ok, i apologize for the language, but i had to get that out. you know when there's a situation that you've imagined in your head a thousand times, and you've played and replayed exactly what'd you say and what you'd do? you say to yourself and others "if i ever see that guy again i'll -- " and then explain in detail your well plotted revenge, if only given the chance! unfortunately, we don't always get that chance, and usually when we do, it does not have the courtesy to stick to our plan.
three years ago my family went to israel for a month. my brother's best friend agreed to watch the house for us. perhaps some of you remember this story from when i originally told it, so this is just the briefest of recaps. we got back and i noticed some things were missing. over the next few days we realized that it wasn't just one thing that perhaps had been misplaced, many things were gone. we'd been robbed. we confronted him. he said that he'd had some people over, he'd look into it. he said he would accept responsibility. a couple of days later he was gone. fled the city! literally, the son of a bitch moved to Halifax. when we tallied up what he'd stolen, it was somewhere between 2-3 thousand dollars. from me personally, close to $1000. i HATE him.
my fantasy revenge meeting wasn't actually all that fleshed out. it mostly involved a good solid left hook to the jaw, or a swift kick to the sternum that knocked him to the ground. then maybe i'd spit on him. it was a very satisfying and cathartic resolution in this fantasy.
however, there is a very distinct difference between having the daydream, and getting the chance to act out the daydream. i got my chance, unexpectedly, tonight. i was out enjoying dinner with my sister and family, when half way through my taco salad, awareness of his presence cast a dark shadow over the evening. i sat there fuming. i couldn't just walk out of there, i had to do something. but this was my local hangout, i couldn't do anything crazy that would get me banned or anything. and now that i was facing the situation, i had to accept that violence was not an option.
when we got up to leave, i walked over to his table. he acted all surprised. "i'm going to cut right to the chase," i said flatly. "you owe me money". the rest is a bit of a blur. he leaned back cockily in his chair, nonchalantly stating "oh do i?" and "prove it". alas, i wasn't as eloquent as i would have liked, tripping clumsily over something about wishing him a miserable life with friends as deceitful and untrustworthy as he is (although not nearly that succinct), and repeating that he can deny it all he wants but he knows he stole from us. "yeah, well you can't prove anything". and he was right. we can't. it was three years ago. he got away with it and he knew it. he smirked at me smugly. i stood and stared daggers, unable to throw the deisred punch.
So i threw his salsa in his face instead.
it was somewhat satisfying, and bordered on cathartic. i aplogized to the waitress but said she should know that that customer was a no good piece of shit theif that stole from us. my sister and her husband nodded in support. i wish i'd made that last announcement to the whole bar, but what can you do; these scenarios never go as planned.
and with that, we left.