Can you spot the Anti-Christ in the above photo? Hint: it isn't the one with the nice threads and cool hair. It's the other one. Yeah, turns out there is an Anti-Christ and his name is SIMON REID. We were "together" (I use the term loosely) nearly two months to the day: from June 13, 2008 to August 10, 2008. This man declared his undying love for me on our second date. On our third date he said "you won't be my girlfriend for long, you know. I'm the marrying kind." After that he told me to start looking for a wedding gown suitable for a ceremony on the beach. I swallowed ALL of this because a.) I am a total moron and b.) SIMON REID is (sigh), well...he's British. I know. Blame the impish lads I drooled over at age 8 on The Adventures of Black Beauty and (later) Duran Duran and their ilk. I hold them responsible for corrupting my impressionable little psyche. But I digress.

The demise of our relationship happened thusly: SIMON REID disappeared on August 7. I was frantic for three days, wondering what the fuck was going on. Then on the afternoon of August 10 I got a call from (are you ready for this? Cause it's good) his WIFE. Yup. SIMON REID is not only an evil lying bastard, he is a MARRIED evil lying bastard. So basically the only thing he told me that turned out to be true is that he is indeed the marrying kind.

According to his wife, I ain't the first. During our phone call of August 10, she informed me (I was mostly too shocked to speak) that I am but one in a long parade of girlfriends he has had since they married seven years ago.

Among the many lies that SIMON REID told me, these are the biggest ones: he was buying a cottage outside Brighton for us to stay in when we visited his family in England, the house his construction company is fixing up in St. Paul was to be ours when it was finished, he was going to buy me a Mini-Cooper for a wedding present, and a lie that took the form of a suggestive query on the occasion of our third date: "One question for you--gold or platinum?"

There are a few good things that came out of this joke of a relationship. One, he took me to Victoria's Secret and bought me $500 worth of lingerie (see receipt below).


So while I feel like complete mug, at least I am wearing fantastic underwear. He also bought me a new TV, a bunch of meals, drinks, coffees, the dress I am wearing in the photo at the beginning of this post, and a little playhouse for my cats. Another positive thing SIMON REID did was pay my July rent. He also told me he would pay my August and September rent (we were going to move in together in October. Isn't that funny? I bet his wife would laugh really hard if she heard that one), but he took off before giving it to me. So basically he owes me two months rent. We had a verbal agreement--and I could probably get any lawyer off a billboard in the 'hood to concur.

The final positive SIMON REID did for me was to give me a chance to warn the citizens of the Twin Cities and--hell, the entire world--to watch out for this douche. If you see him, give him a good punch in the crotch for me, and, for the love of all things holy, DO NOT believe anything that comes out of his mouth. If he tells you 2 + 2 = 4, check his facts.

By the way, don't give me any of that sexist "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" nonsense. This has nothing to do with being a woman. I am a Leo, and Leos are all about loyalty. We are sort of like the Mob Bosses of the zodiac. Be good to us and we'll take a bullet for you. Screw us over and it's your ass. I am also a writer, and there's a great quote I once read (I have no idea who said it) that goes something like "When a writer is born into a family, that family is doomed." The same goes double for a writer's exes.

I have not heard from SIMON REID since he disappeared on August 7, and I am confident that I never will again. The man is a coward, plain and simple. He also knows I am now aware of his marital status and what a sad, sad liar he is and is too afraid to show his face. He has not called, texted, emailed, anything.

Fine, whatever. There is nothing I can do to change what he did to me or how I am feeling about it right now. I just have to feel this way until I don't feel this way anymore (as Teri Garr said in Tootsie).

I can also take comfort in these words of wisdom from the esteemed poet Bono: Instant karma's gonna get him, if I don't get him first.

I know this much is true.

Introducing my new book:

Thanks, That Was Fun

A kinda sorta semi-autobiographical novel

Rather funny, a little sad, definitely sordid
Available now on Kindle

Not a Kindle user? Buy it here.