I dated a woman for a little over a year when I was twenty-five to twenty-six. She was funded by her family in China but she preferred to take whatever work she could find to give herself some extra cash. One of those odd jobs she took was to house sit for someone for a week. When her time there was coming to an end, she asked me to come pick her up and help her finish her final tasks. The homeowners had a dog, some small- to medium-sized poodle mix.

Girlfriend: “We need to give [Dog] a bath before we go.”

She had never had a pet of her own, but I grew up with dogs and cats so I am well versed in typical dog behavior and care. We entered the master bedroom and I made sure to close the bedroom door. Once I went into the bathroom and started filling up the tub, the dog figured out what we were going to do so she stood with her nose pressed against the bedroom door as she wished to flee.

Once I got the tub ready, I went back out of the bathroom to figure out why my girlfriend had not brought the dog to me yet. I found her kneeling by the dog.

Girlfriend: “Come on, [Dog]. Oh, please, [Dog], it’s okay. Please, [Dog]…”

Me: “[Girlfriend], you’re not going to talk the dog into doing what you want her to do; you just have to make her do it.”

The dog seemed pretty gentle and timid so I bent down and picked her up with one arm under her chest and the other under her hips and carried her into the bathroom. She didn’t struggle as I put her in the tub and she eventually relaxed as I showed my girlfriend how to wash a dog.

When we were done, I grabbed a bath towel to dry the dog and my girlfriend angrily rebuked me.

Girlfriend: “What are you doing?! You can’t use their towels for this!”

Me: “Why not? This is what they are for.”

She was aghast and impatient with my apparent foolishness and rudeness.

Girlfriend: “No! It’s rude to use towels to clean a dog! This is not your house!”

Me: “They’ve had this dog for years; she’s obviously used to being bathed. I guarantee you that they use their towels to dry their dog every time.”

My girlfriend couldn’t be persuaded that it is normal for dog owners to dry their dogs with towels. She decided the best thing to use to dry the dog was… the blanket she’d been sleeping with. I told her that she wasn’t making sense but tried to dry the dog with the blanket. Obviously, the blanket was not designed to be the optimal moisture absorber, so it took a lot of rubbing to try and get the dog halfway dry. Her fur was still matted and damp and she started rubbing herself against the floor.

To my horror, my girlfriend beckoned the dog to the sliding glass door to put her in the backyard.

Me: “No, don’t let her out yet. Let her dry more first!”

Girlfriend: “She has to stay in the backyard when we leave.”

Me: “I know, but let’s do that last. She’s just going to roll in the dirt and get muddy.”

She didn’t listen to me and put the dog outside without another word. I watched as the dog immediately rubbed herself on the ground and got her wet fur caked in mud.

I helped my girlfriend put the blanket in the washing machine and run it, put away clean dishes, and do a few other tasks before I drove her home while contemplating the bizarre experience. It probably comes to no surprise that we broke up later; I could no longer deal with her stubbornly sticking to such strange expectations.

After work one day, I stopped by the store to get some stuff for dinner. I had gotten little sleep the night before, and I accidentally locked my keys in my car. They had fallen out of my purse, or I thought I put them in my purse; I honestly don’t know how I did it. I am surprised I got to the store.

My car windows were up completely, so there was no way of somehow jamming something in there to unlock it. However, I had a spare key at the apartment, so I called my boyfriend.

Me: “Hey, I accidentally locked myself out of the car. Can you bring me my spare car key?”

Boyfriend: “How did you even do that?”

Me: “I honestly don’t remember — something involving my purse. Can you bring me my car key please? I’ll get you Pop-Tarts.”

Boyfriend: “Just unlock your car.”

Me: “I can’t. My keys are locked in the car.”

Boyfriend: “No, you can unlock it. Just stick your hand through the window and unlock it.”

Me: “No, I can’t. My window is up.”

Boyfriend: “Get a coat hanger.”

Me: “I can’t. My window is completely up. There is absolutely no way I can get anything through my window.”

Boyfriend: “Yes, you can. Just stick your hand through the window and unlock it!”

I honestly couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation.

Me: “Listen to me very carefully. My window is completely rolled up, meaning there is no way for me to put my hand through the window and unlock it. There is no way to put a coat hanger through the window because the window, all the windows, are completely rolled up!”

Boyfriend: “Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

Me: “BRING. ME. MY. SPARE. CAR. KEY.”

Boyfriend: “WHY?!”

I honestly thought he was messing with me, but he really sounded aggravated and like I wasn’t understanding him at all.

Me: “I will tell you later. Please bring me my spare car key from the apartment. Please.”

Boyfriend: “Okay, fine. I don’t see why you need it.”

I hung up, completely frustrated. I went inside and got my shopping done. I saw [Boyfriend]’s car pull into the store’s parking lot and headed outside to meet him. He handed me my spare key.

Me: “Come here, [Boyfriend].”

Boyfriend: “Ooooh, am I going to get a kiss?!”

No.

Me: “Look into my car, [Boyfriend].”

He looked into my car.

Me: “Do you see my keys in there, [Boyfriend]?”

Boyfriend: “Yes?”

Me: “Try to get them out, [Boyfriend].”

He tried to open my car door. It was locked.

Boyfriend: “I can’t; it’s locked.”

Me: “Try to get them out without my spare car key.”

He then proceeded to look for a window crack. There was none.

Boyfriend: “I can’t. There isn’t a way to stick my hand or anything in there to unlock.”

I stared at him. He didn’t understand why I was staring at him.

I handed him my spare key and told him to show me how to get the car keys out now. He then unlocked the door, rolled down my window, locked the car, shut the door, and then reached his arm through the OPEN window and unlocked it.

Boyfriend: “See, like that. Unlock it like that!”

At this point, I had such a massive headache from him not understanding why it was literally impossible for me to do any of that that I just put the groceries into my car, got into my car, and drove home.

That night at home, he asked if I was mad at him.

Me: “I wouldn’t say mad. I’m more… frustrated… annoyed… tired… baffled.”

Boyfriend: “Well, I can understand, especially if you couldn’t simply unlock your door like I showed you today.”

I went and got high after that.

Two weeks later, we decided to go to the downtown area for our date night. Before heading downtown, we had to get gas. I was waiting in his car when he rolled down his window and unlocked it from the outside by sticking his arm through THE OPEN WINDOW.

Boyfriend: “Seeee, like that. Next time your keys are locked in your car, unlock it like that.”

He later brought it up to my mom at dinner. She also tried to explain to him why his idea wouldn’t work AT ALL, but he was determined to make sense of it, when he couldn’t because the f****** WINDOW WAS ROLLED UP.

That was two years ago. I am still very much dating him; in fact, we are engaged now. I love him deeply; he is a good man. He just happens to be an idiot.

I have just gotten to work and I go into the locker room where I ran into one of my coworkers. She begins to ask me about my boyfriend, who works in a different department. He is three years older than me. Also, my mother works at the same store, as well, in yet another department.

Coworker: “You and [Boyfriend] have been together for a while now, haven’t you?”

Me: “Yeah, coming up on two years in July!”

Coworker: “You work opposite shift times, right?”

Me: “Yeah. It means we don’t get to see each other that often. Sometimes we can go weeks before we can hang out.”

Coworker: “When was the last time you saw him?”

Me: “Last week on Tuesday. I went over to his house and we watched movies.”

Coworker: “And… your mom is okay with that? With you hanging out alone with him and staying the night with him?”

Me: *Confused* “Um… yeah?”

Coworker: “Wait, how old are you?”

Me: “Thirty-two.”

Coworker: “OH! You’re an adult!”

I started laughing. People often think I’m a lot younger than I am, but I can’t help but wonder if people really thought that my boyfriend was some creep.

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I live in Italy. I’ve always been a fan of British men’s clothing, especially the country, gentlemanly style, but as a young student, I cannot justify the expense. While on a vacation in Cambridge, my girlfriend spots a jacket on the stand of a secondhand clothes vendor. It’s just what I am after: single-breasted with notch lapels and four-button cuffs, in a warm green corduroy. It’s as British as a red phone booth, it fits my size, and the price is a bargain. Of course, we snatch it up.

Once we’re back home, my girlfriend is getting ready to take the jacket to the dry cleaner and starts laughing.

Me: “What’s so funny?”

She points at the label stitched within the inside pocket: “Made in Italy”.

This story is part of the Editors’ Choice 2021 roundup!

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One of the best things about being thirty and older is that you develop a low tolerance for drama in partnerships, gaining a deeper perspective in life as you discover that there is so much more out there than needing to have a significant other at all times.

I ended a four-month-long roller coaster of a relationship with a twenty-six-year-old after deciding that there were too many things about her personality that just didn’t rest well with me. After three months of silence, she contacted me and promised that she would work on her personal issues, and for reasons unclear to me, I elected to give her one last chance on the condition that we take things slowly.

After only a week of communicating only by phone and Facebook, she left me a message.

Girl: “Okay, you know what? I’m done playing around. If you don’t want to be with me, have it your way. I’ve met this guy from [City] and he treats me with way more respect than you ever did!”

She listed all kinds of things about him.

Girl: “I feel strong and safe with him. He is going to be going to [Location] for a vacation and he wants me to come along — and you know what? I’m going with him! It’ll be just him and me! So there! I hope you feel happy now that you blew it with me! Don’t even bother trying to contact me because I’m changing my number! Have a nice life!”

Had I been twenty-one, I would have been ringing her back and trying anything to make her happy. But now, having had all the experiences, I…

…deleted the message, grabbed my tennis racket, and headed for the courts.

Amusingly enough, she contacted me again only a week later.

Girl: “Here is my new number if you ever want to talk and fix things between us.” 

This was later followed several days later with:

Girl: “Okay, I’m sorry. That guy doesn’t really exist; I made it up to make you mad. Can we start over?” 

Neither message got a response. I’m still single, but I’ve learned that it’s better to be happy and alone than to be miserable in a relationship full of drama!

This story is part of our Best Of June 2021 roundup!

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