TOOLBAG TUESDAY

This is one for a movie script.

A douchier version of Eat, Pray, Love, perhaps?

I imagine someone like Debra Messing playing the female character. And, while I’ve never met this guy before, I picture him a good-looking asshole, like that guy from Legally Blonde who says “Pooh Bear” a lot.

Um, anyway.

So, my friend Kelly (Debra) and her boyfriend of a few years, Scott, were seemingly blissfully in love to the point that he was house-hunting and brought her along to check out the prospects.

“Could you see yourself living here?” he asked her, dreamily, each time they walked though an open house.

Yes! A love nest! Kelly couldn’t have been happier.

He bought a house in New Orleans and decided that he wanted to be in more debt go to dental school.

A dentist-homeowner!

Swoon!

Kelly was beyond supportive of his new life plan and even WROTE HIS PERSONAL STATEMENT required in the dental school application.

It would have been a cute joke, you know, I GOT YOU INTO DENTAL SCHOOL, HAHA, but all jokes ceased immediately once he was accepted.

“I don’t think I can be in a relationship while I’m in dental school,” he said one day, as Kelly was packing her things to move into his love nest.

“WHAT!!?”

She asked him why he thought dental school required him to be single but he had no answer. He said he was sorry but it was no good. BLINDSIDED!

WORSE THAN A TOOTH EXCRACTION.

Why did he ask if she wanted to move in with him??? Why do guys go from 100 to 0 in two days?

AND SHE GOT HIM INTO DENTAL SCHOOL!!!

Kelly hung up and resumed her life, traumatized.

(This is when she should have gone to Africa and ridden elephants or whatever.)

Two months later, still blue about her abrupt life change, Kelly was at a work luncheon downtown at a fancy hotel. She’s pretty tough so she was still functioning.

That is until she saw Scott, IN THE HOTEL LOBBY, CHECKING IN A YOUNG BLONDE GIRL. (Blake Lively?)

Scott saw Kelly and he walked over to her, leaving the “barely legal cheerleader,” as Kelly describes, at the front desk.

“Who’s that?” Kelly asked, not making eye contact.

Scott said she was a friend from out of town and he was showing her around for the weekend.

It was nauseating.

Through the power of work and good girlfriends, Kelly moved on with her life, even going out on a date with someone even though it was painful to be with someone who wasn’t Scott.

She tried hard not to cry into her pasta alfredo.

Two months after their hotel encounter (and four months after breaking up with her), Scott called.

“Hey, so remember that trip you took to see the Running of the Bulls in San Fermin?” he asked.

Kelly shook her head trying to make sense of the conversation.

“Yea...” she said, remembering when she traveled to Spain. She and Scott had talked at length about it, and they had planned to go together.

“Well, it always sounded pretty cool. I was just wondering when the dates were and more details or whatever,” Scott said.

Kelly said that it was each year from July 6 to July 14 – which was about a month away – and that it was fun and super cultural and all that.

She told him about some hotels and restaurants that she remembered enjoying. He thanked her and hung up.

If she could go back in time she would have told him to go to Calcutta.

Because, as she found out two days later, SCOTT WAS ENGAGED. TO THE BARELY LEGAL CHEERLEADER.

Guess their honeymoon location. No, really. Guess.

(This is where we see Debra Messing at the bar downing shots of tequila.)

“WHAT THE F*CK???” She called him and screamed. “YOU’RE ENGAGED??? AFTER TWO MONTHS? AND YOU WERE CALLING ME FOR HONEYMOON ADVICE??? YOU'RE SICK! SICK!!!!!!!”

He told her that him being engaged was GOOD NEWS and that he wanted to share it with her.

After she hung up on him, he repeatedly called her leaving voicemails about how this was a good thing, really, and pleeeeease can you be happy for me? (Pooh bear.)

To Kelly’s horror, she received an INVITATION TO SCOTT’S WEDDING the next week. The wedding was for late June.

She had to stare at his name in an elevated velvety font with church bells.

Vomit twice.

To make it worse, she saw that she wasn’t even given the option of a plus one.

WITHOUT A PLUS ONE! Really???

She was supposed to go to his wedding ALONE???

Jesus, the man was a sadist.

She shredded the invitation the next day at work and subsequently moved to a new apartment to start her life over.

An apartment where she wouldn’t get, uh, a Christmas card from the happy couple for some sick reason.

No, the only thing she’d tolerate would be news that they were somehow trampled in San Fermin.

Or arrested.

...And in a cell with someone who could be played by Anthony Hopkins...

-Jenny