the
facts. There was no reason to go into detail at this point. And Nick had paid
extra to have the breakup voice recorded and participate in the Valentine’s
Massacre Special, at which I will email immediately to him after Rebecca and I
hang up.
“Wait,
who are you?” There was a little panic in Rebecca’s voice.
I
looked at her picture again, and gave her a sympathetic smile, even though she
couldn’t see it. Not necessarily bad looking, but the four cats that were
surrounding her seemed to be the focus of her attention and not poor Nick, who
was in the background with a scowl on his face.
“I’m
Jenn from Splitsville.com. I’m calling on behalf of Nick. He is breaking up
with you.” I use Jenn as an alias. Olivia Davis was my real name, but I’ve
found that my online breakup service pissed a lot of people off and I don’t
want to find my real self at the end of that line.
Yeah,
yeah. I know. . .it sounds heartless breaking all these peoples’ hearts, but
why would they want to be in a relationship when the other person doesn’t?
Especially
around Valentine’s Day.
I
tapped the handy breakup stages that are tacked up on the bulletin board behind
my monitor with my fingertip. It was a list that hasn’t failed me or
Splitsville.com yet.
Let
me back up a little bit. Splitsville.com started a couple of years ago when a
friend wanted to dump her boyfriend. She was a big chicken, so I did it for
her. Called his ass up, broke the news and Splitsville.com was born.
Here’s
how it works. Clients contact me through an online form where they give their
name, email address, working phone number for the dumpee, reason for dumping, a
few details of their relationship, and a picture of the victim and, the most
important part, payment in full. The reason for the cashola up front was in
case the dump was a joke. In that case, they deserved to lose their money for
being an ass and I deserved to keep it for having to deal with them.
I
offered three “Breakup” packages. The cheapest and most popular is “the general
breakup” for a low price of fifty dollars. “The engagement breakup” is a little
steeper at one hundred dollars. It totally should be more because I couldn’t
imagine being in the fiancé’s shoes on this one. And the worst and most
expensive breakup of all is “the divorce breakup” setting the big jerk or
jerkette back a mere two hundred dollars.
Anyway,
I used a list I call “the process.” It was the steps that each dumpee goes
through before they believe that they’ve been dumped. I only keep the list so I
know how much longer I’m going to be on the phone with the dumpee.
The
Process
1.
Panic (This is the first emotion when they hear the words breakup).
2.
Disbelief (They think I’m playing a joke on them).
3.
Defensive (After they realize I’m not joking, they want to explain their side).
4.
Explanation (They want me to explain the situation all over again).
5.
Denial (This is where they take it out on me and deny my existence).
6.
Anger (Awww…this is where my ear drum gets busted).
7.
Acceptance (Finally!) They have to acknowledge the breakup and I can end the
call.
And
today I didn’t have a lot of time. My best friend Erin was opening up a new
dating service, Color Me Love.
Ironic?
Maybe.
But
I offered my services to help her. You see, I have “a gift.”
Reading
auras was my “gift” as some people call it. I call it—chains. I’m locked into
my life of suffering. I see auras. People’s auras, animal auras, you name
it.
I
didn’t really know what it was as a child. I quickly learned not to talk about
it. My dad left when I was eight and the only memory I have of him was yelling
at my mother.
“Damn
it, Dawn.” He’d say, “You’ve got Olivia believing in that crap.” And he’d grab
me and scream, “Don’t you dare go around telling the town folk about your crazy
colors. They’ll lock you up in juvie.”
I
didn’t know what juvie was, but
facts. There was no reason to go into detail at this point. And Nick had paid
extra to have the breakup voice recorded and participate in the Valentine’s
Massacre Special, at which I will email immediately to him after Rebecca and I
hang up.
“Wait,
who are you?” There was a little panic in Rebecca’s voice.
I
looked at her picture again, and gave her a sympathetic smile, even though she
couldn’t see it. Not necessarily bad looking, but the four cats that were
surrounding her seemed to be the focus of her attention and not poor Nick, who
was in the background with a scowl on his face.
“I’m
Jenn from Splitsville.com. I’m calling on behalf of Nick. He is breaking up
with you.” I use Jenn as an alias. Olivia Davis was my real name, but I’ve
found that my online breakup service pissed a lot of people off and I don’t
want to find my real self at the end of that line.
Yeah,
yeah. I know. . .it sounds heartless breaking all these peoples’ hearts, but
why would they want to be in a relationship when the other person doesn’t?
Especially
around Valentine’s Day.
I
tapped the handy breakup stages that are tacked up on the bulletin board behind
my monitor with my fingertip. It was a list that hasn’t failed me or
Splitsville.com yet.
Let
me back up a little bit. Splitsville.com started a couple of years ago when a
friend wanted to dump her boyfriend. She was a big chicken, so I did it for
her. Called his ass up, broke the news and Splitsville.com was born.
Here’s
how it works. Clients contact me through an online form where they give their
name, email address, working phone number for the dumpee, reason for dumping, a
few details of their relationship, and a picture of the victim and, the most
important part, payment in full. The reason for the cashola up front was in
case the dump was a joke. In that case, they deserved to lose their money for
being an ass and I deserved to keep it for having to deal with them.
I
offered three “Breakup” packages. The cheapest and most popular is “the general
breakup” for a low price of fifty dollars. “The engagement breakup” is a little
steeper at one hundred dollars. It totally should be more because I couldn’t
imagine being in the fiancé’s shoes on this one. And the worst and most
expensive breakup of all is “the divorce breakup” setting the big jerk or
jerkette back a mere two hundred dollars.
Anyway,
I used a list I call “the process.” It was the steps that each dumpee goes
through before they believe that they’ve been dumped. I only keep the list so I
know how much longer I’m going to be on the phone with the dumpee.
The
Process
1.
Panic (This is the first emotion when they hear the words breakup).
2.
Disbelief (They think I’m playing a joke on them).
3.
Defensive (After they realize I’m not joking, they want to explain their side).
4.
Explanation (They want me to explain the situation all over again).
5.
Denial (This is where they take it out on me and deny my existence).
6.
Anger (Awww…this is where my ear drum gets busted).
7.
Acceptance (Finally!) They have to acknowledge the breakup and I can end the
call.
And
today I didn’t have a lot of time. My best friend Erin was opening up a new
dating service, Color Me Love.
Ironic?
Maybe.
But
I offered my services to help her. You see, I have “a gift.”
Reading
auras was my “gift” as some people call it. I call it—chains. I’m locked into
my life of suffering. I see auras. People’s auras, animal auras, you name
it.
I
didn’t really know what it was as a child. I quickly learned not to talk about
it. My dad left when I was eight and the only memory I have of him was yelling
at my mother.
“Damn
it, Dawn.” He’d say, “You’ve got Olivia believing in that crap.” And he’d grab
me and scream, “Don’t you dare go around telling the town folk about your crazy
colors. They’ll lock you up in juvie.”
I
didn’t know what juvie was, but
Similar Books
