Whenever I come across a situation that polarises opinion, I become obsessed with discussing it at every opportunity with every single person I come across. And since this blog gives me unlimited access to rattle on about any matter of shite, I thought I’d sound you lot out. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin…
To cut a long and painful story very short, I’ve had a shit year with the chaps (I know, I know, it makes a change) in that I had to end something with someone which was very painful but entirely the right decision and as such, my lady feels and lady parts have been closed for refurbishment for some time. And then, out of the blue, I met a gentlemen and quite frankly, was a a bit of a smitten kitten. I didn’t even realise how smitten until he said how much he liked Queen and I had an out of body experience in which I sat in the corner of the bar and watched myself telling him how much I too, liked Queen. This is, was and probably always will be an absolute lie. I hate Queen. As in, I have a completely irrational, pathological hatred* of the band. It’s madness but I digress. All you really need to know is I met a man and I liked him so much that I lied about liking classic British rock.
Of course, nothing is ever as easy as meeting someone, liking someone, someone liking you and skipping off happily ever after and so, even though there was this very intelligent, ridiculously handsome, sweet, genuine, passionate, karaoke-singing wonderman who made me laugh like the proverbial drain when I haven’t as much as cracked a smile in months it was buggered from the beginning, and not because he’s an Arsenal fan and I was born and bred Man Utd (although that might become more important Sunday at around six) but because I live in New York and he lives in England. So far, so fucked. But you never know where the wind will blow, do you? Who knows where I’ll be in three months. And how often do you meet a man who genuinely likes Law & Order: SVU? Given that I was planning to be in the UK for a whole month not long after we met, I emailed him and suggested we hang out. Now, who can guess what happened next?
He’s only gone and got himself a girlfriend.
Now, I very much wanted to say ‘that’s awesome, I’m so pleased for you, you’re an incredible person and I can be happier in this world knowing that you are happy.’ But at the same time I also wanted to say ‘OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE. I’D ALREADY FOUND A LONDON FLAT AND PLANNED THE FUCKING WEDDING, YOU MASSIVE TWAT.’ Which might be a bit of an exaggeration but still. I hadn’t picked a ring but I did get a bikini wax. What a waste of $75 plus tax and tip.
Anyway, a little bit later in the day, I was chatting to one of my NY besties and the conversation went a bit like this:
Her: So fucking what? You like him, go and fucking get him. Fuck her.
Her: We don’t know her, we don’t like her, we know you and we like you. Fuck her.
Me: I can’t do that… that’s awful. Isn’t it?
Her: I’m serious. This is not the time to be fucking nice. All’s fair in love and war… make him go for a drink and then throw your knickers at him.
Me: It’s too cold to take my knickers off in public. Seriously, London is freezing.
Her: Sto changing the subject. Didn’t *insert name of wanker* totally do that to you anyway? Girls do this all the time.
Me: Well, yeah she did but I couldn’t. I’m not a c*nt.
Her: Do you like him?
Her: And you never like fucking anyone.
Me: Whatever. I like Stabler. And CM Punk**.
Her: They’re not real people.
Me: YES THEY A-
Her: NO THEY AREN’T. What the fuck are you playing at?
Me: I don’t know. I’m clearly seeing him so shut up.
Her: Why? It’s not like you’re that nice, you know. You’re not getting points for being miserable.
Me: I know but still… wah.
Her: Then don’t fucking whine to me about it, you twat.
Calling me a twat wasn’t very nice but what really spun me out was, this hadn’t even crossed my mind. I hadn’t even considered demanding to see him and pouting until he put it in me even though I was super pissed about the situation. I don’t know if that’s because I’m easily defeated or because I’M NOT A TWAT but I could never rest easy knowing that I’d shafted another woman by trying to nick her boyfriend. And yet, a genuinely good friend of mine who I really like and think is an awesome woman, reckons she would join TeamHomewrecker faster than you can ‘Angelina Jolie’. And I merrily resign myself to the emotional masochism of being ‘just good friends’. The sad fact is, she’s right, it has happened to me before. I know there are loads of women out there who would happily go after this guy, whether he was in a relationship or not.
It’s about 48 hours since I had the original convo and so far several friends, three continents, two cats and a London cabbie have been polled. For the most part, my friends all said they would be very sad, eat lots of biscuits but let it go and hope they split up on their own at some point, leaving him much more vulnerable to a swift attack at a later date. And yet, when they were confronted with option B, a lot of them perked up and said ‘Oh, that’s totally happened to me! You should totally do that!’ The cabbie didn’t even question it. He actually offered to drop me round said man’s house with no charge because apparently he gets ‘some right old slags in this cab who wouldn’t think twice about dropping their knickers behind their best mate’s back but you seem nice enough.’ Which might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.
But, to refer to a couple of well-known book series (cough), there are Angelas and Tesses in this world and there are Cicis and Vanessas. Trying to steal someone else’s boyfriend, now matter how amazing he is***, feels like a very Cinessa move to me and I’m definitely a Tangela. I could never and would never make a move on this man or any other guy with a girlfriend. Child of divorce over here.
But what I really want to know is, what would you do? And even if you wouldn’t go for it, would you tell your friend that s/he should?
Time to have your say in the comments below, Tweet, FB, carrier pigeon or we can chat about it at the signings! Although that’s probably not a very good idea. I might get in trouble with WH Smiths if there’s a queue. Maybe high five me if you would leave alone and wink twice if you’d have a crack at hypothetical guy with girlfriend. That works.
Given that I’ve never seen such a strong reaction to anything I’ve posted before, I just want to make it super, super clear (because apparently I didn’t in the above) that I’m only asking what your reaction to the situation would be – whether it was you advising a friend or dealing with it yourself. I know myself very well (thanks to lots of expensive therapy) and while I understand that sometimes these things aren’t black and white, for me it’s a no go.
Also, just so you know, when I do start putting my life decisions out to online polling, that’s when you can all start to really worry about me.
*I know hating Queen is ridiculous and terrible and I wish I could explain it or work out when it started. I think it’s mostly Brian May’s hair. I quite like Freddie Mercury in interviews. In my defense, my dad doesn’t like Elvis or Motown, like, any Motown at all and I think that’s definitely weirder.
** Detective Eliot Stabler of the NYCPD SVU is admittedly fictional but CM Punk is a totally real professional wrestler and I think it’s absolutely conceivable that we will end up getting married and living together on his tour bus. Right? Right?
*** Seriously though, he was ace but I’m not a massive bastard.