Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me - Ben Karlin [1]
The Heart Is a Choking Hazard by Stephen Colbert
Don’t Come on Your Cat by Neal Pollack
Technology Can Be Friend and Foe
Eggs Must Be Broken . . . by Tom Shillue
Women Are Never Too Young to Mess with Your Head by Larry Wilmore
Keep Some Secret Admirers Secret by Eric Slovin
A Grudge Can Be Art by Andy Selsberg
I Still Like Jessica by Rodney Rothman
Don’t Leave Too Much Room for the Holy Spirit by Tom McCarthy
I Am a Gay Man by Dan Savage
Nine Years Is the Exact Right Amount of Time to Be in a Bad Relationship by Bob Odenkirk
A Dog Is No Reason to Stay Together by Damian Kulash, Jr.
You Too Will Get Crushed by Ben Karlin
You Can Encapsulate Feelings of Regret, Panic, and Desperation in a Two-and-a-Half-Minute Pop Song by Adam Schlesinger, Professional Songwriter
I’m Easy by Paul Simms
Things More Majestic and Terrible Than You Could Ever Imagine by Todd Hanson
Always Make Her Feel Like She’s #1
Dirty Girls Make Bad Friends by A. J. Jacobs
Being Awkward Can Be a Prophylactic Against Dry Humping by Matt Goodman
Dating a Stripper Is a Recipe for Perspective by Patton Oswalt
Sometimes You Find a Lost Love, Sometimes You Don’t by Bob Kerrey
Don’t Enter a Karaoke Contest Near Smith College; You Will Lose to Lesbians by Jason Nash
Get Dumped Before It Matters by David Rees
It Wasn’t Me, It Was Her by Rick Marin
She Wasn’t the One by Bruce Jay Friedman
Notes Towards a Unified Theory of Dumping by Sam Lipsyte
Contributors
Acknowledgments
This one’s for the ladies
“Time heals some wounds.”
—American folk saying
Foreword
I Think My Son Is a Catch
by Barbara Karlin
My son is a real catch and shame on any girl who’s ever thought otherwise.
He’s tall, but not too. He runs marathons and scales mountains. And of course he has those gorgeous blue eyes. And on top of it all, he’s funny. Of course I didn’t think everything he did was so funny when he was a kid. I used to tell him “that’s not so funny” all over the house. Back then I called him a smart aleck but now I call him “creative.” If you make money from being a smart aleck, you’re creative. If you don’t make money, you’re a putz. So, he’s creative. Come on, girls, why would you break up with my creative son?
And a good time he’ll show you. You want fine restaurants? My Benjamin knows them all—and he isn’t afraid to spend his money. Not on me of course, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about. You want travel and adventure? He’s been all over the world. Without me. A great communicator you want? Well, I know he’ll call you more than he calls me. You want someone who can sing and dance? Forget about it.
Catches like my Benjamin you don’t find every day. Did I mention he can cook? I’m not talking brisket or chicken soup. I’m talking very fancy food I’ve never heard of. He’ll make things so pretty you won’t know whether to eat them or wear them. And then he makes these funny little jokes about you not appreciating it on the same “level” as he does. I’m not sure what that means. But if you want to try organic fiddlehead ferns, he’s your man.
Whenever a girl would dump my son—and he had his share of heartbreak as a boy—I would always say the same thing to him: “Those girls are all fools and idiots. They don’t know what they’re missing.” He would always say, “You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.” He had me there.
But I’d like to think just because he’s my son, and I gave birth to him and fed him from my breast and raised him, doesn’t mean I can’t look at things objectively. Sure I can! I guess you can tell how much I love my son and what a great catch he is. So if you catch him, please tell him to call his mother.
Introduction
by Nick Hornby
At the time of writing, I have been happily married for thirteen months, to a woman I have been living with for eight years. Thanks to the book you are currently holding in your hand, the implications of this are now clear to me: not only have I learned nothing whatsoever for the best part of a decade, but also the things I did learn are beginning