably funny and cute and seductive.  Like Satan.  You have a good eye and nose.   

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

If he hadn't shown his hand at that point, it might have ended up even worse for you somewhere down the line.  Think of it as a gift.

[Cita]

<waving wildly at Gita>  Thank you for "getting it."  I have no idea why that memory surfaced for me this  morning, but it entertained the heck out of me write about it.  You should have seen his face when I explained why we were going to Phoenix rather than on to California.  The day I drove away from him was one of the most profound days of my life.  The relationship was not profound, but the driving away marked a new beginning for me.

[Gita]

Oh. Girl. This is brilliant.

You know that every woman within reading distance of this could hear the voicing of  "Oh, but we did, we did return to Phoenix."   There's a very specific sound to that sentence, unmistakable  and universally known to every woman upon whom a man tried to pull a scam. And the "I left my wallet/credit card/cash back in Farawayville" is a primo reason to speak that line. Fave O Rama.

[Mike Handley]

You remembered the bats. Or made them up. Doesn't matter. It's those details that help your stories soar.