How I Became a Scrabble Whore

(Alternate title: Look! I have the words “dominatrix” and “Old Boring Guy” in the same post!)

Yip. That about covers it...

While I fully recognize your vicarious affinity for the soap opera that is my current life, we’re going to interrupt “Days of my (Bat-Shit Crazy) Life” with a jaunt down another path — how I got back on (read: full-on mounted) the proverbial dating horse.

And it was ugly. Like train-wreck carnage ugly. Which means you just can’t help but watch, but you feel really satisfied disgusting after — so please stand by with some Pepto pills. You might need ’em.

So the end of my marriage happened in a span of about 5 months. Literally. In July I discovered that my ex and his ex-ex (a.k.a. Marilyn) had been reconnecting at my children’s school, which also just so happened to be the school her kids attended.

Classy. And quite the kwinky-dink, dontcha think?

And where exactly on campus would they rendezvous? At the flagpole, of all places…tell me that’s not some beautiful imagery! That firm, long, erect, flagpole.

Anyhow, I confronted him about their secret sexy scholastic spot — because I just happened to arrive one day at the aforementioned flagpole, looked to my right, and startled as I recognized Marilyn’s mug. But he denied any wrongdoing, and I believed him — because, after all, he was my husband.

Then came a text on Christmas (from Marilyn, which I intercepted). Then more justifications. Then the brick. Then the end.

It literally felt that quick.

So in between feeling punch drunk, and drunk on devastation, and sometimes plain ol’ super-duper drunky-drunk, I found myself not fully able to process through anything that had happened. You can imagine how ready I was for my first “relationship,” post-ex (read: not really ready at all).

Cue entrance of Old Boring Guy, stage left (or whichever the “boring” side happens to be…)

Yip, I met Old Boring Guy on my first post-breakup big night on the town. My former college roommate convinced me that we should establish a lofty yet meaningful goal for the evening: find 14 men (random number, I know, but it seemed a good idea at the time) willing to give me their phone numbers. Since I was not yet officially divorced (by technicality only — it was in process, just not signed off entirely), that’s as far as I was willing to go.

And 14 I got, though by the end, I’d had about the same number of “Pepe’s Flame of Love” martinis, thus preventing any real connections that night.

Except for Old Boring Guy. He was #12, I believe. But he was insistent upon getting my number, which in the fog induced by 12 martinis, I was more than willing to share.

So he called. And called. And called again. And I ignored. And ignored. And ignored some more. Until the night that my ex stopped by my house and casually mentioned that I would end up owing him child support.

Wait a minute. He left me for his ex-ex. But I owed him child support?!?!

He left. I picked up the phone. Game on.

Sure, there were hotter men that night, whose numbers I also got. But Old Boring Guy was different. After all, he was Old (probably just 45, if I recall, but since I was 35 at the time, the decade between us definitely earned him the dubious distinction in my martini-soaked mind). He was also Boring (though I didn’t realize that at the time, since again, after 12 of Pepe and his Flame of Love, all guys seem fun! And hilarious! And sexy! And anything else that ends in an exclamation point because that’s how I talk while intoxicated!).

But the best part: He didn’t live in Reno. He lived two glorious hours away.

“PERFECT!” I thought. (This time not a drunk exclamation point, but a legitimate one.) Hence, I go a little stir crazy, I take a quick trip over the hill, I go on a good, old-fashioned date.

Little did I know these “dates” would entail Scrabble. Then requests for sex. Or requests for sex. Then Scrabble. (Clearly I was a little off in the “old-fashioned” part of that description.)

Thus began a seedy series of what I later realized were not exactly booty calls — they were Scrabble Calls.

I actually began to get into it. The illicit midnight Scrabble cravings started giving me a buzz — or as I called it at the time, a Hasbro Hard-On.

I even imagined myself a bit of a dominatrix when it came to these encounters. And you know what I learned? I’m damn good at it.

I can do it over and over, all night long. I can do it going up, down, even upside down (I’m particularly adept at that position — which isn’t as uncomfortable as I once imagined). But I particularly love the thrill of the climax … that unparalleled moment of tease, surprise and release when you sneak up on your partner, reach from behind (the bar holding the tiles, that is), firmly take those hard pieces in hand, then with a quick but repetitive motion, explode with joy when you lay down …

7 titillating letters on a Triple-Word Score.

Nice rack. If only I can find an open "L"...

Hmmm … that was good for me. Was it for you? ;)

Yip. Scrabble Calls with Old Boring Guy. That’s how I knew I was back on the horse, ugly though it was.

Now go pop some Pepto. And the next time you’re playing Scrabble, picture me, leather clad, tapping the board with my riding crop and demanding, “Lay down those letters! Work that board! Harder, baby! Faster, baby! Yes!”

Cuz that’s how I roll…

How about you? Any post-break-up seedy stories you’re willing to share? Surely I’m not the only one with a shady Scrabble past?

About Mikalee Byerman

How can a sometimes bitter, definitely jaded, no longer trusting blindsided ex-wife still believe in happy endings? (not that kind of happy endings...sheesh, people...) By channeling her scary internal dialogue through a controversial blog/future book, swearing like a drunken sailor and spending all her spare time focused on helping others people heal. Oh, and wine...lots of good, red wine. Join me as I embrace my next best self (and help you discover yours) with Me 2.0!
This entry was posted in I heart symbols, My (forced) reinvention, My bat-shit crazy divorce and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

33 Responses to How I Became a Scrabble Whore

  1. Jonathan says:

    I’m sat here with the biggest grin – “super-duper drunky-drunk”… lol

    I have stories from mad flings inbetween relationships, but nothing about breakups… unless “the morning after the night before” stories count? lol

    Love your blog!

    • Hey there — thank you for stopping by and commenting!

      I’d say all stories count — sounds like you may have some good ones of your own. Mad flings between relationships can be great fodder for incredibly crazy stories…I’ll have to stop by your blog to see if you have some in your archives. ;)

      Hope to see you around these parts again!

  2. Mary says:

    You are one talented woman!! Love your writing, love your brain. Awesome!

    • Well, Mary, I understand we are both journalism majors. Must be a j-school thing!

      I’m so glad you’re enjoying. Please keep coming by and commenting — I love hearing from readers. :)

  3. Posky says:

    I love the story it made me happy, sad, tingly, grossed out and aroused. That’s how you can tell this was a great story. I have plenty of my own but I’ll have to share them on my blog since I can get a bit wordy.

    • Posky says:

      Also I enjoy scrabble.

      Let’s have a game sometime.

      • Thank you kindly for the comment(s)! I visited your blog as well, and I love your observations. I’ve also felt the compulsion to step on the necks of certain illiterate people (I’m sorry, but if you can’t master the your/you’re or their/there/they’re construction by about the age of 12, you deserve a heel to the neck).

        I look forward to the opportunity to make you feel happy/sad/tingly/grossed out/aroused again! ;)

  4. Hey Mikalee, I love your divorce and post-divorce stories! Remember I told you I had one coming up? Well I posted it today so be sure to check it out. I’m dedicating it to you! (By the way, I went to Journalism school too!)

  5. Herb says:

    This is good therapy, let it all hang out.

  6. Karena K. Dunn says:

    I totally forgot about “old boring guy”! The stories at the time were just as hilarious as they are now as you recount them!

    • Thank you, Karena! I’m so glad my friends can take part in the blog, because you all provide validation that this shit, indeed, happened. Otherwise it just sounds totally made-up! ;)

      Love you!

  7. TEVG says:

    Fate has determined I shall always lose at Scrabble.

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  9. comdude says:

    This is hilarious! You’re so recovered. Now I have to decide if I should stop telling people I’m a boring guy.

  10. Ohhh, I miss that word puzzle! used to play it in primary school.

  11. Cat says:

    OKay: post-married stories. About 2 years after, I started dating and instantly sleeping with, one of X’s best friends from high school. Let’s see, R E V E N G E, and did I get a triple word score for that? Let’s hope so. I kept that drama going for a full 6 months, then set my sights on the local rich business owner who flirted and drooled over me every chance he got. He used to buy me anything I put my finger on, and would drive me to the meeting place to pick up my kids from X in his expensive vehicle. Then I went the opposite direction and dated a biker!! Whoo hoooo!! F U N and E X C I T I N G, but he was a little too psycho for me to handle, so I decided to stay single for a year to discover who the hell I am, and it turned into 2 years. One night I went out to karaoke for some fun and met a man who was one of my girlfriend’s brother-in-law. He offered to teach me golf, something I discovered during the 2 single years that I wanted to take up. After about 6 weeks of golfing he asked me out and we’ve been together ever since, almost 3 years. The best part is he owns his own shit! Vehicle, house and cell phone!

    • How’s this for a word for you: A W E S O M E! And that one earns you an extra 50 points for using all your tiles…

      I’m so happy for you in your new (well, relatively) relationship. You give me hope! :)

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  13. Unfortunately, whether you pay child support is determined on how much you see your kids. It sucks that you have to pay money, when you don’t get to see your kids!

    • Actually, in my state (Nevada), the child support equation simply attempts to balance the earnings in both homes. So since I made more than he did at the time, I was expected to bring his home up to the level of mine — to give the kids an equivalent experience.

      And we do share 50-50 joint physical custody, meaning the kids are with me every other week. But it’s still not enough! :(

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  16. Scott says:

    You are the female version of Shephard and Sedaris. Thank you for making me smile today.

  17. Pingback: Pregnant?!?! « Me 2.0

  18. oscarvalles says:

    Your type of blog is not the typical kind I read, but gosh darn you are entertaining. I’ve only read the Brick(ginning) and this post which simply caught my attention because of my interest in scrabble. But I’m sure I’ll come back and read more later.

    I don’t know how life is going for you right now, but I sure hope you are thinking that divorcing Mr. Dumb-ass was the best thing that’s happened. I think that is the point in life we all hope to reach after major disappointments.

    Anyway, I appreciate all the elements in your writing, including the images you chose. Nice work.

    • Wow — thank you for such a great comment! I do hope you’ve had a chance to read a bit more — it’s quite the soap opera I have going on…

      And yes, my divorce was the pivotal moment of my life thus far. It has changed me in ways I’ve never imagined — almost all for the better. I hate to admit it, but I do have to be somewhat grateful, I guess…though the way the story unfolded was not appreciated at all…

      Thanks for reading — I hope to see you around here again!

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