Some moan and wail along with sentimental karaoke weepies. Some commiserate with friends over rocky road and rom-coms. From supporting shoulders to comfort food, we all find our individual ways to cope with the devastating loss. Then there are the regular dashers who start flitting here and there and everywhere.
Such as Dashing Dan.
No more moping at home! Time for a new socialite me!
Determined not to fall into a melancholic decline after his recent breakup, Dan drew up a detailed mission statement to expand his social circle beyond the familiar faces of the ton. And so he did just that, transforming from unsociable bluestocking to the latest socialite in town. Hell, I hear his Facebook friends jumped exponentially after one week. Just a month after, he's already out gallivanting, throwing extravagant soirees and painting the town red with several choice spirits.
Calvin : My dear, have you heard the latest on-dits about our dear compatriot, Dashing Dan?
Paul : Surely that graceless scamp didn't fall asleep at the wheel again!
Calvin : Far from it! A little bird has whispered to me that he's been out celebrating his recent bachelorhood in all the wrong places!
Paul : The meat market? My word! And I thought our puritanical friend eschewed such decadent pursuits! Has the world actually spun off its axis?
And what's this I hear about Dan's ear getting licked after trolling at a notorious gay bar?
Obviously this eligible bachelor isn't only out looking for platonic relationships :)
This from a lazy fella who could barely keep his drooping head off the dinner table just a few months back. And that's with an entire jazz band - and crooning chanteuse - playing barely a few feet away. Not to mention a dozen rowdy boys in bowties.
An unsettling change to be sure - is something dosing him with fortified ginseng? - but I kinda like the new Dan. All I say is bravo. Wonder what other surprises he has up his sleeve! Chances are I'll find out soon that he has jetted off with his circuit party queens to decadent Ibiza for the weekend. Or possibly found in his cups in a seedy joint after a neverending pubcrawl.