I remember the day she called me bawling her eyes out, hysterical on the phone.
“He did it again. He cheated!! I don’t know what to do. What should I do? Tell me what to do.”
“Leave!” I said.
“I can’t. It’s not that simple. There’s more to it than that.”
“Oh really.” I said “So he cheats on you 3 times, controls you, comes home when he feels like it, spends all of YOUR money on God knows what, and you think he’s “a keeper”? Come on Kate… Get your head outta your ass will ya.”
She sobbed like a broken little girl “But I love him.”
“If you stay what does that say about you? Don’t you think you’re worth more than that? Is this what you are willing to accept for the rest of your life?… Cheating, lying, controlling selfish men. He’s broken you down so much that you’re not even the same person anymore. You used to be confident and sure of yourself. He’s ruined you! And he’s going to keep on ruining you unless you leave and get away from him. You deserve better Kate!”
She went silent.
This was good… It told me that she was at least listening.
I tried to lighten the atmosphere “Remember when you first got together with him, and you weren’t sure if you should stay with him or not because he had a chin strap and stunk up your pillow? You used to complain about how stinky his hair was and how it made your pillow smell.”
She laughed. “I remember. He did have a smelly head.” She looked down at the tissue in her hands, hesitated and then said “You know… I think I’d feel better if I got revenge.”
“NOW you’re talking sister.” I joked. “Get your ass over here so we can plan your epic bolt!”
Later that day she showed up with a swollen face. She’d been crying so long that her eyes were Red and squinty, her face was flushed and her nose looked like it was being aggressively attacked by pollen spores. She came in looking lost, clutching her back pack. I gave her a big hug, which made her break down again. It killed me to see her like this. This wasn’t like her at all. She usually pinned men to the ground with her stilettos.
We sat in the kitchen with a glass of Chianti. Her eyes distant. Thoughts wandering. I stared at her sympathetically and waited for her to start talking. As she was gazing off into space I noticed a smirk form in the corner of her mouth, “You know… I think I know what I wanna do” she said.
“What do you mean honey? Like where you’re gonna live?”
“No” she said. “To him… I have an idea.” Her eyes lit up like an out of control bonfire.
“Oh the revenge thing?”
“Yeah! It’s kind of illegal… But it’ll be fun and It’ll make me feel a lot better!”
“I don’t know if I like the sounds of this… Although, I do want you to feel better! What’s your idea?”
“His car. He loves his car! It’s disgusting how much he talks about it. He thinks his car is a pussy magnet. I wanna turn that fucking thing into pussy REPELLENT! I want it to turn off and disgust any woman who glances in his direction. Ruin his chances of ever getting laid in this town again. Make him feel like such a loser that he’ll have to move to a new city to escape the laughter and humiliation.”
She broke out laughing! She laughed so hard tears began rolling down her cheeks, which made me laugh, and before you knew it, we were both busting a gut laughing at her plan to ruin his life.
After a good 5 minutes of laughing and a brief pause I said “So… what do you wanna do to his car?”
“Let’s just say. We’ll be wearing all black and be armed with a couple of cans of spray paint. We’ll wait until after 1AM, that way I know he’ll be sleeping. People on our street turn in pretty early too which will help.”
“What if he presses charges?”
“He won’t. He wouldn’t DARE with those pot plants growing in the basement.”
“Oh this is too good to be true!” I said.
I saw flickers of the old Kate coming back. The strong, funny, and determined Kate. The one who knew she was too good to waste her time with an undeserving prick, who made her feel like shit about herself. I was relieved to see her regaining the strength and bitchiness that had once so endeared her. The sobbing, pathetic loser she was on the phone only hours earlier, just wasn’t her style!
The next day when fuckface (as I liked to call him) was at work, she took her personal belongings, some furniture, some of his valuables, and whatever else she felt like taking. I helped her bring a load over to my place in my brothers pick up truck. I told her she could stay as long as she wanted to or until she found a place of her own.
Later that night, around 1:30 and after a few rounds of martini’s… We dressed up in Black yoga gear and grabbed one of those winter face mask things that were popular in the eighties, and headed out. I probably shouldn’t have been driving given the sheer quantity of vodka I had consumed, but this was important and I was willing to take the risk!
We crept up her former street slowly and parked about 12 houses down so the lights wouldn’t be visible from his window. Kate giggled before opening the door and grabbed the backpack with all of our “art supplies”. When we got two houses down we put our face masks on and each picked a can of spray paint. I chose Red, Kate chose black.
Quietly laughing to myself I wrote “Small-cocked cheating asshole” on the drivers side in HUGE letters.
Kate wrote “Hope the stinky pussy was worth it” on the front hood of the car
Finally Kate took the back window and wrote “PRICK” and I took the passenger side and wrote “Cheating FUCKING loser!”
The whole thing took us about 4 minutes. We darted back to the car with our backpack, empty cans of spray paint, and a belly full of laughter waiting to erupt.
When the doors shut we sat there for fifteen minutes laughing at what we had done, imagining the looks on peoples faces as he drove around town in his vandalized BMW!! It was one of the funniest moments in history for both of us! I can’t think of a time I laughed so hard and for so long.
Kate was pretty good about not contacting him and moving on with her life. She seemed to be getting back into the swing of things. She was looking good, feeling good, and had plenty of other men hitting on her.
Well… for a couple of weeks anyway.
About a month after the incident, flowers began arriving at my house. Kate rolled her eyes the first couple of times and I promptly chucked them (and the accompanying notes) into the garbage can, not giving her time to soften. By the 4th delivery Kate pleaded with me to let her read the note. I gave it to her reluctantly and watched while she shoveled in his bullshit.
“Do you think losing me was what he needed to change?” she asked
“Kate… Don’t even go there. Fuck him! Who cares if he changes or not. Fuck him!”
Well… I didn’t mean it literally, but that’s EXACTLY what she did. She met up with him one night to (as she put it) “bring closure to the relationship”. She didn’t come home that night and moved back in with fuckface the very next day.
The following week his car had been repainted, and I heard through the grapevine that SHE paid for it!