April 20, 2006
Revenge Is a Dish Best Served
Once upon a time, before Disney World and sleep studies, a dear little scamp named Michele was my 800th commenter. She sent me an awesome question, but I've been hesitant to answer it because it's quite possible that the person whom I would have to include in my answer, lurks this blog.
I'm speaking, of course, of that creepy coward, Stalky McClownerson.
This could possibly ruffle his backhairs and provoke him to renew his asshattery....
Enh, fuck it. Here's Michele's question:
I'm a vengeful person when pushed. When an ex-boyfriend (of 8 years) was cheating on me with a multitude of tarts that he met when he worked out of town, I didn't get mad, I got even. I saw in his suitcase one weekend home a large bottle of lotion, and it wasn't the brand we used at home. I knew two things about that lotion: It was going to be used to rub down his tarts, and that he'd used it on himself; or as the DeVinyl's said, "when I think about you I touch myself." So I put in massive amount of cayenne pepper, mixed well... and the next day I got a phone call from a screaming man whose penis was on fire!My questions to you —- what's the most revengeful thing you've ever done, and did you get caught or confess?
First of all, let me commend you on your penis arson. Well done!
Yes, I have taken revenge. On Stalky. See, the guy I dumped him for ended up being my first husband. But whatever -- Stalky acted like he was the first person in the history of the planet to get dumped for someone else, and that's just gay.
He called me all the predictable names -- slut, whore. Again -- whatever. If finding a muscular Latino guy more attractive than his fat ass makes me a slut, then so be it. I'm a Slut in the First Degree. Let's move on.
Oh, it just occurred to me -- I never told you the WORST stuff he did. I blanked on it until Heather and I were talking about clown-fear one day and how pervasive it is in our society.
So after I dumped Stalky, I started losing my mind. I'd come home from work and be like, "Huh. I thought I had put the blankets away." Or, "I don't remember leaving that bowl out. What was I even using it for?"
For Christmas that year, my cousin had hand-painted a gnome for me. (What? She's an artist; we're Norwegian -- get over it.) I arrived home from work to find the gnome, which normally resided on my bookshelf, standing on top of my television.
I was like, "Now I know I didn't put that there..."
And in a split-second, the whole thing dawned on me. Stalky was coming into my apartment and rearranging stuff, just to fuck with me. Not stealing, no, because that would have required actual balls. Just moving stuff.
But, Wenchie, how could he have gotten into your apartment when the only other people with keys were your parents and your saintly landlord?
One day, months prior, I had lent him my apartment key for some reason or another that made logistical sense at the time. It made sense because it was only for a few hours, and he was my BOYFRIEND. So why would I suspect him of anything?
Yeah. While the shithead was dating me, while our relationship was good, he made a copy of the key to my apartment, and I had no idea.
Now how completely sociopathic is that? Anticipating revenge while still in The Honeymoon Period. The thought still makes my skin crawl.
When I told F.H. (First Husband) about the shit Stalky was pulling, he was all, "Well, obviously, dude needs his tires slashed."
And we did. Under cover of night. And it was AWESOME!
Well, I just watched and drove the get-away car while F.H. did the actual slashing, but it was still fun!
And I have to tell you about his van. It had no other seats than the driver's seat, so when we went out, I had to sit in a folding chair. Plus? It was all full of toys, because he managed a toy store, and juggling crap from when he had gigs. Seriously, it was a dump. I mean, sure, it was still better than having to take public transportation to work, but just barely.
So that's my revenge story. As for getting caught and/or confessing, well, I guess this takes care of it, eh?
And if, indeed, the best revenge is living well and NOT tire slashing? Than I'm getting AMAZING revenge on F.H. for turning six years of my life into a frenzy of lies, co-dependency and money-scrounging. Husband treats me like a queen, I have more security, contentment and freedom than I ever thought I'd have. And F.H. is left to wallow is his own crapulence.
Pure. Awesome.
And the key? I didn't bother to ask for it back. I just phoned the landlord immediately, explained the situation and apologized profusely. He came out pronto, changed the lock himself and didn't even charge me for it, even tho' I offered. He was like, "Oh, it was an old lock anyway and needed changing." See? Saintly.
P.S. Fresh, you bastard, you never asked me a question from when you were 700th commenter. Or was it 600th? I forget. But you're still a bastard.
Comments
Deja vu - Hubby & I had 20 min convo this am on if I wanted to slash the tires of the punks who drive the mufflerless Cherokee and rev it in park for 4 minutes every time they run out for forties & fries - would a steak knife do it or would I have to soil my beloved chef knife
Posted by: qfe23 at April 20, 2006 01:40 PM
Tire slashing is good. I have had fun with barely loosening the tire stem valve. The tires keep slowly deflating and the person keeps having to inflate them until they are convinced there is a leak & then go waste hundreds on new tires that were actually fine.
Posted by: john at April 20, 2006 09:54 PM
Ooooh you finally answered it! That was good, and he was scary--tell me you were taking drugs then because---a freak'n lawn chair!!
Girl, I so much to dish I'd have to buy 10 lemon drops to get through it all. If you're ever in sacramento....the drinks are on me.
p.s. Fresh is a bastard. A fun size pie loving bastard--don'tcha just love him. ;)
Posted by: Michele at April 21, 2006 11:11 PM