OK so last night sucked. It was fun, up until a certain point. It was intense.
I went out with a good friend from work, another friend who is an old Army buddy of my husband's, my bestie and his boyfriend. And a douchebag. He decided he likes my friend who is the old Army buddy, we'll call her "Lollapalooza." She wants to just be friends, which she'd made perfectly clear. He comes out with us anyway and is one cocky mother fudger the whole night. Interrupting people and talking like he knows everything. Some of the most annoying traits possible. We made it the nights mission to get rid of him, whether it be lose him on the road or leave and go somewhere else without telling him. So Lollapalooza has one too many and my friend from work pairs up with me to try to get her to not drive. After about 30-45 minutes of struggling with her, we give up. I have a strong belief that adults should be in control of themselves and we all live with our choices. So this guy starts calling me a shitty friend, because I'm not forcing her. I told him I am not her mother and have no control over her, and that I tried but I can only do so much. His response? This apparently means that I don't care. I tell him that I do care and he doesn't know me so he should shut up the you-know-what up or get the you-know-what out, that he wasn't wanted there in the first place. Hey, I'm an honest person. He walks away. Point taken. Or so I thought...
Douchebag comes back and sits on the bench at the opposite end of me. I walk over and tell him as nicely but firmly as I could, "Did you misunderstand? You're no longer welcome in this group. I can't make you leave but you need to leave us alone." Something to that effect, there was probably more profanity than that. I do vividly recall being careful with my choice of words. Oh, and I left out the part about him taking advantage of Lollapalooza while she's at the peak of inebriation. Big no-no in my book. His response... "I can buy and sell you and your whole stupid family, you fat ass whore." Ummm... excuse me? Now let's pause the story for a second- what does having money have to do with this?? Alright, you've got money... random, but ok. Good for you, do you want a scooby snack? None of us that were there could wrap our heads around this, during or after. But anywho... he called me a bad name. One I don't take to hearing very well. I slapped him. Yeah, I'd been dealing with him for about 6 hours at this point against my will, so it was overdue. My bestie and his boyfriend pop up just in time to hold me back. I'm not able to do anything to him at this point, but for some reason he decides to take it a step further anyway. He hits me in the throat. Yeah... for those of you who haven't noticed, I am a girl. I can take a hit, but I shouldn't have to. Hitting this guy was a first for me, and I did go through my options in my head. He deserved it. Period. The security guards get involved and after some serious he-said, she-said, he is escorted out. I wish I could say the story stops here.
We leave about 30 minutes later and when I get to my car, I get the urge to check it. Good thing I did. The bastard had keyed my trunk. I love my car, you don't mess with the Cap'n. How do I know it was him? I put my purse in my trunk when I go out, this night was no exception. It wasn't there earlier and it'd be a huge coincidence if the one night I have a major altercation, my car gets keyed by some random stranger. He also knew what kind of car I drove because everyone had followed me there and we all parked in a row. Not a hard thing to figure out. I filed a police report, which I am well aware, is a dead end. But I did in anyway, and the physical assault part of it is in there. Again, dead end. But I felt better.
Here's where the funny shit started happening. While I'm on hold with the PD about my report, my work friend is standing next to me. She left her keys in the car and the door open. We see this guy walk over to her car, get in and shut the door. Not believing what we're seeing, we run over and open the door. Leave it to me, while I'm feeling mouthy, to tell him to get the you-know-what out of the car. He looks at me and throws his hands up like I'm crazy. He has her phone in his hand, just making his drunk ass at home. Oh. My. God. After my apparently-necessary explanation that this car was not his, he gets out, walks about 40 feet away, turns around, and starts yelling at me calling me a bitch. I was super popular last night, that's for sure.
A few things I want to make note of. First, should I have slapped this guy? Most probably not. It wasn't a good decision, I'll admit that. Did he deserve it? Absolutely. Men need to learn that you don't talk to women that way, no matter how much of a bitch she is. I'm good at that, I know this about myself. But again, I won't whip out that part of my personality if it isn't deserved. Second, was I right about backing off of my friend to let her drive drunk? We've all been in this position and I can't say I was right, but I can honestly say that I did what I could. I loves me some Lollapalooza, but she's one tough girl and I wasn't about to get into a wrestling fight with her for her keys. She'd have won. She was in the Army, for Christ's sake! She was trained to beat me, and why fight a losing battle? We've learned for next time. I have enough people close to me who have had DUI's to know that you cannot force an adult to do anything. It is their choice. After over a half an hour of trying to reason with an intoxicated friend, anyone would give up. I did the very best I could with what I had. Anyone who criticizes my choices for how I handled this evening needs to ask themselves... would you have been able to do any differently?
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