About a week ago my ex-boyfriend --yes, once upon a time I was straight -- called me in a panic as he was desperately looking for a woman.  I know what you're thinking but NO, this was not a bootie call. So please, don't be too fast to raise an eyebrow. I have not switched teams yet.  But I did join a new team - as in a soccer team. That's right my ex - I will fictitiously call him Alan - was looking for a female soccer player to join his co-ed team for his Friday night game. Naturally, he thought of me because, in all modesty, I am a soccer player extraordinaire - that and mainly because none of his other lady friends were available to play.

So when Friday night came, armed with my very rusted cleats and super-used shin guards I joined Alan and the rest of the team on some soccer field in Glendale, CA. I was very much eager to get the game going, not because I hadn't played in years and the avid soccer fan in me couldn't hold the excitement, but because it was freezing cold and way past m bedtime.  To make a long story short I'll the skip the part of our team embarrassingly getting killed on the field - with a 0-4 loss.  Evidently it was not my fault I was playing with a bunch of incompetents who made me lose the game.

Jump cut to Saturday morning... When I woke up at the crack of dawn I decided to leave a Thank You note on Alan's Facebook page to let him know that despite the humiliation of the defeat, I was indeed grateful for the opportunity to play my favorite sport in the entire world! After all, I have good manners!

Strangely though, by the time I came back from my usual morning workout, to my greatest surprise the note had been deleted from his wall. I then noticed a missed call on my iPhone - from Alan of course!  Intrigued and very curious I hurried to retrieve the voicemail.  

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I then heard a desperate Alan begging: "Mona PLEASEEEEEE call me back ASAP, it's urgent."  Seriously, the tone of his voice sounded like someone had just died! I promptly dialed his digits puzzled as to what could be so "urgent" to put him in such state of catastrophic panic.

So here's the story in a nutshell: Alan had been dating Carmen for the past year and a half and was madly in love with her. Somehow Carmen couldn't make her mind up on whether to be with him or not, and as a result had condemned their relationship to be on the dreadful "pause" phase - also known as "we're on a break," sorry bullshit excuse. When these two love- birds were living la vida loca of the honeymoon phase they decided to join a co-ed soccer team to share something together.  Evidently now that they were on "a break," Carmen was no longer participating in the couple's community service activities, thus leaving Alan with the burden of having to fill her soccer shoes to prevent the team from being disqualified for not meeting the boy-girl ratio requirement.  Long story even shorter, Alan borrowed Carmen's team card to allow me to be her substitute for that Friday night game. But here's the twist.

When Alan proceeded to return the card to Carmen after the game he totally omitted to tell her that he brought his ex girlfriend - that would be me - to play. So, when Carmen logged on to his Facebook page and saw my note, she completely lost it and called him to tell him that the "we're on a break" status had now officially transformed into "we're broken up."

Not being one to give up so easily - and mainly pathetically desperate -- Alan convinced himself he could save his tragic fate by having me call Carmen to explain the situation and let her know that there's nothing going on between us to.

Frankly I found his predicament rather absurd - as in Carmen is a bit cuckoo in the head -- but at the same time, I was immensely amused by the fact that I was the cause of a jealousy fit! So what if I'm viciously evil at times! In all honesty though, it did pain me to see my ex in such a state of anxiety and aggravation. Naturally, I agreed to save his ass and decided to phone Carmen.

"Hi Carmen, this is Mona from Facebook," was my brilliant introduction. I went on to clarify the misunderstanding and explained to her how Alan was deeply affected by her decision to break the couple up because of an innocent mistake.
My entire retarded mea culpa tirade lasted less than five minutes while Carmen remained dead silent all along. Sensing she was not buying my blah blah blah, I settled the score: "Oh and by the way you have nothing to worry about ... I'm gay!"  

That surely qualifies as GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAL!

Catch up on Singled Out from Mona here!

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