Dear Captain Obvious: I just got back from a long trip and decided, while I was away, to end the May-December relationship between my boyfriend and me. Needless to say, he didn’t take it well when we spoke. Perhaps it was the way I did it—unceremoniously, while waiting tables at a coffee shop—that made him particularly hostile toward me. Hard as it was to rip his heart out and eat it, I felt it was the right choice, because deep down he didn’t regard me as an equal. How do I get over him? Lovelorn.
Dear Lovelorn: Normally, I would suggest that you avoid all the places you used to hang out together as a couple, but that would be hard to do in this town, besides, how else would your paths cross allowing you to stare at each other in awkward silence from across the room? Which leaves only one option: talk about it ad nauseam until the ears of your friends and family bleed. Then have a meaningless fling with an old rival who is about to get married and say it only happened once and therefore absolves you from taking responsibility for it. You’ve just been cured.
Dear Captain Obvious: I’m a tired cliché in the form of an opportunistic, self-absorbed mother who has all the maternal instinct of a wire hanger-wielding Joan Crawford. When I received word that my only child was marrying a mid-western business tycoon I dropped everything to be by her side. Our reunion, however, fell a little flat, and my daughter is not exactly embracing my attempts to punctuate her memorable day with my malevolence. Perhaps I should try a different approach. Any thoughts? Mommy Dearest.
Dear Mommy Dearest: Go for the jugular I always say; send your daughter on a bogus errand and put the moves on her husband. This might be a little hard considering that they are about to get married and, I assume, but I doubt a woman such as yourself would let a trivial thing like dignity get in the way of what she wants. If I’m right, and I usually am, you’ll be walking around in lingerie and behaving inappropriately in no time.
Dear Captain Obvious: The woman I treated like a poor man’s version of my dead wife and shortly thereafter shooed away to New York refused my marriage proposal after I popped up unannounced on her doorstep. I was taken aback to be honest. I thought for sure she would say yes, but she turned me down and said she’ll move back to town on the condition that we take it slow and be friends. Easy for her to say! I, on the other hand, have needs that only a friends-with-benefits situation can satisfy. How can I turn this around in my favor? Wife Wanted.
Dear Wife Wanted: Why waste precious moments with a woman who doesn’t want you when a mail-order bride from an economically depressed country could fulfill all your needs and more? You sound to me like a man who is not so much looking for a wife, as he is a stepford wife. So quit denying your manly urges and begin your online search, stat!
Dear Captain Obvious: The happiest day of my life almost turned out to be a doozy when my BFF vowed she would never attend (she currently has a beef with me over the fact that I hooked up with her dad and didn’t tell her about it until long after the fact). When I saw her sitting in the back I quickly glanced outside to see if hell was freezing over, when I was certain it wasn’t I gave her a grateful smiled and glided to the alter to say my vows. Should I take this as a sign that all is forgiven? There is one more secret that I have—I’m pregnant with my BFF’s sibling. I wanted to wait until the first trimester is over to announce the pregnancy, but maybe I should tell her now to heal the rift between us? World’s Greatest Girlfriend.
Dear W.G.G.: Don’t count your eggs before they hatch, missy. As a matter of fact, close that barn door and forget those eggs even exist because I’m telling you there is no better way to guarantee your friend’s eternal revulsion than to say, “I’m pregnant with your dad’s baby!” The U.S.S. Reconciliation has sailed, sweetheart. Wave goodbye.
Dear Captain Obvious: After the sub-prime mortgage crises swallowed up my 1920 Tudor Revival Home into a black hole of repossession, I lost all hope of clawing my way back to financial autonomy. That all changed when I opened up a business called Grand Romantic Gestures, which caters to members of the Genoa City glitterati that hate the idea of just “dinner and movie” and instead want to impress their loved ones with the most over-the-top romantic idea they can think of. Orders have been pouring in recently from one wealthy client who commissioned a dining experience in a Monet painting. I’m constantly looking for ideas to grow the business perhaps your readers can send in a few? Hopeless Romantic.
Dear Hopeless Romantic: I’m sorry but we peasants have no idea what romance is let alone be able to offer suggestions on how to invoke it in others. We could never contribute ideas for your affluent clientele so please don’t expect us to reciprocate with anything more than Honeymooners reruns and TV dinners to woo our partners. We’re only simple-minded folk after all.
Originally published: Jun-21-2008
