STFU, Good Advice for Many

(After listening to W go on and on over the phone about Q and “their” new house and how she’s moving this weekend and he’ll move when his lease is up in March and how it has three bedrooms and a garage and yadda, yadda, yadda. . .)

TS: Um. . . I’m going to. . . uh. . . say something. . . I mean. . . I want to. . . uh. . . um. . .

W: Go ahead. Say what you want to say.

TS: Okay, I’m going to say this once, and then I will never speak of it again.

W: Okay.

TS: I’m concerned that you’re moving awfully quickly, and I hope you don’t get hurt. It just seems like you are rushing things with her. Okay, there it is. I’ve said it, and I won’t bring it up again.

W: I appreciate it. (Not 100% sure whether he meant my telling him or my not telling him again although my guess would be the latter.)

SILENCE

W: Okay, well bye.

TS: Bye.

(He’s called three more times today since then, always with a “perfectly legitimate” reason to need to talk to me even though all that he called about could have been done via e-mail. Feeling a little bit lonely buddy now that Q is working? What is it that you want here? Why do I care? And could you stop telling me all about how wonderful Q is in every stinkin’ way? Who cares? Who the f*** cares? I get it! You got a girlfriend, one who wants to live with you and be with you always and bend over backwards for you. Great. Good. Wonderful. Now STFU please. I have my own issues to deal with thank you very much.)

I swear I’ve tried to ignore it, to just smile and nod and mentally roll my eyes, but I finally just had to say something. I had to or my head would have exploded, and that would have made such a mess for the janitorial service to clean up in my cubicle. So yeah, I’m a petty jealous bitch. There ya’ go. Taking the high road takes a lot out of a girl, and sometimes the low road beckons so enticingly it becomes impossible not to go there.