Two years ago this month came Negroni Season, a terrifying installment in the incredible true tales of The Worst Boyfriend in the World. It has been three years since the first installment, Crazy Like a Foxwoods. (We'll be wrapping this up in the year 2024.) Now it's Negroni season once again—so let's dive back in to learn what came next!

What kept me going during the first year of living together was the belief that if the Boyfriend could just quit drinking for good, as he occasionally attempted to do, we’d be home free.

And, even though my "Sober Sundays" initiative never took off, somehow that’s what [...]

Episode One in the incredible true story of the Worst Boyfriend In The World: The End of a Five Year Relationship.

Me: But I don't understand. If you knew you wanted to break up, why did you stay here and have sex with me for the last two days?

Him: (exasperated) "It's not like I dislike you."

It's been a long time since we've heard one of Evelyn Everlady's horrifying true stories about The Worst Boyfriend in the World. So before we leave you for the long weekend, and to wrap up our welcome to summer series, she's baaaaack. Why? Because now it is Negroni Season. Think of this as a reminder to drink and date responsibly this weekend.

It was the spring of 2005 and I was living with the man that I, a bit stubbornly perhaps, had decided was the love of my life. The thing about choosing to live with a rapidly-approaching-bottom alcoholic is that there are just so [...]

The worst boyfriend in the world was, for a good long while, an alcoholic. Not the oh, I tied one on with the fellas and said a lot of stupid shit variety. We're talking the serious and scary, need-a-glass-of-vodka-first-thing-in-the-morning-or-I-will-throw-up-from-withdrawal kind. Strangely enough, it wasn't the alcoholism that made him a shitty boyfriend (though it didn't help), it just happened to exacerbate all the qualities that did.

Such as: sloppy sneakiness!

For example, during year one of co-habitation, he called me at work around 3 p.m. on a Friday to tell me that something terribly urgent was calling him out of town. It was a semi-plausible reason, in fact, [...]