A few years ago, my friend and I were walking past a Winchell’s Donuts. An ugly, irate woman was screaming at her ugly, irate boyfriend about something. He was walking away from her, towards his old beat-up car, and the last words she could screech after so many F words were:

“Toodle-loo, boodle-loo!”

She said it with such resolution, and clarity. It was as if in that moment, she had found the words to let the guy know that their relationship was officially over.

Last night, I went to dinner with another friend to a hole in the wall Mexican joint. We were sent to a strange corner, where across from us, two very ugly women were loudly describing their relationship problems. The uglier of the two- chubby, sun-kissed, bleach-blonde, with drastic eye makeup- was on the phone with her boyfriend, appalled and desperate that he was dumping her. The two loudly went on to say how much she “fucking loved him” and that he was “the fuckin’ love of my life.” There were tears, to be sure. The less ugly of the two- no chin, red hair, jean jacket matched with denim pants- would tell her to “shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up, he was nothing,” and just as quickly start talking about her own love problems.

At one point, Blonde Ugly pointed out that He didn’t even notice her haircut.

There I was, trying my best not to listen to this stupid conversation, and finding that it was the most insightful I have come across in months.

If you take out all of the F words, and cheap perfume, and strawberry-flavored alcohol, their problems are the same as mine.

All day, we talk at our friends about relationships we cannot seem to get our heads wrapped around. Is it the complexity of human interaction that can befuddle even the more savvy folks, or are we all self-involved gluttons?

At any rate. It may have been cute to question relationships, but there comes a time when you just have to say “toodle-loo, boodle-loo.”