Congratulations on Saying the Wrong Thing!

“Have you considered abortion?”

You won’t feel a whit of surprise when she bursts into tears following your outburst. It was an incredibly crass thing to say, after all. Right up there with “is it mine?” or “holy shit, how far is the state line from here?” What will surprise you is that she stays and continues to speak with you. It’ll be a good kind of surprise, at least at first.

“How can that be the first question you ask?” she’ll say, eyes red rimmed and still dripping. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” you’ll say. You’ll stand up and move to her side, dropping to your knees to look up into her face. “So sorry. Is it because of religion?”

She won’t answer this time. She’ll just go back to wordlessly sobbing.

“Is it a health thing? Because there’s very little risk involved. And Planned Parenthood can help with the costs. That’s why they’re there.” She’ll just sob louder as you list off more reasons. She must need more convincing, you’ll think, so you’ll raise your voice, practically shouting. “You know my last girlfriend Sherry had a hard time with this too. Maybe we should call her and she can help you through the whole thing.”

At this point Margaret will use some of that freakish strength with which we all know pregnant chicks are imbued and crack a chair over your head.

When you come to you’ll be at a bus station with a duffel bag of your clothes, neatly folded, and two hundred dollars.

This is the fourth time this has happened to you, but you never really get used to your relationships ending this way. Ah well. Can’t win ‘em all. Time to head off to the next Tennessee town where you can impregnate another college dropout, then totally fuck up the most important conversation of her life by being a total fuckwit. It is what you do best, after all.

Congratulations on Saying the Wrong Thing!