There are a few absolute life-changing moments for a woman: the birth of her children, her wedding day, and (most importantly) the moment she realizes she’s over her ex-boyfriend. Hallelujah! It’s that beautiful second when reality sinks in and you come to the realization that he was the one who was an absolute mess; that you are way better off without him; that it was never you, it was him all along. And it also doesn’t hurt that you are dating someone way better who doesn’t send you pictures of his poop (Big City Siren, 2.2.12).
Manhattan, though, is a difficult borough in which to deal with a break-up because at any moment you could walk out of your front door and run right smack into the ex. People think Manhattan is HUGE, but it’s not. It’s only 23 square miles, and there are 1.5 million people squashed into it. Manhattanites live above bars, restaurants, doctors’ offices—it’s almost impossible not to run into people you know. And I happen live in one of the most populated neighborhoods (Hell’s Kitchen), so my chances of running into an ex, whether I like it or not, are very, very high. I have to be on guard.
Think about it. If you live in a suburban area, it’s much more difficult to run into an ex, unless you seek them out. In suburbia, you drive your car from place to place, and everything is spread out. If you are going to randomly walk by an ex-boyfriend’s place, you would have to drive to their neighborhood, leave your car down the street, and then walk past their house. That would make you a stalker.
They other day I was in my deli, and I looked out the window and saw my stupid ex-boyfriend walking down the street. I had to dodge him in my own deli! This is not how I want to live. I think there should be break-up zoning laws. Exes should split up bars and restaurants fairly, depending on location, and how bad each party would miss it. For example, if he lives on the Upper West Side, he can have 59th—110th streets. I would gladly give up Central Park to avoid an ex. I would like to keep 14th—59th. He can have the West Village, I’ll take the East.
With that said, here’s a little note (feel free to adapt it for your own circumstances):
Dear Ex-Boyfriend,
It is NOT okay to loiter around in my neighborhood. I pay rent here, and you need to GET OFF MY TURF!
Sincerely,
Big City Siren
Lindsey Gentile is an actor, writer, comedienne, and all-around gal-about-town. Every Thursday, she reports from the front lines of single life in NYC. Check out her website HERE. Need more Big City Siren? No problem.
