![]() For one, if RJ lays a beatdown, there’s a good chance he’ll wind up charged with assault. Allowing him to beat up my ex for being a douche and a cheater may assuage my decimated ego and help heal my broken heart, but it’s not a great idea. However, my brother is an NHL player, and a father and a husband. ![]() ![]() That he’s this fired up on my behalf makes me feel marginally better about the whole thing. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come to Seattle and beat this douche down? I can leave first thing in the morning.” My brother RJ is at his in-laws’ house for the weekend, which is an hour and a half outside the city. I guess that’s what I get for surprising Joey by arriving two days earlier than expected. The one my brother bought for us as a housewarming gift. The icing on this crap cake? Less than an hour ago I walked in on my boyfriend, Joey-now my ex-plowing into someone who wasn’t me on our brand-new living room couch. ![]() But add in one of my suitcases taking a detour to Alaska-or maybe it’s Nunavut who the hell knows?-and the fact that my remaining suitcase now has a broken handle and is missing a wheel, and this day just keeps getting worse. ![]() I can get over the four-hour flight delay from LA to Seattle and sitting beside a man who smelled like old cheese and three-day-old underwear on the plane. As far as bad days go, this is one of the worst I’ve had in a very long time. ![]()
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