(Credit: Alie Ward )
Fast-forward a few months (or days) to the soul-wrenching realization that your respective career quests, or online transgressions, or really annoying habits, have gotten in the way of your love. You now have a tragically doomed romance on your hands. Shed some tears of regret and instruct your friends to begin loathing your ex. Hey, it’s part of the process.
Here at Metromix, we’re no strangers to embarrassing, soul-withering romantic mishaps. So we’ve compiled some tips on facing the pain, getting through it and moving on to another skanky bedfellow/soul mate:
Step 1: Eat something
Nothing says culinary entitlement more than heartbreak. And nothing distracts more from an aching heart than a mild case of diabetes. We suggest heading over to Milk on Beverly Blvd. to take advantage of its cellulite-inducing ice cream parlor, where you can bury your broken dreams in a sundae. Grab an extra napkin and smear the chocolate sauce off your face, though, because Milk attracts a younger, foxier crowd, and you never know when your next potential mate could walk through the door for a sorbet.
Step 2: Shoot something
Ripping up snapshots is cathartic, but shooting stuff is better. So when you find out that your ex is already involved with your old roommate, blow off some steam and fire off some rounds at the Oak Tree Gun Club, located in the dusty hills outside L.A. Take a few pictures too, so when you’re feeling weak and pathetic, you can remind yourself that—for one fleeting moment—you appeared to be a badass.
Step 3: Panic about feeling unattractive
After your sugar coma dissipates and the lucid reality of solitude sets in, you might realize you need to do some sit-ups if you’re ever going to get laid again. We hate sit-ups as much as you do, so we recommend heading to some freaky hula-hooping class in a quest for a less flabby belly. We give it two sweaty thumbs up.
Step 4: Identity crisis
Now it’s time to re-evaluate your entire identity. Though sitting in a corner Googling yourself sounds comforting, we instead urge you to hit the Upright Citizens Brigade for its Wednesday night MySpace show. There, L.A.’s best comedians will yoink you from the audience, pull up your Myspace profile on a laptop, and project it onto a screen in front a packed theater. They’ll poke around at pictures of your ex, read your drunken blog posts on the futility of love, and ask if you really finished that James Joyce novel you claim to hold dear. Then they’ll dismiss you back to your seat and come up with improv sketches
Step 5: Pursue cheap nudity
If you’re not having much luck in the rebound department, or you’re ready for looky-looky but not touchy-touchy, we recommend you hoot and whoop at strangers peeling off their clothes for money.
Step 6: Beg your old friends back
It’s a rock-solid fact that people in relationships ditch their friends. Now that you’re all alone again, grasp at your remaining comrades by coaxing them out for Rock ’n’ Roll Karaoke at Bigfoot Lodge or lure them Down the Rabbit Hole with the blissful mix of Connect Four, mint juleps and weird, cheap art. You’ll form new drunken bonds that will keep you feeling loved and appreciated until your next mate appears on the scene and you stop answering friends’ text messages again. And if you truly have no pals left—though we doubt this one, sport—you can always ask a comic for advice.
Step 7: Look for hotties
At this stage, we think you’re ready to look for hotties. We’ve done our own journalistic, um, research, and found that the highest concentration of hot hipsters per capita appear to be hiding at the newly reborn and enthusiastically punctuated dance night Pash!, helmed by DJ Myles Hendrik, the fashionable frontman for local indie band Bloodcat Love, and other local scene gods. Toss in El Cobrasnake prowling about to capture your new profile pic, and you’ve got all the makings of a comeback, tiger.
Whatever you do, please know that sitting around talking to a cat about your pain is not the answer. Get out there, champ.
Alie Ward is Events editor at Metromix Los Angeles.
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