I was in my early twenties and in a long-distance relationship with a guy. My best friend, her boyfriend, my boyfriend, and I all planned for a trip to a major theme park for a delayed celebration of graduating high school.

We graduated, and all four of us jumped into the job pool to save up for the trip. We were planning on a trip that was going to last nearly a week.

Things were going well. Everyone confirmed that time off had been granted for the dates set. Everyone confirmed that we had the money in our banks for the trip, for the cost of travel, for food, and even for buying the usual touristy, overpriced gift shop mementos that are iconic for such trips.

Then, the three of us were blindsided by my boyfriend about a month before the trip. He messaged us in a group chat we had set up for communicating about the trip.

Boyfriend: “Hi, all! Just coming on to let you know my new girlfriend is going to be joining us for our trip! No worries; all we need to do is call the hotel and reserve another room for the two of us. [My Name], you’re still in charge of that, right?”

I could only stare blankly at the chat. I was caught somewhere between numb disbelief and emotional agony. I started typing in that deadly calm way some people do when their rage is building.

Me: “How long have you had this new girlfriend?”

Boyfriend: “Oh, about a month. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew we were going to be enough of a thing to bring her along.”

I felt like I’d just been stabbed in the chest.

Me: “I see. Well, I’ve got some problems with this.”

Boyfriend: “Shoot. I’ll try to help you figure out the answers to your concerns!”

He ended the message with a smiley face emoji, which was NOT helping.

Me: “Okay. First of all, our budget is for four people in two rooms. You’re now dumping the costs for five people in three rooms. Not only will this add over a thousand dollars to our hotel bill, but it also disrupts our meal planning and travel expenses.”

Boyfriend: “No worries. I saved up! My girlfriend and I can both swing the added costs.”

At that point, my best friend and her boyfriend logged on to the group chat.

Best Friend: “Wait, hold on. What am I reading?!”

Best Friend’s Boyfriend: “WOW. I have NO words!”

Boyfriend: “I know it’s a bit of a surprise that an additional person is coming along, but I promise the extra costs won’t fall on you!”

Me: “…”

Yeah, I typed the ellipses into a text message. It was common in our chats to use those three dots to indicate speechlessness and to indicate that someone had just said or done something massively wrong and horrible. It was our chat version of seeing an expression of fury on someone’s face.

Best Friend: “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR G**D***ED MIND?!”

My boyfriend’s response was oddly casual.

Boyfriend: “What’s the problem? I said I’ll help you figure out any of your problems with adding a new person to the trip. Speaking of which, [My Name], what was your next concern?”

I was still deadly calm.

Me: “She wasn’t invited on the trip. She still isn’t. You can’t drop someone who was never invited into a group trip. To be blunt, she isn’t welcome.”

Boyfriend: “I know it’s kind of last-minute, but I promise the additional expenses won’t be on you. And she and I will have our own private room so you won’t be inconvenienced.”

Me: “Inconvenienced. Wow.”

Me: “…”

Me: “[Boyfriend], I’m honestly amazed how blasé you are about the bomb you just dropped on us — and worse, just dropped on me.”

Boyfriend: “I’m not sure what you mean?”

My best friend sent me a private message.

Best Friend: “HE’S NOT SURE WHAT YOU MEAN, [MY NAME]! ROFLMAO! HOLY CRAP! GO AHEAD! GIVE IT TO HIM WITH BOTH BARRELS!”

I responded in the group chat.

Me: “Well, this is the last ‘concern’ I have — one itty-bitty, teeny-tiny concern for you to address.”

Boyfriend: “Okay.”

Me: “Did it ever occur to you to break up with me FIRST before dating a new girlfriend?!”

There was silence. A long silence.

Then, my boyfriend sent me a message full of typos I won’t replicate here.

Boyfriend: “So, I’ve been meaning to tell you, [My Name]… This long-distance relationship just doesn’t seem to be working out. I mean, you know I love you, right?”

Me: “No. No, you don’t. You never did. You never REALLY cared. THAT is what hurts right now. Three years are down the drain because you couldn’t break it off in a kind manner before now.”

Boyfriend: “Hey, I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Me: “There is no IF. You did hurt me. You know you did. And you did it in the most callous, insensitive way I can imagine right now.”

Silence.

Me: “Don’t bother to show up. Your new side piece isn’t invited. And neither are you.”

I kicked him out of the group chat and blocked him from my instant messenger. My best friend arrived minutes later with a carton of my favorite ice cream. I utterly destroyed a box of tissues while we shared the ice cream and she badmouthed the crap out of him.

Ultimately, we all had to pay extra money anyway because he was no longer contributing to the previous total, so it was divided by three instead of by four. But at least it wasn’t an additional thousand more, just a few hundred.

A month after we got back from our trip, my now-ex-boyfriend messaged me on a chat program that I had forgotten to block him on. He apologized and seemed awfully confused and disappointed when I told him his apology was NOT accepted. He asked why we “couldn’t still be friends.”

I told him it was because he was a garbage human being and I pitied his new girlfriend. Then, I blocked him again.

On July 4th, my sister and I were texting about our upcoming barbecue. She was trying to say that we needed to make sure we had the meat thermometer for the chicken we were going to grill.

Sister: “We need to get the thermometer today for the chelicerae.”

Sister: “Jesus f***.”

Me: “WTF?”

Sister: “I typed CHICKEN! Excuse me while I Google!”

Me: “What is THAT word? Looks familiar, but…”

Sister: “Are you f****** KIDDING ME?!”

She then attaches a screenshot of her search results, which explain that chelicerae are “the mouthparts of the Chelicerata, an arthropod group that includes arachnids, horseshoe crabs, and sea spiders. Commonly referred to as ‘jaws’…”

Me: “Yes, [phone], let’s just check the temperature of our SPIDER JAWS.”

A friend just joined a beauty MLM (multi-level marketing company) and was trying to either rope their friends into joining, too, or nagging us to buy their products. One day, it was my time to get the unsolicited offer.

Friend: “You need to try this face cream! It’s amazing!”

Me: “No, thank you. I am using a cream from my dermatologist.”

Friend: “Why do you have that?”

Me: “I have sensitive and dry skin. This one works really well.”

Friend: “My cream is also great for dry skin. It’s all-natural, so you shouldn’t be afraid about it.”

Me: “No. As I said, I have sensitive skin.”

Friend: “But it’s natural! You can’t have a problem with natural ingredients!”

Me: “Eggs are natural, but they also give me a rash. So, really… no.”

Friend: “But it’s natural!”

I ignored the many texts after that and eventually had to block the number. I hope they find a better job soon.

Content Warning: Domestic Abuse

One night, I hopped on Facebook Messenger and left my sister a brief pick-me-up message.

Me: “Just wanted to check in with you. Know that I love you, and any time you need someone to listen to you, I’m right here!”

I then noticed I’d hit the wrong contact who had the same first name as her and sent the message to her. I corrected myself.

Me: “Oh, snap! Wrong [Name]!”

I sent the message to the intended recipient and went on about my day.

A few days later, I casually open my Facebook to see a message from someone I didn’t recognize. The letter was in all caps and laced with copious amounts of profanity. Thinking it was some moron who didn’t like a comment I’d made on a political video, I deleted it without reading it, blocked him, and moved along.

The following day, I got a message from the person I’d mistakenly sent the message to.

Friend: “Hi, I know that message was intended for your sister after she lost her job. I need you to do me a favor, though. Tell my soon-to-be ex-husband that (as well as the nature of our relationship) so that he knows what he backhanded me onto the floor over, subsequently ending a total of eight years together with three kids, since I’m not going to stay with any man who puts his hands on me. He’s actually the guy who sent you that message.”

It was one of those “I’m going to h*** for laughing at this” moments. Unblocking him, I simply wrote:

Me: “Bro, I have no idea what’s going on, but that message you saw was a misfire. I meant to send it to my sister. I don’t know your wife personally at all; I met her on a programming forum about six months ago. If you’d taken the time to read our chat history, our topics have included coding, cats, anime, ‘Final Fantasy’, and cleaning skunk odor off my dog. This is aside from the fact that I live abroad as an independent contractor (currently in Tokyo) and haven’t even been back in the US for going on fourteen years. Good luck with your divorce, though. Maybe some anger management courses might be in your best interest?”

He didn’t answer, but true to her word, his wife took the kids and divorced him. I really hope he feels like a genius.

This conversation takes place over instant messaging at work.

Me: “Can I take April fifteenth as a vacation day?”

Boss: “No problem. Trouble with taxes?”

Me: “No, actually, it’s death.”

Boss: “?!”

Me: “The fifteenth is Good Friday, and my choir has several services to cover.”

Boss: “Ah, the other certainty of life. Break a leg.”