My Sad Attempt at Revenge

There were ten of us that went out that night. Carrie and I had picked a bar a mile down the road in order to get out of the neighborhood. A pointless endeavor, since everyone with us was from the circle, but I liked this group. They were drunk and fun and respectful.

The Quarter was a Louisiana themed semi-biker bar and I knew most the regulars. I felt safe at the Quarter. A majority of the men that went there were friends of mine, which meant I could be open and talkative and comfortable. I could be myself.

Then it began. The regulars left, the strangers started flooding in, Carrie had wandered off to a table with two men, and my group of circle people headed back to the Crown. I cut myself off of wine and switched to beer. The game plan was to become serious and unapproachable. It usually worked, if the men weren’t too intoxicated, and it let me drink in peace. It isn’t that I dislike men. Most guys I meet in my daily life are extremely nice/polite people. I am just wary of strange inebriated dudes in bars. All women should be. It’s how not to be murdered.

Carrie: Hey! Don’t sit alone. Come join us.

Me: I’m good here, honestly.

One if the guys at her table pulled a chair next to him and pointed at it. Should I be polite and sit down or should I be stubborn and not acknowledge his gesture? I went with polite.

Carrie: This is Jay and Evan. They’re brothers. And get this… they live in the circle! Isn’t that crazy?

Awesome. I nodded and lifted my glass. I think I even smiled. And then I sized the two up.

Jay wore a t-shirt and jeans. His hair was cut short but was long enough to be slightly tangled. He had a good buzz going and his full attention was on Carrie. He hung on her words, laughed at her jokes, made a few compliments. Mostly, he seemed sweet. I could relax around him.

Evan, however, was the complete opposite. He wore a button up shirt, dress pants, shiny shoes and way too much cologne. His hair was perfect and his smile was… dishonest. He was drunk and he had that look in his eye like I might just be his sure thing. He had no idea how wrong he was.

Evan: You have a beautiful name.

Me: I’d like to think so.
Evan: Is it Polish?
Me: Greek.
Evan: Are you seeing anyone?

Jesus Christ. He jumped right into that one. I shook my head and pulled out my phone. Whenever I want to escape a situation, I use technology. This works anywhere. Pretend you are answering an important text and people will wait for all of thirty seconds and then move their attention elsewhere. I use it at bars, at work, in all social situations, and to get out of answering awkward questions.

Evan: You are a very attractive girl. My brother and I thought you and Carrie were in the top ten of the prettiest women here.

Me: (intently texting no one) There are only about ten women in this bar. But thank you.
Evan: Ha! Do you come to this place a lot?
Me: (still texting no one) I suppose.
Evan: Why here?
Me: (still texting no one) I’m not sure.

And then he did it. He grabbed my phone. I felt the blood rush to my face and I took a deep breath.

Evan: (handing me back my phone) Will you please pay attention to me?

Me: I suggest you not touch my phone again. Ever.
Evan: Whoa. Okay. I am just trying to have a conversation with you.
Me: Understood. But try doing it less asshole-y.
Evan: Ha! You’re funny.

Hmm. I wasn’t really going for funny.

Carrie: Jay wants to go to the Duck!

Me: Absolutely not. No way.
Carrie: Don't worry. I texted your ex and he says it’s fine.

My ex was a bouncer at that bar, and him and I in the same area usually meant an argument. Not immediately. But later. He always found reasons to be upset.

Me: No. I don’t want to go anywhere near there.

This time I got a real text.

Ex: Carrie says she wants you to come to the Duck. You know I am fine with you being here.

Me: I’m not. Thanks anyway, though.
Ex: Who are you two with?
Me: Some guys named Evan and Jay. I guess they’re brothers.
Ex: The ones that live in the circle?
Me: Yeah. You know them?
Ex: Ha! Those are the dudes I fought because of you!
Me: The night the police came?
Ex: Exactly.
Me: Never mind. I’m coming to the Duck.

Many months prior to this, when the ex and I first broke up, I was walking home from the Crown and I heard some people arguing. At the time I paid little attention to it. People argue.

Back then I looked a bit different. I had darker hair, always wore my thick glasses, and dressed in baggy t-shirts and jeans. I was unassuming and even more reserved than I am now.

So what was the argument I heard? That night Jay, Evan, a group of their friends and my ex were standing outside Evans apartment. Jay and Evan saw me walking by and made a snide remark about how I looked. My ex went into a rage and a fight ensued. Police were called and people were told to leave.

Me, I was oblivious. When the ex came home later that night and told me the story, he thought I would be impressed that he defended my honor. I was not impressed. I was tired and annoyed. But mostly, I was sad that people could be so mean. Maybe I was even a little hurt.

I am not usually a vengeful person. I don’t see the point in investing negative energy into anything; it seems childish. Yet the irony here was glaring. The same prick who only months ago was insulting me to a group of guys, now wanted to flirt with me, buy my drinks, get my number. He had no idea I was that other girl. None at all.

Me: (flashing my biggest smile to Evan) I’d love to go to the Duck with you.

Evan: (winking) Great!

We headed to the Duck and Evan pulled his best gentleman card. He opened the car door for me, rubbed my leg, tossed a few compliments. This was going to be easy.

My ex lifted his eyebrow when he saw us walking in.

Ex: What are you going to do to him?
Me: Not quite sure. I’m kind of winging it.

Even he knew I sucked at the whole revenge thing.

Ex: (laughing) Good luck.

The bar was packed and Evan took my arm to the only open space.

Evan: What do you want to drink?

Me: (leaning in so only the bartender could hear me) What is your most expensive beer?
Bartender: The Chimay Red.
Me: That’s what I want.

I am not sure how many I went through or how many I dumped in the bathroom sink. But it was enough of a small win to make me smile. I know, I know. That isn’t very creative. I should have just went home and called it a night. But strangely, it felt good.

We left the bar and Evan dropped off Jay and Carrie.

Evan: Can I walk you home?

Me: Of course.

I am not sure what we talked about but by the time we got to my building, I was sure he thought he would get lucky.

Evan: Why are we stopping? Don’t you live here?

Me: Yes. But I really don’t want you to know which apartment is mine.
Evan: Ok? Why is that?
Me: Because, Evan. You are a fucking prick.
Evan: Whoa! Does this mean no kiss?
Me: God no. Fuck no. That would be nauseating. And your bar game? Does that ever work for you? I mean, you must know how disgustingly transparent it is.
Evan: Wow. You’re a little crazy.
Me: Probably. Thanks for the drinks, though.

The fact that it still makes me laugh to think about that night probably means that I am a terrible person. And why I was more upset with him than Jay is something I have never figured out.

Most importantly, I need to start embracing my darker side. Because when it comes to most things nasty (lying, vengefulness, manipulation) I really am awful at them. But this revenge thing, at least my sad attempt at it, felt… well, amazing.