08.25.06
The Hungry Cabbie Eats The Outer Boroughs: Blue Ribbon Brooklyn
“Leave the gun. Take the cannoli. ” Those fateful words changed my life. They were spoken by Clemenza in The Gothfather. Bruno Kirby played the young Clemenza in The Gotfather Part II. Find out how to get from Bruno Kirby to heirloom tomatoes without going through Kevin Bacon in today’s Gothamist column:
Turn the speakers up and visit www.famousfatdave.com
Jeremy said,
August 25, 2006 at 9:11 pm
I was reading the LAist and this girl Jen writes the sex collumn and it reminded me of what you would write. I think you should start an advice blog as well. Here’s the entry:
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Dear Jen,
How do you get over a broken heart? About four months ago, my boyfriend of over six years and I called it quits. While it was somewhat mutual, I can’t say it was what I really wanted.
I’m generally OK unless he’s “around.” A phone call or e-mail
gets me upset, and a recent visit has had me crying for days. I know we can’t try to fix things. Still, I’m having a hard time moving on. I have a new job, great friends and have been dating (and having sex) like crazy. Yet none of it gets this man out of my mind. I miss him all the time, and worry I
still love him. Please tell me it gets better.
-Still Hurting
Dear Hurting,
I was heating up some leftover lasagna the other day, put it in the microwave for a minute or so, and it was still cold, so I punched in another minute and Jesus Christ it still wasn’t hot enough, and I had to wait a whole fifty-five seconds more before it finally got it together and some cheese started melting around here. It’s an old microwave, and I swore right then and there that I was going to get a new one because this was ridiculous.
But then, people, we all know who the ridiculous one really is, now don’t we?
It’s so easy to lose perspective in this jiffy lubed world of ours, where if the stupid page doesn’t download in less than ten seconds, we log off in a huff. You were with this guy for six years, and now, a mere four months into your break-up, you’re wondering when the torture will stop? Oh dear – look what we’ve done to ourselves.
Here’s the thing. Regardless of how speedy speed dial gets, the body remains unaffected. And unimpressed. It will always take nine months to make a baby, years to recover from emotional trauma and a near lifetime to grow out a bad haircut.
If you say you’re OK unless he contacts you then….tell him to stop contacting you. This whole “let’s still be friends” trip is a giant, steaming, fly-ridden pile of wishful thinking. All it does is pick at the already slow-healing scab, and prolong your pain. Erase him from your cellphone, delete him from your Myspace page, keep on fuckin’ and someday, when your heart is done lollygagging its way down Woe Is Me Road, you’ll feel better. I promise.
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