A few years back, my girlfriend of seven years and I split up. It wasn't anything bad; we just found ourselves going in different directions and came to the mutual decision that we should part company on good terms. On that note, we stay in touch and I do with her family as well, even though they all live about eight hundred miles away. In fact, I still refer to them as my in-laws. Her brother Bobby and I still act like brothers ourselves, calling each other for support when a trusted guy friend is needed. So it was because of the latter that he called me at wit's end one evening, ranting and raving about his own longtime girlfriend, Tiffany.
Tiffany! I never liked her. She was obnoxious to say the least; always interrupting and continuously sarcastic to Bobby and everyone else. She was also prone to tirades and fits of rage, hence her nickname among the family as Tiffany Tantrum. I wasn't the only one who didn't like her either. No one else in the family could stand her attitude, either. Even her own family had told her if he kicked her out, she could not stay with any of them. She would literally have no place to go. Finally, I got a call around nine o'clock one night, as I was finishing a binge watch of a series I had recorded on DVR.
"Hey Brother!" I greeted him, as I saw the caller ID on my phone. "What's up?"
"I can't take her anymore!" Bobby said desperately. "I'm driving around right now, trying to cool off. I'm ready to fucking kill her!"
I certainly understood. My ex wife was the same way. After a particular night of her shit, I got up the next morning and packed all of my stuff while she was at work. When she came home, the house was nearly empty and there was a note on the kitchen table.
"That was smart." I responded. "The last thing you need is for the cops to show up at your house."
"Yeah, I know!" he replied. "Wouldn't look too good for a domestic at another cop's house, would it?"
Bobby had been on the town's police department for nearly eleven years and he was well-respected. While his fellow officers were well aware of Tiffany's outbursts, if a call were made, they would have to answer it and under that state's law, one of them would have to be arrested for domestic violence. While these laws were probably created with the best of intentions in mind for serious cases, they were absolute bullshit when it came to a simple dispute.
"I just can't take it anymore." Bobby repeated. "If I don't get her out of my house, something bad is going to happen."
"Well then, let's figure this out." I said, as I stood up and began pacing up and down the hall. "You've been living together for a long time. Can you kick her out like that, or is she covered under like a renter or something?"
"She never changed the address on her driver's license or voter registration card." Bobby replied. "So technically, she does not live at my house. I can have the local sheriff remove her."
"Good!" I exclaimed. "That's what you need to do then."
"But she has nowhere else to go." Bobby sighed. "As much as I hate her, I can't put her on the street. It's not in my blood. I became a police officer to help people, Jack."
"Then help yourself for once." I admonished him. "Look, nobody will take her in, right? Not her own family; none of her friends?"
"No. They all know what it's like to be around her."
"Then she has two choices." I stated. "Let her pick."
"What's the other one?" Bobby inquired in a puzzled tone. "No one else will take her."
"I will." I said casually.
"What?! Are you out of your mind?"
"Not all." I replied. "Your hands are tied as a cop in a large town. Here, it's a small town and people look the other way over certain things. Remember what you went through in Basic Training?"
"Of course!" my brother-in-law answered. "That fucker was a total prick."
"Exactly." I said with a smile. "And that is exactly what Miss Tiffany Tantrum needs right now."
"She'd never go for it!" Bobby exclaimed. "She can't handle authority."
"And that," I replied, "is one more 'exactly.' I'll break that bitch down until she's in so many pieces that she'll be begging for guidance. And I will be there to give it to her."
"You really think you can control her?" Bobby asked dubiously. "I mean, she's not just a bitch. She's THE bitch, and that's 'Miss Bitch' to everyone else."
"I can handle her." I said confidently. "I'll offer her the deal in front of you and the deputy."
"Frere Jacques, if you want her, you can have her." Bobby stated. "She's all yours."
The next morning, I started the long drive to New York to implement my plan. Tiffany had never been properly disciplined as a child, and had carried her spoiled brat mentality into adulthood. She had never held a job - not that she could anyway - because Bobby had taken her in right out of high school. Ten years later, it was time she had a taste of the real world; with real world consequences that resulted from her actions.
I checked into a motel and called Bobby to let him know I had arrived.
"I stopped by the courthouse this morning and filed the paperwork." he said. "The sheriff happened to be there and we had a long talk. Two deputies will be there at 9:00 AM to evict her."
"I'll be there at a quarter 'til." I replied.
Bobby snorted good naturedly on the other end of the line.
"I love the way you say that down South." he laughed.
"And I suppose you think 'quarter of' is appropriate?" I countered. "A quarter of what?"
"I know. You've made your point." Bobby chortled. "I'll see you in the morning."
I arrived at my brother-in-law's house at 8:45 AM, and knocked on the front door with a shave and a haircut knock, despite the fact there was a perfectly good doorbell button to push. I heard some rustling inside the house and a call of, "I'll get it!" from within. A few seconds later the door opened, and Bobby smiled broadly.
"Hey Brother!" he said exuberantly.
I stepped inside, and we shook hands and hugged.
"Hey yourself!" I burst out, loud enough for Tiffany to overhear. "How the hell have you been?"
I followed Bobby into the living room, and we parked our asses on the sofa.
"Thank God you're here." he whispered. "She's already started her shit. I'm 35 years old and my temples are getting gray! I can't take it anymore."
"It'll be over shortly." I said quietly. "Just hang in there."
About that time, Tiffany entered the room. She looked me up and down and then huffed disapprovingly. She knew I didn't like her, and the feeling was mutual on her end as well.
"What are you doing in my house?" she demanded. "You're not a part of this family anymore. Why do you still come back here?"
I smiled at her as I mulled over in my mind that in five more minutes, neither was she.
"I'm more a part of this family than you will ever be." I replied smugly. "At least my in-laws like me."
"Bullshit!" Tiffany bellowed. "Get out of my house!"
