Column: Pssst ...
To banish the lover from his memory is very easy, says JOY editor Susanne Frank.
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I had to dispose of my friend
For ten days, five hours and 27 minutes I'm single again. I had to dispose of my friend. As he says, because of an unimportant detail. Say: He did not understand that I did not understand that his ex still lived with him four months after the breakup!
Still, I cry that the contact lenses are swimming. The last mosquito that stung me had to be admitted to the Betty Ford clinic because of my Chardonnay consumption. And my friends are annoyed by the POGs (problem-oriented conversations) only the AB Rangehen. But I just want to know what I have to do to quickly forget the gas man?
Not that my ex heater meter or the like would have been. He only had such a high-flying thing from the beginning. I should have known. At the latest when he outed - as opposed to me - as a militant dark sleeper and in a night and Nebelaktion tried to staple a blanket in front of my bedroom window.
Only the threat of shaming his Gucci shoes with profane plastic tensioners and buying no organic milk stopped him from turning my bright bedroom into a Neanderthal cave. As a punishment I woke up every Sunday shortly after sunrise from the feeling of being stared at. Just ignore it - he kept staring.
A one-night stand is like brushing your teeth
This time one floor lower. Felt like the rabbit in front of the snake. Okay, put it dead. Too late. "Shhhhhhatz!", It snorted in my ear. So, eyes open. "You do not sleep at all!" Triumphant grin. In times of Formula 1, this problem could still be solved easily: "Herzl, go watch car racing!" Flöt. But every race has an end and even worse - not every event takes place overseas. By the way: Since then I consider the time difference to be the invention of the century.
What did my best friend tell me recently about ex-forgetting? "Treat yourself to a one-night stand. It works like brushing your teeth after bad food. " Only where? Favorite bar? Supermarket? Gym? Perfect! One of those Hey-baby-you-wanna-be-on-my-device guys with nothing but muscles is sitting on the Butterfly machine.
I'm flirting, feeling great, and the gas man has totally evaporated from my head. Jiippie! The Conan for arms makes cow eyes and trots behind me for a taxi. At home, he examined extensively my bedroom. "Do you have a blanket that I can hang in front of the window?" He asks. Forgetting is not so easy!
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