Revenge Is Sweet
The first time I met her she was drunk, obnoxious and downright vindictive. The first steps to her rehabilitation took place that night, although neither of us dreamed of the consequences of her actions at the time.
I had been in town meeting a few friends; taking in a concert, and afterwards dinner in a Thai restaurant, followed by an hour or two in a club watching a local band blow the cobwebs away. By the time I got back to my car it was about 1am. It was a fine summer night, warm, but with a little breeze keeping things cool.
As I turned into the street where I'd parked my car I could hear, and then see some commotion up ahead. It soon became obvious that there was a party taking place at the house, close to where I'd left the car. Party goers in their late twenties and early thirties were smoking and drinking on the pavement, glasses and cans in hand, while music blared from the open windows and door.
A girl, no, a woman was sitting on the front of my car, and I thought she'd just get off when I opened the car door, so I got in and started the engine. She never moved apart from looking back over her shoulder and insolently sneering at me. She mouthed, 'fuck off,' as clearly as if she'd said it in my ear. I switched off the engine and got out to ask her to move. 'Excuse me please,' I said politely. 'I need to you to get off the car so I can get home.' She looked at me as if I was a dog shit.
'Wasting your time,' she said, her speech slurred. This was going to be difficult I told myself.
'Why am I wasting my time?'
'Cos I'm not fuckin' gettin' off, so you're wasting your fuckin' time.' She smirked to her friends, and seemingly as drunk as her, they laughed and giggled too. A couple of the other girls, who seemed younger than her, joined her in sitting on the front of my car.
'Come on girls, I need to get home,' I pleaded. A couple of male friends joined them, adding an air of menace to the proceedings. 'You're going to damage the bonnet with you all sitting on it,' I protested. They didn't like that, and she rounded on me.
'Are you saying we're fat cunts?' she snarled. 'You cheeky bastard, I'll show you damage,' and as she said it she got to her feet, standing on the bonnet of my car and jumped up and down with just about the highest spike heeled shoes I'd ever seen. Within seconds the paintwork was pock-marked with indentations where her heels punched into the metal, and all the while she screamed abuse at me, calling me every nasty name her drunken brain could conjure up.
I tried to stop her, but she took a vicious kick at me, which was her undoing - she missed, and off balance, she fell from the car, first landing with an almighty thump on the bonnet, making a large dent, before sliding off onto the pavement. By this time her friends had backed off, looking shocked, the guys shaking their heads in disbelief. Despite what she'd done, I went to see if she was OK - I needn't have bothered.
'OK? Of course I'm OK you cunt,' she spat, trying drunkenly to get to her feet. As I turned to leave her, she reached out, whether to use me as the closest support to assist getting to her feet, or deliberately, I'll never know. The end result was that she pulled my trousers down. As I hurriedly pulled them back up, she started laughing, making fun of my underpants, etc. Her friends were laughing too. Furious, I got into my car, but she followed, and spat on me, calling me a fucker. Thoroughly pissed off and humiliated, I said to her very quietly as the car pulled away.
'I'll get you for this. I won't forget your face, and I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget.' She took a step back, looking frightened. Maybe the vehemence in my voice got through the drunken haze, but suddenly she didn't look so cocky although it only lasted for a fleeting moment. I smiled at her, and drove away, but only as far as the end of the street, where, parked out of sight behind a white van, I could keep an eye on the party and wait for my moment.
It came sooner than I expected, for within half an hour she came swaying and lurching down the path of the house, and along the road, away from me. I let her get to the end of the road before I started the engine and followed her from a distance as she turned the corner. In a series of stops and starts I followed her home.