Holding Hans with Brian Hansbury: Three’s A Crowd

Hi, I’m Brian Hansbury. Welcome to my new dating column, Holding Hans with Brian Hansbury! This is a safe place for you to share your intimates, open up in a supportive environment about your creepy fetish, and struggle to find meaning within my garbled words.

But, what of my qualifications, you ask? Am I board certified? No. Some sort of social worker? Dead wrong. Do I have an Associate’s Degree in Love? Sorta maybe, but not really. I’m just a guy who once took two dates to homecoming and is comfortable dating outside of his race. I’ve loved, but more often I’ve lost. And from that, I’ve learned. Will I always give you the perfect advice? No. Do people asking for advice sometimes want to hear the wrong thing? Yes. Here you are. Want dating advice from a zen master? Or me? Send your questions, queries and queasts to brian@neighborbeeblog.com.

After the jump, I answer my first dating question from a girl whose best friend and boyfriend are bad people who probably smell like Axe Body Spray mixed with a lack of self control.

Dear Brian,

I live with my best friend and my boyfriend. I came home the other day to find them hooking up. I can’t afford to move out of the apt, because it’s rent controlled, and their names are on the lease. What do I do?

Miserable In Manhattan

Dear Miserable,

Your problem is like the Rubik’s Cube of dating column questions, impossible to diagnose by anyone other than a savant. The only scenarios I can think of that are worse come straight from Indiana Jones movies. My best advice is to wait until May 22nd and hope that “The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” is a Hollywood metaphor for your situation. Follow Indy’s lead and you should emerge inexplicably unscathed AND in possession of bejeweled skull (that probably really belongs in a museum).

The first thing that must be understood is that you and your boyfriend are not getting back together. Good relationships are rooted in trust, not world-shattering infidelity (this column is also, metaphorically, a polemic against Bush’s foreign policy). So, when he sends you a meat-headed text saying, “babee I luv u im nuthin wifout U take me bak” you need to have the strength to hold off just a few hours until he’s drunk and texts, “cn we at leest hav sexx?” If you can hav sexx with him without crying too much, I say do it! You’ll be having a lot less sexx now anyway, so, take it where you can get it (you can also get it from any of my friends. Or most Spanish men on the street. Respond to a holla!).

Why don’t I double up on this whammy and say that you actually do have to move out. I don’t care if it seems impossible in light of your finances. You will not begin to recover from your emotional wounds until you remove yourself from the situation. Much like an extra from the Weekend at Bernie’s series, I once had to pretend an ex-girlfriend had died in order to get over her cheating. Your heart is more vulnerable right now than your checking account. As a New Yorker, I command you to be the resourceful person you are and channel your despair into zealous Craigslist apartment perusing. If nothing ideal comes along and you find yourself stuck in the Den Of Adultery, you could always just decide to radically alter your worldview and suggest a three-way. I can at least guarantee that your ex is down. Some ideal templates for how to proceed in this manner are the movie “Three Of Hearts” starring Billy Baldwin or Roseanne Barr’s three-way marriage. Both are from the 90s! For a template on how to radically alter your worldview, might I suggest Freaky Friday or any of it’s 23 other incarnations. Hope I could help!

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