In a follow up to my previous post, I figured I would elaborate more on how things went down between me and “Crazy”. How this disastrous relationship ended is, in my opinion, one of greatest breakup stories ever. I am so fortunate that it happened to me.
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| The Sets Addicts, season II (no Crazy) |
It was the winter of 2009. As mentioned earlier, I met Crazy on my gay volleyball team, The Sets Addicts. We were a classy bunch. When I first met Crazy, I thought he was gay. No joke. We all went out to brunch after the game and he was chatting me up. I just thought this new gay guy on the team was really friendly. Gay guys usually love me – I am a mess, anyone gay or straight, loves a hot mess (except when dating, then it’s not cute). Turns out, he was a bigger mess than me. 2 messes don't make a right. When he asked for my number, I was a little thrown off, but didn’t think too much of it. If he wanted to meet for a drink at Show Tunes Monday or see the drag show at Kit Kat, I would be down. I already lived at these bars anyway. When our mutual friend on the team, Z, told me he was straight, it blew my mind. I decided I would play along.
Shortly after, I met Crazy at a bar to watch a Clemson basketball game, his Alma Mater. He wasn’t drinking. I didn’t know that someone could watch a sporting event sans beer. They go hand in hand. He told me he got into a little trouble and gave it up, but was TOTALLY ok with the fact that I drank. I should have known this would come back to haunt me. We began full on dating and we boxed it in very soon. Like I said, it was winter. The usual high is negative 10, so it’s nice to have a hibernation partner, even if gay. Chicago winters are no joke.
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| Who wears short shorts? |
Crazy was, well, absolutely bat shit crazy. He would throw temper tantrums on the volleyball court. He would yell at people on the team. Mind you, this is a non-competitive gay league. People were more into the boozy brunches that followed than the actual sport. His parents came and watched a few games. His dad really wanted to be our coach. He played intramural volleyball in college, so he got REALLY into the games, down to making me take off my favorite ring to play. He told me I could stub my finger setting the ball. I don't set. When I informed Mr. Crazy of my inability to set a ball, I could tell he was really disappointed with me, but he still made me fork over my ring.
Crazy would call his good friend and would yell at him on the phone for not going to the gym. He would curse and say he was a fat lard and needed to get his lazy ass to the gym. I should have known then that he was probably trying to motivate me, but I ignored it and would continue eating my Cheezits.
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| Proof of star tats |
Crazy also lived in the heart of Boystown. He never invited me to his apartment, ever. We dated for 3 months and never once was I allowed to come over. It was probably because he had posters of naked men gracing the walls. Crazy worked out at the gayest gym in Chicago. He worked out ALL the time. He had a great body – that is something I can not deny. He also loved his body. He would often lift up his shirt in my place to check out himself out in the mirror. He loved to flex and bang his stomach. He looked so manly flexing with his matching star tattoos on his biceps. He would wake up at 4:30AM so he could be at the gym right when they unlocked the door. I, on the other hand, opted to sleep.
My boss came to town one week and we were all going out to the bars that Friday night. I invited Crazy out. We were at a place that didn’t serve food so I asked if he could pick up Pot Belly for me, my boss and friend Nuge on his way over and we would obviously pay him back. He screamed at me on the phone. Screamed. “What do I look like, Pot Belly on wheels?” I said no, because he didn't have wheels, but more like Pot Belly on foot. He hung up on me. I was more pissed about the fact that I didn’t have food coming than him not coming. Thankfully I remembered I had a Grubhub app on my phone and solved that problem quickly. Oodles of Noodles to the rescue!
The next day, I went to brunch with Nathan. We went to CafĂ© Ba-Ba-Rebba and had a pitcher of Sangria and tons of tapas. We then went shopping and I bought 2 pairs of jeans and then bought a humidifier – different stores of course. I then walked home and napped. A few hours later, Crazy called and said he was on his way over to talk. The words, “we need to talk” is code for we’re done. I poured a glass of the finest wine Charles Shaw had to offer and read my magazine waiting on Crazy. He was on his way over from Community Service - he was such a winner on so many levels. Like I said, a mess is a fun friend but not dating material.
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| Bless you, Chuck! |
When he arrived, there I sat, drinking my 2 Buck Chuck and reading Us Weekly. Go ahead, judge me. Here is how it went down:
Crazy glared at me and proclaimed, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE HEALTHY TODAY?”
I was astonished. No one has ever asked me this question before. I stared at him, trying to comprehend the most ludicrous question I have ever heard.
He raised his voice and clapped his hands to the syllables, “WHAT – HAVE – YOU – DONE – HEAL – THY – TO – DAY," as if I was an f-ing moron.
I replied, “Well, I went to brunch with Nathan. I drank sangria but I ate all the fruit so that’s pretty healthy. I bought 2 new pairs of jeans, so I would consider that neither healthy nor unhealthy. I also bought a humidifier, which is very healthy – helps with dry skin. I didn’t take a cab and walked home, which is healthy. So I would say healthy vs. unhealthy..healthy is winning today.”
Crazy, “THAT’S IT. IF YOU CAN'T DEDICATE YOUR LIFE TO FITNESS OVER CHARLES SHAW, THIS IS NEVER GOING TO WORK.”
Me, “…..” I was dumbfounded. I kept thinking, did I hear that right?
Crazy, “YOU HEARD ME. IF YOU CAN'T DEDICATE YOUR LIFE TO FITNESS OVER CHARLES SHAW, THIS IS NEVER GOING TO WORK. YOU NEED TO BE COMMITTED TO FITNESS."
Me, “You’re right. This probably is not going to work out.”
Crazy, “SO THAT’S IT. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO COMPROMISE? YOU'RE NOT GOING TO COMMIT TO FITNESS?”
Me, “No. There is no compromise here.” (You can’t fix crazy.)
Crazy, "YOU'RE GOING TO CHOOSE THE JUICE OVER ME?"
Me, "Correct."
Crazy, “FINE. WE’RE DONE.”
Me, “Ok.”
Crazy storms out of my apartment, down to slamming my door. I was speechless and it takes a lot to make me speechless. I grabbed my coat, phone, wine and a pack of cigs I had hidden in the freezer and I went outside to call Nathan. As I am doing a reenactment, complete with the hand clapping, Crazy walks back.
Crazy, “SMOKING? I SEE HOW IT IS. I WAS COMING BACK TO APOLOGIZE AND WORK IT OUT BUT I CAN SEE THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY.”
Me, "....." Again, I was dumbfounded.
Crazy, "WE'RE DONE."
Me, "See ya. Nathan, did you hear that? Amazing."
And we never spoke again and I now have the greatest breakup line ever.
| Committed to Fitness. |
Side note: for Halloween that year, I dressed up as "Committed to Fitness." I wore a running shirt, running shorts, marathon medals, sweat bands, volleyball knee pads, soccer shin guards and I carried my tennis racket & bag. No one had any clue what I was except my friends, who loved it. I kill Halloween each year.











