Man LIVE TWEETS Break-Up At Burger King

Web developer Andy Boyle may be the first person to live-tweet a breakup. It all went down on Monday, November 7th at a Burger King. Boyle started with the Tweet: “I am listening to a marriage disintegrate at a table next to me in this restaurant. Aaron Sorkin couldn’t write this any better.” He then proceeded to detail the conversation the young couple was having and even included pictures.

Check out his Twitter stream below!!

These kids must be 21, tops. His main complaint? She doesn’t clean the dishes when his mom asks her to.

She is sobbing quite loud. He gets up and walks out. She stays. We all feel quite awkward. Do we console her? No one does anything.

He is back. She is telling him she didn’t cheat. He doesn’t believe her. He says he loves her anyway. He sits. We are more calm.

Another unrelated couple, who has been giving me the “can you believe this?” look, is hugging each other in response to this drama.

“Baby,” he says. “I only say these things because I want you to be a better wife.” The restaurant does not believe him.

She thinks it is unfair that he gets to play video games and she has to clean when “his mother” tells her. We agree.

“If you loved me,” he says, “you would want me to be happy.” We notice his argument is not swaying her.

“I don’t want to hear it!” she shouts. The tables are turned: She is now accusing him of lying, of what we do not know.

“Why did you even marry me?” he asks. “Because I loved you,” she responds. “Loved me?” We all notice the past tense.

The couple.

Apparently they both think the other cheated because of missed phone calls on occasion. It must be noted he has a speech impediment.

“A big lie and a small lie are the same thing,” he says. “And I told you not to lie!”

I have no clue if you can hear this, but here’s a snippet:

“I am a gentleman,” he says. She stands up at his audacity and states out the window. Someone’s phone on speaker is blocking their chat.

“Go!” she says. “Run away like a scared little boy!” He continues sitting, eating his fries.

She has moved to another table, still facing him.

“Let’s go outside,” she says. “Why? Let’s do this here. Everyone needs to know what kind of a wife you are.”

He is now critiquing how she dressed at a party recently. “I like dressing like that,” she says. “I get to decide how you dress,” he says.

He is now swearing a lot, mentioning something about cutting his hand in the dishwasher (?) and that’s why he shouldn’t clean dishes.

“It was only one time!” he admits. “I only did one time, too!” she says. “That doesn’t make us even.”

“You want to bring up the slap? I’ll bring up everything. It wasn’t a punch. If it was, I would’ve left,” he says.

Just so those are aware, he is not being physically imposing or threatening violence. I would call the cops if that was the case.

They are now speaking too quiet for me to hear as U2’s “Beautiful Day” plays. Seriously.

“It’s kind of weird having to talk to you about this here,” she says. He laughs. She sort of laughs.

“I understand that some of this is on me,” he says. People at a nearby table actively laugh after this.

He brings up something about having a baby. She runs out. He empties the tray and follows.

She comes back in. She apologizes. He shrugs. They walk into the vestibule and he sorta hugs her. They depart.

Their chair is now empty, just like the love in their marriage. With this, I depart.