Don't you just hate morons? Those people who don't clue in to the real world - ever - and realize that they're just shitheads? Let me tell you a story...
About five years ago, I was in a going-nowhere relationship. He was a complete loser who couldn't hold a job for anything, leaving me to support us both on a crappy $7.50/hour salary. When he finally did get a job, it was a night-shift one which left me without a car (I had to get a ride home from a co-worker) to come home to an empty house without cable, internet (nor computer), or interaction with people of any kind. I had to entertain myself with two fuzzy channels of broadcast tv and make something to eat if I wanted dinner (pending there was anything in the house, I also couldn't go anywhere to get something if I needed it). I also went to bed alone only to repeat again the next day. It was hellish.
So this new guy started at my company. We chatted and laughed and joked around. We quickly became friends. He liked me, but I was in a relationship (sad and pathetic as it was, I wasn't brave enough to get out of it) so for a little while, we just interacted platonically. But, I really did like him, and so many things about him were great. We started talking on the phone in the evenings and I hung out with him after work instead of going home to my empty house. Eventually, I realized that I wanted to be with him and end the sad farce that was my relationship.
I sat down with the loser and told him it was over. That I wasn't happy, hadn't been for a long time and that I had found someone else who did make me happy and I wanted to pursue that relationship instead. I hadn't cheated on him or anything, I just wanted to break it off so I could start anew. He wouldn't accept that it was over. He went totally psycho. He cried, he screamed, he raved to my friend Jef (who he didn't even know) about how he had to "save me" from my Love. He started sitting on the front step, playing with his hunting knife and even tried to propose to me to get me to stay. When I remained firm that it was over, he begged me to give him time to find a place. He pleaded with me to let him have a month to get situated. I wasn't happy about it, but I did (foolishly) feel guilty, so I agreed. We were broken up, but still lived in the same house as I started seeing my Love. Things got nasty because we still had to drive into work together (I had just weeks before, gotten him a job at my company, instead of the night shift) and we were still co-habituating. I paid the month's rent, and we planned the date we'd move out - three weeks or so hence. I spent a lot of my time at my Love's apartment instead of being around the loser.
As all this is going on, we get a serious threat of a hurricane to hit us directly. Our company closed because of the threat as did most everything. My Love's apartment was located was in mandatory evacuation zone. We packed up a bunch of his things and planned to stay at my grandmother's house because she wasn't in a flood area. When we got there, we realized that we didn't really want to be stuck there and thought we might make a road trip out of it. So we packed up the car and headed out. We tossed around the idea of heading to St. Augustine, but my Love had the notion of going to this place called Callaway Gardens that he had gone as a kid with his family on a vacation. And that's where we ended up going. Arriving way late at night, we stayed over for two days (we ended up having a three-day weekend because of the hurricane) and had a wonderful time. We consider that to be our official anniversary.
When we come back, he drops me off at my house because I need to get ready for work the next day. (The hurricane by the way, totally and inexplicably changed course at the last moment and did almost no damage to the area.) I unlock the door as he drives away and when I turn on the light, I'm faced with a disaster. The entire house has been stripped - there's nothing but my clothes on the floor and they've been trampled on. The loser's not there. I run to the phone and immediately page my Love (in the days before everyone had a cell, people had pagers). A few minutes later he calls me back from a gas station a few miles down the road. He turns around and comes back to pick me up and I never spend another night in that house.
Turns out that the loser had planned to fuck me over the whole time. He brought in a truck that weekend and a bunch of friends and emptied the house. He stole everything. Took ALL of it. Left me with a fraction of the things that were mine and left the house a complete pigsty. He had also called, posing as my step-dad (it was his house and the power was in my step-dad's name) and had scheduled the power to be shut off for the next day (Monday) knowingly with a fridge full of food. He stole one of my calling cards (the phone was in my name) and ran up three hundred dollars in charges that I tried (unsuccessfully) to dispute while I was in Georgia. All the bills that were due - the phone the power, etc. - I ended up getting stuck paying for. We tried contacting his bitch of a mother who wouldn't talk to us - even when my mom sent a letter - and would only tell us that he had left for three months to work on a cruise ship. She claimed when he came back, we could go through the stuff he had placed in the storage unit to settle what was mine and what was his and discuss his share of the bills, but of course, none of that happened. I didn't know if he really ever left, let alone if he ever came back. I took thousands of dollars in loss because I was trying to be nice and give him the time he begged for to leave him in a good situation. He also had up and left his job - the one I had gotten for him - and sent a company-wide email detailing how evil my Love and I were and getting both of us in trouble. So much for doing a kindness for someone, hu?
Flash-forward five years. I've not had any contact with the dickhead in all of that time. Nor have I wanted to. The piece of shit made such hell of things that I never wanted to see him again. So then, last month (May), there's a message in my journal feedback.
Long Lost Friend
Hey M = = noticed the date the other day - just wanted to pop in and wish you a happy belated birthday (better late than never, eh?) - you've an incredible site! Drop me a note one of these days, will ya? Take care . . . =D= --ps - condolences on the kitty :o(
Turns out it's from the dickhead. I can't believe it. The audacity of thinking I'd want to "drop him a note." I rave a bit to my friends about it but just ignore it. I (obviously) don't contact him and I certainly don't want to be friends with him.
So then yesterday, there's a new message in my feedback.
Derek Phipps
Hey "M" - - - again, happy birthday - I want to send you a cordial invitation to the Orpheum in Ybor ((corner of 8th and 14th))this Sunday. My band will be headlining the "Battle of the Bands", show starts around 6pm, though we won't take the stage till somewhere around 10-10:30. If you can't make it out, check out www.mp3.com/Tie_Breaker - we'll post the newest song (not tracked yet) when we get it. Take care, hope all is well, and I hope to hear from you (it's only been 5 years, eh?). Best Regards, Derek
Is he fucking brain dead? Why the hell would I want anything to do with him? He's 100% pure asshole with a side of dickhead thrown in for good measure. In fact, I don't ever refer to him as "Derek" (those rare times I ever mention him), I refer to him as "dickhead." Every one of my friends knows who I mean and call him the same. People who have known me long enough to have seen the shit he did hate him utterly for his selfish tantrum and the fact I got so fucked over by him.
And thus, I am replying to his message with an email of my own:
Are you stupid?
Seriously. What makes you think that I have any interest in being your friend? Was I supposed to just forget how you stole everything I owned, left me with hundreds of dollars in bills and took off? Was I supposed to ignore that you turned off the power and left the house in a state of absolute disaster that I had to clean up? Or that you had sent a company-wide email detailing how terrible a person I was? After you begged me to allow you time to find a place to live and to do you that last favor, I gave you that time, you stabbed me in the back. Did you honestly believe that I am would rejoice in your asinine attempts to be buddy-buddy and act as if we were, in fact, "old friends?"
It was over and you couldn't take it like a man so you had to be a dick. And now, suddenly, you want to act like that didn't happen. Clue in: it did. And unless you're planning on repaying me for what you broke/stole/damaged/ran away leaving me responsible for, you've got absolutely no right to speak to me. How dare you.
Contact me again with your idiotic niceties and you won't be hearing from me, you'll be hearing from my boyfriend. You remember him, right? The "knuckle-dragging Neanderthal" (as you so eloquently put it)?
This was over and done five years ago. Run away again with your tail between your legs. You're very good at it.
I am also going to be blocking his IP from my domain (gotta love the .htaccess file) and hopefully, this will be the last time I ever need to hear from him again. This, then brings us back to where we all started...don't you just hate morons? Especially when they're idiotic ex's.
~ flowers bloom near Memory and Dream
at 6/9/2003 02:10:05 PM ~
~
