Here the Popster Monster and the Payday Fajitas musical version of this called UNSCREW.
Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
Vicki’s Passive-Aggressive Breakup Strategy
My ex-girlfriend Vicki once tried to break up with me without actually breaking up with me, which is the kind of passive-aggressive long game that requires commitment I honestly admired. Her strategy was simple: drag me to activities so insufferable I’d do the breaking up myself, thus saving her the awkwardness of actually having to say the words.
She took me to an art gallery opening where people stood around pretending to understand why someone had stapled tampons to a canvas. She dragged me to a vegan restaurant where the waiter explained that nutritional yeast was “nature’s parmesan” with the evangelical fervor of someone who’d clearly never tasted parmesan. She even got us tickets to a mime performance, which should be classified as a war crime.
But her master stroke was the drum circle.
It was held in the basement of a Unitarian church that smelled like patchouli and disappointment. About twenty people sat cross-legged on yoga mats in a circle, waiting to achieve enlightenment through the power of bongos and group chanting. Vicki kept glancing at me, waiting for me to bolt.
I was absolutely delighted.
The Woman Who Unscrewed Her Feet
See, right as we sat down, another couple arrived and settled next to us. Normal enough: yoga pants, tie-dye, the whole uniform. Except when the woman removed her shoes, she kept going. She unscrewed her feet. Not metaphorically. Not in some spiritual way. She literally detached her prosthetic feet with the casual efficiency of someone removing reading glasses.
I was mesmerized.
Her partner (a guy with a ponytail and the kind of serene smile that suggested either inner peace or powerful edibles) didn’t notice my staring. When the drumming got intense and people started getting up to sway and dance, he leapt to his feet with the grace of a man who’d done a lot of hot yoga. He started doing this interpretive dance thing, all flowing arms and hip swaying.
His partner stayed seated, feet unscrewed, watching him with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
At first I thought it was mean of him. Like, dude, you didn’t give her time to reattach her feet. But then it occurred to me: maybe she didn’t want to dance. Maybe the feet were a tactical excuse, a built-in (or built-off) escape hatch from having to do the hippie shuffle in front of strangers.
That’s when it hit me: we all need emergency detachable body parts.
Why I Need Detachable Arms for Better Sleep
You see, I’m a side sleeper, and every single night I face the same existential crisis: what the hell do I do with my arms? Under the pillow? Feels weird. Over the pillow? Falls asleep. Draped over my wife? I get punched. There is no good option. My arms are just these inconvenient meat tubes attached to my torso, serving no purpose after 10 PM and actively preventing me from achieving optimal sleep geometry.
If I could have detachable arms, life would be perfect.
Picture it: I’d sit on the edge of the bed, spin off my right arm (maybe a righty-loosey situation), then lean over and use my teeth to grip my left arm and unscrew it. Hang them both on a little hook on my nightstand, like a spare set of keys. Then I’d sleep like a baby. A weird, armless baby, but a well-rested one.
In the morning, I’d just…
Wait.
In the morning I’d just… what? Stare at my detachable arms hanging on the wall? Develop telekinesis? Train my toes to be opposable?
Okay, I didn’t think that part through.
The Logistical Problems with Removable Limbs
I’d need someone to spin my arms back on every morning. My wife would love that. “Honey, can you screw my arms back on? No, tighter. Lefty-tighty. I don’t want my arm falling off at work again.”
Although… what if I just committed to the vest life? A nice selection of casual vests. Professional vests. Maybe a formal vest for weddings. People would say, “Oh, that’s just Brian. He doesn’t have arms. Really pulls off a vest, though.”
I pitched this theory to Vicki on the drive home from the drum circle. I explained the whole thing: the detachable arms, the sleep logistics, the vest collection, everything.
She broke up with me two days later.
In person.
With words.
I still think my idea had merit.
Key Takeaways
- Vicki devised a passive-aggressive breakup strategy by dragging the narrator to increasingly unbearable events.
- At a drum circle, the narrator witnessed a woman detaching her prosthetic feet, leading to a realization about needing emergency detachable body parts.
- The narrator humorously contemplates the logistics and benefits of having detachable arms for better sleep.
- Despite the absurdity, the idea leads to a breakup with Vicki, who preferred traditional methods of ending relationships.
Related Links
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His first manuscript was composed entirely of punctuation marks and confused sketches. He's since published "Not Bukowski" (poems that don't rhyme) and "Slop and Swell from a Festering Mind" (essays so concerning that bookstores check on his well-being). He once spent three hours photographing a rare bird that turned out to be a plastic bag, and he's the only person banned from church bake sales for "weaponized brownies." Inheriting absurdism from Vonnegut and Adams, sprawling narratives from Irving, and weaponized failure from Moore, he writes about conflicted everymen struggling through supernatural chaos.
He has two new, offbeat novels waiting for an agent or a publisher: "Truth Tastes Like Pennies" and "Elliot Nessie."
He remains unconvinced that birds aren't surveillance drones.
More biographic lies...err...info.
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- They Parachuted the Beaver - May 5, 2026
- Red Eye Has Nothing to Fear - May 2, 2026
