BROOKLYN, N.Y.—Gary died peacefully in his home on February 1, 2060. He was eighty years old. Gary was a cherished brother, son, nephew, and friend—but, notably, never a husband. He lived a happy-enough life, but one tinged with regret. His final words were, “I should never have ended things with Danielle.”
Gary was born on January 16, 1980, in Westchester, New York, and passed away in his Bushwick sublet. All six of his roommates were at his bedside. He is survived by his sister, Kate, his brother, Mike, and his mother, Linda, all of whom adored Danielle and have never really forgiven Gary for letting such a great girl get away. His only notable achievement was being the oldest improviser ever to perform on a UCB house team.
Gary dated Danielle from 2015 to 2016, and from 2016 to 2017, and a little bit in 2019, too. She sat through all of his improv shows without complaint, despite being much funnier than he was. At thirty-nine years old and not getting any less bald, he informed her that he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. He told her this via text, on her birthday, which he had forgotten.
After they broke up for good, Danielle had her pick of eligible and emotionally available men, but eventually settled down with the movie star and feminist sensation Benedict Cumberbatch. Together, they have six children, nine grandchildren, and three labradoodles. But this isn’t about the Kraeses (he insisted on taking her name) and how happy they are—which is too bad, because their story would probably sell a lot of newspapers.
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Just as Danielle predicted, Gary never met another woman willing to put up with his bullshit. Throughout the rest of his life, he’d often lie awake remembering something funny she’d said during their time together. Sometimes, he’d take out his phone to text her, then stop himself. One time, he actually did send a late-night “U up?” to which she immediately replied, “U grown up?” He really did miss her quick wit. The next morning, Benedict Kraese showed up at Gary’s apartment—not to fight him, just to have a heart-to-heart and see if Gary was doing O.K. He brought French macarons.
In his later years, Gary grew as reclusive as one can be while sharing a bathroom with six people. Some weeks, he left the apartment only for practice with his musical-improv team, “Yes, Andrew Lloyd Webber.” He didn’t bother trying to date anyone after Danielle, because he knew no one could ever measure up.
Rumor has it that he never had sex again, either.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that you make a donation to Spike, the guy Gary was subletting from. Apparently, Gary owes him eight months in back rent and many thousands of dollars for some fire damage that compromised the apartment’s structural integrity (the result of an unfortunate Kegerator accident).
Danielle, we all miss you. Please call.
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