The Story of Jake Gyllenhaal, or The New Year’s Eve That Never Happened

Editor’s Note: This very timely post comes from a new contributor to this blog, whom I like to call the Loggster. The Loggster is one of my best friends, earning her nickname for being one of the calmest, nicest people I know. (Log -> Boring person -> Loggster. Get it?!) However, she also shares my special Superwoman powers of ATTRACTING ALL THE WRONG GUYS, and so her voice on this site is highly cherished.

Dear Dbag Addict,

In response to your most recent inquiry, “What’s the worst way a guy has ever broken up with you?”, here goes my tale of the New Year’s Eve that never happened.

The Boy Who Cried Love

I Know How To Pick'Em · by Marina Khorosh

Illustration by the multi-talented Mr. Fernando Diaz of Wolves – listen to them HERE!

Sometime in the middle of the endless Winter of 2013, my hubby-in-law called me, sounding way more excited than usual.

“I found the perfect guy for you, and he is sitting right in front of me,” he proudly announced.

Knowing all too well that the guy in mention was probably listening to me on speaker, I didn’t attempt to obtain any supplementary information. Instead, I agreed to meet my potential soul mate for a drink later that week, knowing nothing but his first name (Jewish, rhymes with Theo) and age (25 – not ideal, but tolerable to my 26). In a completely atypical move, I didn’t even attempt any basic Facebook stalking, deciding to let fate take its course.