The creepiest wedding gift ever?

Meet Andrew Cohen. On the face of it, he seems like a fairly normal chap.

Then there's this. It seems that an ex of his turned down his proposal, so as a "gift" to her, he posts this public column. It becomes abundantly clear why she might have left him rather quickly.

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I want to thank her for being so delightful with my son, who talks about her still, and to my parents, who couldn't believe their son's good fortune to have landed such a sweetheart. Until almost literally his dying day, my dad would ask me about her. Near the end, almost exactly two years ago, I did not have the heart to tell him that we had broken up. It gives me peace figuring that he died thinking she'd be in my life when he was gone.

Good thing his dad's too dead to know, eh?

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Before I met her, as a single father, I never would have considered having another child. Although it took more time than it should have, I came to realize through her love and devotion that there would be nothing more I would rather do in the world than have a child with her.

She's so wonderful he wanted to impregnate her. That's the true path to happiness, after all.

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I want to thank her for being such an inspiration. She did not give in or sell out or become one of those poor women of a certain age in New York who have put their careers ahead of their lives. When we met, she was living in New York but was not of New York; transplanted from the West Coast, she had not allowed herself to be seduced entirely by the City's charms. She took from Manhattan, like so many other beautiful women do, but she never gave to it her heart and soul.

How lovely! The gift of resenting other women.

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It wasn't too long after we met that I began imagining what our wedding day would be like. My second, her first, I nonetheless pictured her not taking it too seriously, laughing off the little crises that always pop up. I pictured her stunning in her dress and with that smile that would melt me. I pictured her having a vodka and soda to ease her nerves. I pictured us laughing a lot. I pictured myself at the end of the aisle.

What a charming imaginary wedding. I bet her real one isn't anywhere near that good.

I propose a little drinking game for this "gift". Drink every time you spot a backhanded compliment. Drink every time you spot a guilt trip. Drink every time you feel creeped out.

I would, but my tequila supply is running dangerously low.

Somewhere, this woman is smirking and grateful she got rid of him.

Isn't he a little old for this? I clicked on the picture expecting some angry young guy in his 20s, and I end up looking at a man who's obviously well into his 60s, if not 70s. That's a HELL of a long time to carry a grudge.

Rabid Badger wrote:

Isn't he a little old for this? I clicked on the picture expecting some angry young guy in his 20s, and I end up looking at a man who's obviously well into his 60s, if not 70s. That's a HELL of a long time to carry a grudge.

I don't think he's that old (maybe you were looking at the picture of Charlie Rangel?), but it's still a creepy column.

I think he's forty-something. And that says a lot; if I recall correctly, when they met she was 29, and he was 40.

As the commenters on Ace of Spades said, Man Card: Revoked.

Not sure if it's been noticed yet, but one of the other writers on the site posted this column in response to Mr. Cohen's "article".

LOL BURN

Yorokobi wrote:

Not sure if it's been noticed yet, but one of the other writers on the site posted this column in response to Mr. Cohen's "article".

This is bloody brilliant. There's some rather interesting comments though:

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Why was this column written? It seems like you just seized an opportunity to dig at the mannerisms of men. Interesting how one errant comment about women "who have put their careers ahead of their lives" jarred you so badly that you dedicated a full paragraph in response. Bitter much?

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Well, this column sounds bitter. His sounded introspective, heartfelt & sincere but woefully immature & selfish, like most men. A guy wrote it, self explanintory. Don't you have your own material? Life? Wedding? (that someone probably didn't publicly self psychologise himself for). Gosh, I really miss Dear Abby . No, he should not have written that letter. For many reasons. However, the only thing more rude than a social mistep is someone commenting on it. Viciously. For their own self promotion*note the picture @ the top of the article. Yes you should be ashamed for throwing salt needlessly on some poor sap's self inflicted wounds.

Apparently, if you find this stuff creepy, you must be a bitter old harpy with shrivelled ovaries. You dreadful, dreadful bitch.