How to Lose Your (Free) Internet in 10 Days

Little did I know I was living below “Alex Forest” from the infamous Fatal Attraction movie when I moved into my quaint vintage apartment.

She, like most mean girls, appears first as the sweetest, kindest person who ever graced the planet. And she did so gracefully walk. She had perfect posture and seemed to always know proper etiquette, especially in conversation. Even when she held her cigarette it was like watching an old Hollywood starlet. Something about her was intriguing, a bit mysterious and often left me feeling uneasy. There was some sort of wall or façade I could not clearly decipher. All I knew was to keep her on my good side. I had a sneaking suspicion that if I ever crossed the line, there would be no return.

Yet she still seemed kind, and we had an agreement: I take care of her cat when she was out of town, and she would let me use her internet. (Hey, when you’re a single teacher, you’ll do what it takes.) By the way, I hate cats.

We mainly saw each other in passing, and she would often tell me stories of her tumultuous relationship. They eventually broke up, and we soon became more acquainted and would often meet for dinner. (That’s what single girls do. We hang out with other single girls hoping by chance we’ll meet Prince Charming. Sometimes, if you’re desperate, the frog will suffice.)

Needless to say, she eventually rekindled the old flame, and she and Mr. Tumultuous were back together. I knew very little detail about their relationship, nor did I care.

They were a unique combo. He is a PhD student, almost by definition an intellectual, and his idea of a good read is Cervantes or Freud; her favorite read is People and her favorite TV show is The Real Housewives of Everywhere.

As a friend once said, she is “tits on a stick.” And trust me, they were all you saw. And she reveled in the attention, and especially in other women’s jealousy. “My dad bought these for me for my birthday!” she would chirp.

She would often give me dating nuggets, too, like: “You should always date a guy uglier than you, to keep him around, of course.”

I was nothing like her, but I wanted to remain in her good graces regardless. After all, I did get free internet.

One day, she suggested introducing me to her boyfriend’s best friend. Meeting at a local Italian restaurant, our conversation was great. This guy was intelligent, successful and obviously, genuine.

We two couples hung out three or four times… until it hit the fan.

Picture this: two couples laughing together in the warm night air, enjoying an after dinner treat at the cute local yogurt shop. It seemed so tranquil; however, there was tension in the air. I had arrived late to dinner, and my poor date told me that their argument had been so vociferous that he had to yell and threaten to walk out before they would stop. So we spent the next hour and a half doing all we could striving to keep the peace. What better than a sweet treat to lighten the mood?

Things were fine until disaster struck. We’d been chatting for a few minutes when I made a vague reference to something her boyfriend posted on Facebook. To be clear, I was making fun of him—he posts dumb things on Facebook all the time. Funny things, but dumb. She immediately jerked her head around, glared at me with rage and snapped, “You’re friends on Facebook? Who requested who?!”

I was stunned and knew I was in trouble. Timidly, I replied, “I requested him.” She leapt up and stormed away, screaming expletives throughout the calm quiet neighborhood. I was incredulous. Remember, I’m sitting there with my date, his friend, who SHE set me up with and whom she knew I liked a lot.

Her boyfriend followed her to her car and kneeled behind the open driver’s door, trying desperately to calm her down. I forgot to mention, he had been sent to the emergency room in an ambulance literally the night before, for a latent heart condition, and had been instructed to do all in his power to minimize stress. The last thing he needed was to calm down crazy.

Suddenly, car door still open, she threw the car into reverse and stepped on the gas, nearly knocking him to the ground. He jumped out of the way with inches to spare as she sped away into the night.

And that’s how I learned they weren’t Facebook friends.

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I later came to find out that she thought I was trying to seduce him via Facebook. She thought I added him as a friend not because he’d introduced me to a great guy, but because I wanted him, and that Facebook was my in. Seriously. She actually thought this.

The next evening, while on my date with my new guy, she called to tell me how disrespectful it was to Facebook her boyfriend. “You and [your man] can hang out with one another, and I will hang out with [my man]… but we will never hang out again“ she said, voice dripping with venom. I was sad, and hurt, but mostly confused. What had I done wrong?

A couple days later, her boyfriend broke it off once again – this time, thankfully, for good. A week later, I went to log on to my internet, and couldn’t. Turns out the network name had been changed. It now read: “Not Yours.”

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This experience reinforced several lessons. No matter how shiny the veneer, what’s beneath the surface can be ugly. Insecurity uninhibited fuels jealousy, and anger, and irrationality, and rage. True friends are hard to come by. Mean girls suck.

But in the end, the simplest lessons are the best of all: sometimes in life, things just don’t make sense.

Or, as that poetic sage Kanye West once said so eloquently: That shit cray.