Whiny Little Titty Baby

Did I ever tell you about the time my ex husband tried to jump out of our speeding car in dramatic fashion because he’s basically a whiny little titty baby? Yeah, the memory surfaced recently when I was thinking about how much I miss driving a stick. It was a really nice car, stopped on a dime before he could hurl himself into a ditch.

You may be wondering what would drive (no pun intended) a grown man to do such a thing. Well, turns out the asshole who would drive HIS stick into any willing participant, was jealous that I had the nerve to dance with someone who didn’t look like Elaine from Seinfeld on the dance floor. He started a good old fashioned bar brawl over it and nearly got arrested—over me dancing with another man, not over his inability to move his body fluidly to music, although it was an arrestable offense.

So, I managed to get us outta there before the cops arrived. Long story short, on the way home, he was so drunk that he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the passenger car door at about 60 mph, and threatened to jump, at which point I slammed on the brakes—front and rear four-piston Brembos made the decel sooo smooth—anyway, he got out of the car and started walking. Thing is, it wasn’t the first time he’d done that! Drama queen. I shoulda called his bluff. #storytimethreads #narcissisticex #brembos