My little sister Andie is one of my best friends. She’s one of the truly good people in the world.

For example, on Saturday, she spent her entire morning working with a team that is, on their own dime and with their own time, meeting with critically sick or disabled children to help them write and publish their own children’s books.

That’s the kind of person she is.

What was I doing Saturday morning? Oh, yeah. Plopped like a turd, binge watching a show. That’s probably what most of us were doing.

Anyway, I won’t bore you to tears with tons of details, but after she spent her morning doing amazing things for others, she had a first date with a good-enough looking fella. She was excited for it. She got dolled-up to the nines. He seemed like a nice guy.

Except, an hour before the date, he asked if she happened to be into basketball, hinting that he might like to watch the NBA finals. She wasn’t. He was fine with that. He still wanted to go out.

But then…

He stood her up.

He left her wandering around a park waiting for him to show.

He never messaged to say he couldn’t make it.

Then he blocked her number so that her texts wouldn’t go through.

He blocked her from the dating site.

And he vanished.

Like the total fucking asshat that he must certainly be, he vanished.


My sister came home (she lives with us) and began quietly snuggling our two Great Danes. I asked her how it went. She tried to keep a smile and make a joke of it. “It would have been amazing… If he would have shown up.”

And that’s when I saw it. The final straw in a long list of douchey moves from guys. And she kinda sorta maybe definitely started crying, despite her best efforts to keep those tears at bay.


When the hell did the people in this world stop having even the most basic amounts of human decency?

This dude changed his mind. Fine. That happens.

But then the douchestick simply decided he could avoid all consequences whatsoever by blocking all channels that would make him have to face the music.

Well, shit…

Here’s his number.


Now, I won’t tell you what to do with that.

I won’t tell you all to immediately dump a bazillion texts onto his phone to teach him that you can’t block numbers before you know them.

I won’t tell you all to send him a barrage of messages and images that’ll make him hopefully maybe think twice about being so careless with someone else.

I won’t ask you all to laugh with me and do everything you can with me to make sure he hates looking at his phone as much as he makes other people sad by looking at theirs.

I won’t say how funny I think it would be if his phone was filled for days with images of things he can never unsee. Things like puddles of dog puke or stained bed sheets.

I won’t mention how happy it would make me to know these messages happened at all hours of the day and night.

I won’t tell you I think it’d be an epic ending if he got so many messages that he has no choice but to get a new number to escape them.

I won’t confess how much I hope that as a whole, after receiving what I may or may not hope is hundreds of messages, this asshole gets a real lesson that consequences don’t just disappear because he finds a way to disappear.

I definitely won’t tell you how happy it would make me as a big brother to get a little harmless revenge, which is all I can really do in this day and age since going and popping him in the nose isn’t really an option.

Nope. I won’t tell you any of that. I’ll just give you his number. What you do with it is up to you.


Does that make me a douche?

Yeah. Definitely. But, you know how it goes…

And maybe, just maybe, he won’t do this to someone else in the future. I guess that will depend on our ability to (ahem) get through to him effectively.

Dan Pearce, Big Brother of a Woman Wronged

PS. I also would never, ever, EVER tell you all that I’d love to see screenshots of whatever it is I never said you should send this guy.