Monday,
January 1, 1979
bombshell
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New Year's Day,
1979, 6:30 am. I felt unbelievably crabby when
I awoke on Patricia's couch. Although I had
survived December, so far January didn't
look much better.
Patricia
walked in. No good morning kiss, but at least
she said hello. I
watched as she made coffee, then joined her at the table. Noting the serious
expression on her face, I figured this was it. If she
didn't break up with me, I would do it myself.
However, I misread her expression. Nothing
could have prepared me for what came next.
I repeat... Nothing could have prepared me for this.
"Rick, I
have decided to go see an old boyfriend who lives in Los
Angeles. His name is George. I have a flight
scheduled for this coming Friday."
What?!?
My mouth dropped open.
Ow! This really hurt! Patricia could have slapped me in the face
and not caused more pain than these words. Overwhelmed by a sick feeling in my stomach,
a flood of thoughts rushed into my
mind. This had to be the reason
why
Patricia was so distant last night. What the hell
is wrong with this woman? If Patricia knew she was headed to Los Angeles, why would she call
me for a date, then subject me
to last night's exercise in futility? Filled with
overwhelming animosity, I decided there must be something clinically wrong
with Patricia.
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Fighting to
control my anger, I needed clarification. "Please
explain what this is about."
"I met George on a
business trip a couple years ago. We hit it off. I saw
him again last year and we picked up where we left off.
However, long distance relationships are tough, so I broke it off
about a month before I met you.
Now I think I may have made a mistake. I want to see if there
is any energy
between us that might still be there. I have to know the answer.
Otherwise I will never be able
to settle down."
I felt dizzy and
out of control. Was it jealousy? I wasn't sure.
But whatever it was, I was so upset I could barely ask the next
question. "What does George do for a
living?"
"He is a celebrity
attorney."
Why was I not
surprised? The utter cruelty was unbearable.
Patricia was
leaving me to see a man who could afford her.
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Now I
knew what I was upset about. At the word 'attorney',
my ancient feelings of inferiority returned to
overwhelm me. Overcome by some
sort of vertigo, the room began spinning. When
she said "I will never be able to settle
down", my thin skin interpreted her words as "I am unwilling to settle
for you, Rick, knowing someone better might still be available."
I had just lost Patricia to the Better Man.
I could not think of a worse insult.
Patricia had attacked the
rawest nerve in my body, my fear that I was not
equal to the best and brightest of men. Why did
this woman think so little of me? If this is how she viewed
me, why did she keep me hanging around?
Or maybe the
better question was why I kept hanging around. What
was I doing here?
Trembling, I was so upset,
I could not say a word. I
was so disconcerted I
completely forgot I intended to break up with Patricia
this morning. That was how confused I was. I stared
in horror as I tried to digest her words. I
think I was in shock. What an unbelievably cruel,
nasty trick! How could anyone be so cold? I thought
back to Vanessa. Yes, Vanessa had been evil.
Yes, Vanessa had betrayed me. However, deep down I knew she really cared for me.
Her problem was she lacked the guts to admit she
preferred the other guy.
This was different.
It wasn't just the Bombshell. That was cruel enough.
It was the way Patricia presented it... asking for an
unnecessary date with the promise of friendship, the joyless
dinner, the perfunctory sex... it all felt like a set-up.
To me, the context surrounding her nasty Bombshell was
nothing short of pure, unadulterated hostility. This
felt like Revenge. This felt like Patricia's
payback for defying her during the Rock Star
Argument.
Convinced there was malicious intent, I snapped.
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Feeling a giant
surge of rage, I wanted to kill this
woman! Yes, I know, violence towards women is wrong.
But to hell with right or wrong. In this moment, I wanted to slap Patricia so hard that
I would knock her unconscious.
I had never hit a woman in my life, but right now I was on
the edge of doing just that. Seething with rage, I
felt my hands ball into fists. Terrified of losing
control, I rose from the table and swiftly walked out the door. Slamming the door behind me, I took
the steps of her outdoor staircase three at a time. Seething with
anger as I drove home, I trembled at the thought I had come within inches
of smacking the bitch. Of all the nerve! Slowly but
surely, my mind tried to wrap itself around Patricia's latest stunt. Two
burning questions came to mind.
•
Why did Patricia
call me for a New Year's Eve date knowing full well she was going to
see George?
•
Why did Patricia
feel the need to tell me about George in the first place?
Now I was angry
at myself for leaving so fast. I wished I had stuck
around long enough to get an honest answer to both questions. I could
not believe Patricia had subjected me to last night's awful Charade knowing full
well she was going to pull this George stunt in the morning. And what
was the point of the tepid, meaningless sex?
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But that was not
what bothered me the most.
Why was HER KITCHEN
TABLE speech EVEN necessary?
Did Patricia deliberately try to humiliate me? If so,
she had succeeded royally. I did not get it. What was the point of telling me
about George? There is a famous saying, 'What he doesn't know
won't hurt him.' All Patricia had to do was walk
me to the door in the morning, thank me for last night, then kiss me goodbye.
After that she could hop on a plane to any city in the country and I would never
know about it.
Instead Patricia
went out of her way to make darn sure I knew exactly what she was up to.
This had to be revenge. What else could it be? Unable to find any sensible
reason to justify her wicked behavior, I believed Patricia wanted to hurt me. Patricia
had deliberately rubbed my
face in my fear of mediocrity.
WHY DID SHE CALL
ME FOR A DATE??
I was obsessed
to find a non-hostile reason for Patricia's strange
behavior. If there was one, it eluded me. The
more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Just hop on a plane and go. I would
have never known. We had no commitment to each other.
The Rock Star Argument had put an end to our relationship in
my mind, so I assumed it had the same effect in her mind as
well. Considering she was planning to see George, there was
no justifiable reason to call me for a
New Year's date. Why would she do this? I
decided her
motive was the desire to hurt me. Given that Patricia had insulted
me in the cruelest way imaginable, I was convinced no decent
woman would behave the way she
had. It blew my mind to realize Patricia was capable of
something like this.
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Filled
with hate, the anger I felt was equivalent to December 1973.
Shortly before Christmas I had called
Vanessa in Portland only to discover her old boyfriend Kenny was staying at her
house. It had taken me five years to get over Vanessa. God only
knows how long it would take to recover from Patricia.
Bitter beyond reason, I wondered if I would ever trust another woman as long
as I lived.
Why did I over-react so badly?
I think my sense of
inferiority is the best explanation.
Remember, the whole point of dating Patricia was to prove to
myself that I was not inferior to my high
and mighty St John's classmates.
I needed reassurance that I had the ability to date a
woman the same caliber as the girls who ignored me back in
high school.
Adding fuel to my rage was the sense that Patricia had gone
far out of her way to kick a wounded dog.
Patricia had systematically berated me for
the past two months about my
pathetic Disco job while demanding I go to law school.
So the fact that she was going to visit a 'celebrity lawyer'
exploited the rawest nerve in my
psyche.
I felt like Patricia was spitting
on me. What other reason could explain
her motive for ANNOUNCING
what she was doing? There was no
reason to tell me. When combined with
her needless request for a New
Year's Eve date, this whole thing felt like a
deliberate set-up, an elaborate 'Fuck you, Rick'
payback. And what did I
ever do to deserve
to be treated like that?
NOTHING. This woman went far out of her way to punish me
and it worked.
I flipped out.
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SATURDAY,
January 6, 1979, age 29, the disco years
A VERY DARK
WORLD
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It was Saturday, January 6.
This would be an unforgettable day
which shall live in infamy.
I had
thought December was the worst it could possibly be.
Wrong. The first week of January was even
worse. Since New Year's Day hit on a Monday, January dance
classes would not start until Monday the 8th.
That gave me seven of the longest days of my life to
sit at home mired in depression. This past week had been sheer hell. Now that I had resigned from my Child Welfare job, I saw no one. Other than a few calls for January
dance class
information, I talked to no one. Even the Jet Set
Club was gone. I resigned shortly before Christmas due to
falling interest.
With no one to talk to, all I did was
brood. Big mistake. Thinking about this issue non-stop only served to make my mood grow
darker with each passing day.
At first
I tried to find a way to excuse the way Patricia
had
handled her announcement. Although her
actions struck me as premeditated, I did not
want to believe my former girlfriend had been deliberately cruel.
Unfortunately, no matter how much I
analyzed Patricia's decision to see George, I could not find a
forgivable reason to
explain why she handled her announcement in such a strange way. I
asked the same question over and over again.
Why
did she feel the need to tell me about George?
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We were not in a committed relationship. Not once had
we discussed being faithful to one another. As far as
I was concerned, we were not even in a relationship. So here is my point.
If Patricia wanted to see her old boyfriend, don't let me stop her.
Hey, I was the one who walked out the door following
the Rock Star Argument. Given the ensuing 10
days of silence, Patricia had every right to begin
looking elsewhere. From where I stood, there was no reason for her to feel guilty about seeing an old lover. Nor
did she owe me an explanation. Like I keep saying, just hop on the
plane and I would have never been the wiser. In fact, if I had an
old girlfriend I wanted to see (and I wish I did), I would have done the same thing in her
shoes. BUT I WOULD NOT HAVE TOLD PATRICIA ABOUT IT! What bothered me was the
double insult of the horrible New Year's Eve date followed by her insane
announcement regarding George. Why would she bother having
sex on New Year's Eve knowing full well she was headed to Los Angeles?
The word 'Deliberate'
haunted me. Patricia had deliberately tried to hurt me. No
matter how I looked at it, it was impossible to find any alternative
explanation. Her actions felt like treachery, a likely act of
revenge. If so, revenge for what? For not telling her I grew
up poor when we first met? For not going to law school? For
taking a private dance lesson with Victoria? For dancing with
Joanne at the Christmas Party? What kind of woman rips a man's
heart out for petty stuff like that? The immense damage to
my pride was not just psychological, it was physical too. My
nerves were on fire and I felt pain throughout my body. Unable to
give Patricia the benefit of the doubt, I was consumed with hatred,
jealousy, and torment.
I wanted revenge in the worst way!
I wanted revenge more than any other time in my entire life!
Not even Vanessa had made me
this mad. Friday night, January 5, was the worst.
It was sheer hell. I did not sleep a wink. I assumed Patricia
had boarded her plane sometime earlier that day for her big Los Angeles
weekend.
George was a celebrity attorney, probably very wealthy. No doubt George took
Patricia to a fashionable restaurant. No doubt George sweet-talked,
flattered and wooed over drinks at a swanky
nightclub. No doubt the two enjoyed intense pleasure in his
bedroom overlooking the ocean afterwards. Despite my best
efforts, I could not stop obsessing over the vision of George and
Patricia wrestling in the throes of passion.
The problem with Rock Bottom
is that you automatically assume things are so bad they cannot possibly
get worse. When I awoke Saturday morning, that is exactly what I
told myself. One of the lessons I would learn
today is to never say something that stupid again. Repeat after me: Rock Bottom
is not Rock Bottom. No matter how bad it is, things can always get worse.
Friday night and the wee
hours of Saturday early
morning were unbearable. Plagued by thoughts of Patricia in the
arms of her lover George, I was consumed with feelings of rage and
betrayal. It is a wonder I even slept at all.
After an hour or so of fitful sleep, my mind
returned to Patricia the moment I awoke. It was not that Patricia was doing
something wrong, it was the way she did it! I felt like she was using sex as a
weapon to make me feel inferior. More than likely she wanted to
make me jealous. It worked. Patricia's lack of discretion
had sent me plummeting to my darkest mood in ages. Subjected
to repeated tongue lashings, I had been a
servile underdog to Patricia throughout November and December. Now Patricia had stripped my last shred
of dignity by announcing her intention to visit her former lover. I cursed the ground she walked on.
Not only did I hate Patricia, I hated myself. Why
did I dismiss all the warning signs? Why was I unable to rip myself away from
this woman despite hint after hint
that she was rotten to the core? Now that Patricia's cruelty had
turned me into a basket case, my self-esteem spiraled to astounding
new depths,
It hurt so much to admit what
bothered me the most. The whole point of dating Patricia was to
prove to myself I was equal to the best, the brightest, the most
beautiful of all St. John's girls. I had not given it much thought
till now, but Patricia's interest was also meant to validate my standing
with my male classmates. Patricia must have sensed this. As
her parting shot she made it clear I was nothing more than a
lowly dance teacher while George was the famous divorce attorney to the
stars. Her scheme worked to perfection. I felt
totally inferior to George. Last night Patricia had slept with the Better Man.
She could not have found a more vulnerable spot in my psyche. Last summer I
lost Jenny to Randy, I lost
Nancy to Stephen. I could attract beautiful women, but
once they got to know me, I couldn't keep them. I had
hoped to meet a woman like Patricia as a Test of my progress. Be careful what you
ask for. Yet again I had lost my woman to the Better Man.
Irritable and grouchy, I
decided to take an early Saturday walk
with my dogs Emily and Sissy to relieve some of the tension.
Depressed out of my mind, every step was an ordeal. The winter world around me was
bleak and
barren. The lyrics to a song reverberated in my thoughts. "All
the leaves are brown and the sky is gray." There had been
quite a bit of sleet and rain lately. The temperature was barely
above freezing, the
wind was biting, the trees were bare. Due to heavy rain, dead grass
had turned to mud and the streets were full of slush. This was the kind of wet,
ugly, miserable day Houston is known for in January.
Unlike most places, Houston never gets cold enough for snow.
However we do
get plenty of drizzle which turns our world to mud.
Although I was shivering in the cold, misting rain, I was so numb I
did not feel a thing. Fortunately my dogs knew better. They quickly did their business
and suggested we go back inside.
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I wanted to get back at
Patricia so badly it was driving me to madness. It upset me no end that I could not get these
thoughts of
vengeance out of my mind. Unable to lash back, I wanted to shrivel up in a
ball and go blotto. Why couldn't I sleep? Since I was not
much of a drinker, sleep was
my only refuge from these terrible thoughts. I was
exhausted from lack of sleep, but with a groan I remembered I had a private lesson to teach in 30
minutes. Against my will, I forced myself to get going.
As I drove to the studio, the
ugly world outside matched my ugly mood inside.
It was so gloomy, I had to turn on my car lights just to see through the
thick mist and fog. My mood worsened as
I viewed the dreary winter shades of gray. If it had been just a
little colder, we would have had lovely white snow. No such luck. Instead the 33°
temperature guaranteed an unwelcome landscape of freezing rain and brown
street slush
to match my growing horror. Just then the car in front of me
hit a low spot filled with water. In the process, a
thick spray of street grime blanketed my windshield.
Completely blind, I hit the brake and skidded.
Fortunately no one was behind me. After a curse
and giant primal scream of rage, I forced myself to continue to the dance studio.
Did I hate
Patricia? Oh yes. I hated her with every ounce of
my being. But even worse, I hated myself for not
leaving her with dignity when the obvious opportunities
presented themselves. The worst part was crawling
back when she asked for a New Year's Eve date.
Lacking any control in this relationship, I despised
myself for letting her kick me around. I should
have learned my lesson with Vanessa, but now I had
repeated the same mistakes by clinging to Patricia.
When would I ever learn?
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SATURDAY,
January 6, 1979, the disco years
the private
ACROBATICS lesson
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During my lonely Holidays,
the phone had been very quiet. However, I did get a
recent call from a man
named Steve. He and his girlfriend Susan had seen
Joanne and I perform at the Pistachio Club Christmas Party.
They had been so impressed, Susan had told Steve she wanted to
learn acrobatics. After I agreed to a Saturday private lesson, Steve had a follow-up request. Susan was a little
fearful, so she wanted Joanne to participate for
reassurance. This way Susan could see what the
move looked like plus ask questions best answered by a woman
who knew what she was doing. Steve added he was more
than willing to pay extra. I said I would ask, so I
called Joanne at work to see if she would join us on
Saturday morning. Joanne was happy to hear from me.
Joanne said she would love to help,
adding she had not been dancing since the Christmas Party
over a month ago. After thanking her, I insisted I would split the proceeds of the
lesson 50-50. I thought that was the fair thing
to do. I had wanted
to call Joanne several times over the Holidays, but held back
for fear my loneliness would lead to problems. I had enough trouble as it was.
Due to the lousy
weather, everyone was late but me. While I waited
alone in the chilly studio, my foul mood deepened.
There is a psychological theory that says if you cannot
direct your anger to the appropriate target, you take that
anger out on yourself. I believe in that theory.
Right now I was so ashamed of myself
for my weakness that I wanted to rip the skin off my
face. No, I
was not suicidal, but I was in a lot of pain. The self-hate was sheer agony because I knew I had set myself up to
get kicked in the face. I still could not get it out of
my mind that Patricia had gone out of her way to hurt
me. With every fiber of my
being, I wanted to pay her back. Consumed with
bitterness, my mood alternated wildly between fury and
despair. No matter how
hard I tried, I could not get that damn woman out
of my mind.
Finally everyone
arrived. However my problems
made it hard for me to concentrate during the lesson. Thoughts of Patricia spoiled
any joy teaching dance held for me. Patricia saw me as
a loser. Disco would
fade and so would I. If I believed Patricia, I would never amount to anything.
And what about her contempt for my spiritual beliefs?
What had possessed me to bare my soul like that? Well, it was
over now. I would never see her again. Why would
she
bother with a
loser like me? Why settle for less? Better to fly all the way to Los Angeles to
have sex with George, the big shot celebrity attorney.
I still did not understand why she
had openly shown her mockery of me. Why would anyone kick an
injured dog? Throughout the lesson my insecurity gnawed at me like
a flesh-eating virus.
After the
lesson, I gave Joanne her share of the money. She accepted it
gratefully, but had a worried
look on her face.
"Are you okay, Rick? You seem
very upset."
"I'll be okay,
Joanne. Patricia and I had a fight, so what's
new?"
Joanne nodded
sympathetically. Right now I just wanted to
go home and continue feeling sorry for myself. I thanked Joanne for
her concern and said it was time to go. As we walked
in silence to the parking lot, the cold wind and misting rain
served to
deepen my despair. My life really sucked.
Convinced things could not possibly be worse, seconds later
things got worse.
My car would not start!! Oh my God, the battery is dead! Unbelievable. I had been so distracted by my problems that I
had
left my car lights on after arriving at the studio.
This was it, this was the Rock Bottom of all Rock Bottoms. I
had never felt more utterly
futile and pathetic. My anger at Patricia had caused this.
Goddamn that woman! This was all her fault.
Unbeknownst to
me, Joanne had kept an eye out from a distance.
Noticing my trouble, she
drove her car over and asked if she could help. I smiled wanly
and thanked her for coming to my rescue. I had some
battery cables, so I tried to jump my car. But
now I
made
another mistake. I was so preoccupied with Patricia
that I put the cables on backwards. The positive end
of the cable was on the negative end of the battery and so
on. The
moment Joanne turned on the ignition, sparks flew and there
was a nasty 'Pop!' sound. Then I
smelled burning. Oh great, thanks to my overwhelming
day of stupidity, I had just fried
the wires to my car battery. And with that my
very bad day went from horrible to worse. I had just
fried my car, Patricia was probably
having sex with George
this very moment, and now I was stuck at the dance studio in freezing
rain.
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Hanging my head in
despair, the Abyss was calling. I hated myself every
waking moment. According to Patricia, I sucked as a human
being. Lost in a
whirlpool of bitterness and self-pity, one more blow to the jaw and I was going down. It was me against
Patricia... and Patricia wasn't just winning, she was running up the
score.
Seeing how out
of control I was, Joanne
took over. Bless her soul.
"Hey,
Rick, stop picking on yourself! I don't know what is bugging you,
but stop it! Listen, I have a
suggestion. I have a friend who is a car mechanic.
Why not let me give him a call?"
We went back inside
the studio to use the phone. We were in luck.
Joanne's friend
wasn't doing anything, so he said he would be right over. Joanne and I practiced
some moves while we waited and that helped cheer me up. Joanne's
kindness was a huge tonic for my jangled nerves. Sure enough,
30 minutes later Joanne's friend Josh walked in. Josh said the battery was
okay. All he needed to do was replace the singed wires.
Josh
replaced the wires, then gave me a jump. As my car roared
into action, I handed Josh $30 for ten minutes of work
and he was on his way.
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Joanne had saved my
day. Incredibly grateful, I thanked her profusely.
Maybe the world wasn't such a bad place after all.
Joanne
smiled and said I
was welcome. It was time to go. However, when
Joanne didn't get back in her
car, I was confused. Although
Joanne was visibly shivering in the cold drizzle, she
stood there watching me with the oddest smile.
That is when I got it. I knew exactly what that look meant.
The Heart is a
Lonely Hunter.
Joanne's
acute hunger had never been more apparent. Hmm.
Clever girl. Well aware how weak I was, Joanne had picked the
perfect moment to
make her move. With my guard down, the temptation
to give into Joanne's siren call
was enormous.
What should I
do? As Joanne and I stared at each other in the
misting rain, one
thought
dominated. Patricia insulted me for
teaching dance. Joanne admired me. The contrast could not have
been greater. Why
couldn't Patricia appreciate me for what I was good at like Joanne?
Joanne said
nothing. Nor did she make any move to go. She
just stood there with a hopeful smile. Unlike my rain
coat, her sweater was not water-proof. I could tell Joanne was getting
soaked. Good grief, this
woman had to be uncomfortable, but she was determined to stick around until I made up my mind. Her act of
devotion touched me deeply. All I could think about was how grateful I was to Joanne for all the
help she had given me. Not just today, but every Monday for the
past four
months. Every week she drove all that way back and
forth. I thought about all the times she had rescued
me in dance class during my Imposter days. Every time I needed a friend,
Joanne was always there. In all this time Joanne had never asked for anything in return...
until today. Unlike Patricia who bullied me at every
turn, Joanne was silently asking
me to grant her wish. It was my decision to make. What should I
do? I knew about Joanne's crush. She had
liked me for a long time, but I had always kept her at arm's length.
Joanne was not Fair Game. However, things were different today.
Still teetering on the edge of the Abyss, I wasn't exactly Fair Game either. Today was a level
playing field. Needing Joanne as much as
she needed me, I felt myself respond to her urgency.
It was unlikely
Patricia would be coming back to me. Hardly. Why on earth
would she return to a loser dance teacher after being in the
presence of a successful man? Besides, I wouldn't
take
her back even if she offered. The way I saw
it, Patricia had relinquished any
claim to me the moment she boarded that plane. At the bare minimum, Patricia's
visit entitled me to a 'one fuck free' card, pardon
my French. If Patricia could have
George, I could have Joanne. No guilt, no apology, no
explanation needed. Do unto others.
I had not been
thinking much about Fate lately. But I thought about
it at this moment. What a coincidence that
Joanne was standing here at the exact time I was at my
weakest point. Right now I wanted to be with Joanne. I needed her company in the worst way.
The only thing stopping me was my
Fair Game rule. Would I honor it or ignore it?
A debate raged in
my mind. Previously I had always resisted acting in these
borderline situations. I could think of two very special women I had
turned away due to
my conscience, Sarah two years ago, Marilyn last summer. So far I had avoided Joanne for the same
reason. I asked myself how vulnerable was Joanne. Could she
handle this?
I was so damn tired of always being the nice guy. Look where
being nice
got me.
Here I was standing in the cold rain while
Patricia was getting screwed silly by her big shot lawyer!
That did it. With my bitterness completely out of
control, today I
would be selfish. I would give into
temptation and throw caution to the wind. I liked Joanne a lot.
She was my friend. Her longing combined with my need for
reassurance made this opportunity very attractive. Plus there was
the delicious thought of evening the score. This was
exactly the chance for revenge I had asked for.
"Joanne,
um, I don't live
that far away and..."
Joanne accepted before I
could complete the sentence. She touched my hand and said, "You
drive, I'll
follow."
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As I drove to my house, I
asked myself over and over if this was the right decision. I had always been so protective of
Joanne. But not
today. However, it wasn't too late. My conscience was really
starting to bother me. When we got to my house, I
stopped Joanne as she got out of her car.
"Listen, Joanne,
I need to explain something. I am having
serious problems with Patricia. We've been arguing over my dance
career again. It looks like we are breaking up,
but I never know with her. She could very well come back in the
picture. I don't want to give you the wrong impression."
"Are you going to invite
me in or not? It's cold out here and I'm soaking wet."
The sex was good.
Very good. Joanne might be a shy girl in public, but she wasn't shy in bed.
Not even remotely. There was a lot
of affection. I had always liked
Joanne, so it was good to finally let my feelings show. But let's face it, this was
not an act of love, this was an act of vengeance towards the
Princess. I
was using Joanne to get even with Patricia. Joanne did not mind at
all. She
was
thrilled at this unexpected turn of events. Nevertheless, I still worried
this had been a mistake. In my mind, this was a one
night stand. If Joanne hoped for more, she was bound to
get hurt. I felt guilty for
exploiting my vulnerable friend, but she asked for it.
Joanne knew my situation well, so she knew exactly what she was getting into. I doubted there was an expectation of romance. We were friends,
she knew that. Was sex between friends really so terrible?
Of course not. Joanne had made
her choice without any sign of regret or hesitation.
In fact, if I had to guess, Joanne knew exactly what she was
doing. If Patricia could use sex as a weapon, then so
could Joanne. This had been her chance to even a score
of her own.
I let out a
bitter laugh. On the night of
the Christmas Party, Joanne had done nothing wrong.
Joanne had a
perfect right to dance with me, but instead she had been unfairly
subjected to hateful stares from Victoria and Patricia.
Well aware that my privileged, pampered, elitist girlfriend had no respect for
her, Joanne wanted payback just like I
did.
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I had never in my life felt so much pure hatred as I did for
Patricia on this day. While I embraced Joanne, anger surged
through me the entire time. The French have
a term for this, 'liaison dangereuse'.
Our
Dangerous Liaison was an act of willful retribution against
a hated tormentor. Taking pleasure in each other's
arms, the symmetry was perfect. We were underdogs who
took
wicked pleasure in retaliation. The satisfaction I
felt was immense and Joanne felt the same way.
"When you start down the road
to revenge, remember to dig two graves..."
-- Chinese proverb
The Year of Living Dangerously
had begun.
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