The Confrontation

Sunday was Easter. I know a couple who has a brunch every year on Easter Sunday that normally I would attend. This year I was considering going and was reminded that it was VERY likely that the whore my ex boyfriend was cheating on me with before we broke up would be in attendance as well. Well that put the kabash on me going to Easter Brunch. While the prospect of getting hammered on mimosas, making a scene, throwing booze on someone and storming out cursing everyone in my way sounds delightful at first and while I would love the opportunity to rip that ugly bitch up by her gray wig, I decided that I was going to be a lady. It was the Lord's day after all. So I met up with some friends who were not attending this brunch as well as some who did who joined us later. We were having nice cocktails on the beautiful day outside of a bar on a patio right on the runway of 17th street. Lo and behold, several hours into the drinking and with my head swimming, here comes the crew from the brunch, whore in tow. I spun around in my chair to put my back to them and pretended not to see them and refused to speak as they stopped and said hello. The ugly whore stayed a bit behind everyone, probably in fear that she would get her ass beat if she got within an arm reach of Carrie. With my back turned, I commented quite loudly to a friend how ugly whores who screw around with other peoples' boyfriends are destined for ruin. I doubt the whore heard me, but I certainly felt better. Normally I would never act so bitter or upset. But I had had a few.

Really only my friends at the table knew how upset I was. Seeing this person just makes my skin crawl. It is humiliating. Everyone knowing that my boyfriend of two years slept around behind my back with that piece of trash. Feeling like somehow its a reflection of me and my character that I couldn't keep my man happy enough that he would do that. And with someone I know. I rehearsed what the moment would be like in my head a hundred times. Would I speak when I saw him? Would I be nice and kill him with kindness? Would I throw a cocktail on him? No, of course not, Carrie wouldn't waste a delicious cocktail on such trash. I might throw the empty glass at him though. But I did none of these things. I simply ignored him. And then told everyone how fucking ugly and nasty he was when he walked away. I think in a situation like this, its the best one could hope for from me.

Even after months and months, its amazing how much things can still hurt. It also hurts to know my friends will be civil to this person. I cannot ask them to be anything but civil, but to know how hurt one of your best friends was because of this person and still be able to speak sort of amazes me. Nearly all of them attended this brunch, knowing I would not go because he would be there. I'm sure they all were cordial and spoke. And maybe I should expect nothing more than that. But for me, if my best friend was hurt by someone I had no obligation to, you can bet I would not speak. And if I spoke, you can bet this person would get an earful. I just feel like true friends should be willing to be coldshoulder someone who deliberately hurt their friend. You can bet Miranda wouldn't speak to a man who had vexed any of her best gals. Only one friend amongst the group, who surprisingly is not one who I am as close to as some of the others, said he wouldn't speak to this person and is lucky he doesn't beat his ass right in the street. This is the same friend who refused to even speak to my ex. While it might not be necessary, it makes you feel better to know that someone has your back.

In any case, this only accelerated my evening of drunken insanity. I basically got hammered and wandered home around 11pm. Needless to say, yesterday was a Mental Health Day from work and I stayed home and finished my taxes. And please, no lip on waiting til the last minute to do my taxes. I know I waited too long. But they are done and Carrie will be anxiously awaiting her suprisingly large refund. I see new shoes in my future.