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22 June 2010

Steppin' into Psycho

i was dreaming or sleep walking because that could not be the man who told me he was going to New Jersey standing 10 feet away from me. and he was not standing alone. she was short, petite, light skinned and totally opposite of me. so she was what he was doing this weekend. i tore through the store screaming like a banshee and began to pummel his face with my fists before it took 3 Nike store employees to pull me off of him. at least that was what happened in my mind, while in reality i just stood there with my face getting hotter and my heart breaking in my chest. my good friend Cree decided to let him know that i was in the building. so she saunter over there and pointed me out, but my feet were cemented to floor. after he introduced me to his "cousin", i quickly left the store and focused on something other than what had just taken place. this would not be the last time he told me lies to my face because i did stick it out for quite some time. but after a hysterical, tear filled conversation with my best friend; i was officially done. but being done did not mean being finished.

i have always been big on revenge. it is not my best quality, but i can usually be talked off the ledge. i had already started my revenge plot with this guy by cheating (so i thought) with another dude. but that backfired on me because after saying I wasn't acting girlfriend like, the bastard said "we aren't a couple anyway". so i decided that i need to be more crafty. and i thought long and hard about my plan. one day at my job while looking at a magazine, the subscription flier fell out. *light bulb* that was it, i knew exactly what i would do. i gathered up subscription fliers from OUT, The Advocate and every other homosexual magazine i could find. my douchey friend was about to get new magazines. but after i thought about that, it wasn't devious enough. what did i want to accomplish by doing this, have his credit messed up or harm his "manhood"? i had to think a little longer about this idea.

i never shared my intentions with my friends because they would have laughed about it and then talked me out of it. i wanted to talk to my mom about the situation but i did not want her to be disappointed in my actions. *light bulb* i knew exactly how i was going to get back at this dude. i had never met his parents, but i did know their address. and how upsetting would it be to discover via the United States Postal Service that your youngest son likes boys. maybe that was why you saw him with groups of men all the time. *insert evil laughter* i smiled from that moment on knowing that the drama was about to begin in his world. on a daily, i imagined the uncomfortable conversation that his father would have with him and how upset his mother would be over the situation. i could hear his explanations falling on deaf ears and his family forever questioning his preference. *light bulb* but those things never happened because i never sent the fliers to the magazine companies. i finally realized that he just did not prefer ME and that was why i was so hurt.

after that, i put my revenge hat away for a little while (until Mr. Community Dick) and worked on being a better person. that way i would find a man who preferred me over others.

side note: fellas, any woman who says that she hasn't ever thought of some form of revenge is a liar and run quickly. we all think about it, but not all of us act upon it.


Black Yoda said... I've come across Ms. CP once or twice :-)

Anonymous said...

Here is a story I would love to make public via the internet. This story is about a man called
Mr. Ball-ess (too much?)

Basically I got stiffed at a swanky NYC restaurant after dating Mr. B for a few months. He confessed his love weeks earlier and I did not return the feelings. So at dinner after ordering a bottle of wine, appetizers, and two dinners, he excused himself to go to the "bathroom". My phone beeped with a text which read:

"I know it's rude, but I left. We just aren't connecting."

All I know is that all I could see was red, and my credit card certainly connected with the restaurant's billing statement that night.

Weeks later after many conversations with girlfriends urging me to send awful magazines, tell him I am pregnant, key his car, etc., my roommate helped me get some sort of revenge.

All I can say that his entire high rise Manhattan apartment found in their mailboxes, under their doormats, over their keyholes, and plastered on community bulletin boards fliers detailing how one of their neighbors lacked a pair of balls and Southern manners.

It may have been childish, but it felt great!