I'm in Ari-ZOO-na, I Promise!

A few months ago, my best friend, Annette (a.k.a. Netty), started dating this really cool, super hip New Zealander whom we nicknamed “Zoolander.”  Side note:  my closest group of friends has this knack for creating nicknames for the boys we date.  We came up with this gimmick in law school, and it’s been the premise of many a good laugh ever since.  Some examples so you get the drift are:  

1) Southie (the boy I dated who was from, well, Southie, Boston),

2) Gentleman Caller (a blonde Southern boy straight out of A Streetcar Named Desire),

3) Blob (his real name was Bob and he turned into a major blob),

4) Rockstarnerd (an intellectual property lawyer who played in a rock band by night),

5) TW (who was literally a Train Wreck),

6) BrXan (whose name was BrYan but when he dumped my friend he became BrXan).

Anyway, Netty’s latest dish we called “Zoolander,” and his nickname became more appropriate than we could have ever imagined at its inception.

Zoo (for short) and Netty dated for the past six months.  They were inseparable during their honeymoon bliss period – holding hands, stolen kisses in the corner, nightly slumber parties, baby talk, the works.  He very quickly ingratiated himself into her life as well as the lives of her friends, me included.  They truly seemed in love. 

About a month ago, Netty called me one night and was like:  “Zoo is working for the next two weeks in Arizona so we’re not really seeing each other much, BUT he’s promised to fly back on both weekends to see me in Charlotte, hooray!”  Okay… that was quite the change but whatever…    

The first weekend came around, and this time Netty wasn’t quite as jubilant: “Zoo’s flight out of Arizona got canceled.  He just called me from the tarmac as the captain was literally taking the airplane back to the gate due to a mechanical failure.  Bummer, huh?”  Yeah, bummer… 

Then, the second weekend came and with it another call from Netty: “What are the chances?  Zoo’s flight out of Arizona got canceled again!  I’m so bummed.”  Hmm.  Not being one to paint the pretty picture, I told Netty that there was no way in hell Zoo’s second flight got canceled out of Arizona.  In fact, there was very little chance that his first flight had been canceled.  Netty protested: “No, you’re wrong, because Zoo called me from his hotel while he was eating a sandwich!  He even described the sandwich (tuna fish because he’s a veg) and where he got it from across the street!”  Fair enough.  What hotel?

The Fairmount in Phoenix. 

So, I called the Fairmount while, per my direct orders, Netty called US Air regarding any and all canceled flights for the day.

Imagine my lack of surprise when I learned from the hotel clerk that Zoolander had “checked out that very morning” and from US Air that there had been “no canceled flights thus far, no, not even from Arizona.”

I was onto him.  No one messes with my best friend.  He was a goner.  I wanted his home telephone number.  My bet was that Mr. Ari-ZOO-na was no longer in Arizona but sitting in his living room in Charlotte with… well duh… another woman!  I went to my office where I knew the caller ID was blocked, and I called him.  I waited for the ring… ring… ri…pick up!

“Hello.  This is ‘insert real name’ speaking.”

You’ve got to be f-----g kidding me?  Seriously?  I immediately hung up and contemplated how to give Netty the bad news.  Only one way to do it – upfront with no frills attached.  Netty was pissed to say the least and was even about to drive over to his pad DOWN THE BLOCK to make a scene, but alas we decided the best thing to do was – what else? – send a text:

“You’re not in Arizona.  I know.”

To which he responded:  “I’m in Arizona, I promise!”

Barf.  Vomit.  Can you believe this guy?  Netty called him (on his home line, no, not on his cell) and explained just why she knew he was in Charlotte, NOT Arizona.  The funniest thing was that he continued to insist that he was in Arizona (hello, home phone line?) for several minutes until he finally admitted the obvious:

“I just wasn’t feeling the spark.”

(After a pause)  “And I’m not in Arizona.”

Okay, sure, you can’t expect everyone you fall in love with to fall in love with you back, that’s fair.  But, what I don’t understand is why Zoo went to all that trouble to postpone the inevitable breakup of their relationship.  The meticulousness of his deception – pretending to call from the tarmac while allegedly in the airplane, describing the sandwich he was “eating,” even naming the sandwich shop he bought it from – is troubling, to say the least.  It’s exhausting actually.  Wouldn’t it have been a whole lot easier to say “it’s not working for me, babe,” or simply “I’m not feeling it,” or, my personal favorite, “I’m just not that into you”? 

I’m aghast at Zoo’s complex scheme to defraud and left wondering… how many of my ex-boyfriends were no where near to my home or (worse yet) my heart even though they proclaimed otherwise?  I’ll never know.  My only conclusion is:  too bad we can’t put a tracker on boys.