My Friday night would
have been comical had it happened to anyone else. It felt like an evening of
I have a friend
staying with me, who is going through a bit of a nasty divorce. It is amicable
in terms of the paperwork, settlements and suchlike, however it’s far from
amicable if you consider what a total shit he is and how much she’s hurting.
In a nutshell, they
were here from the UK
on holiday when he announced (on the day they were flying back) that he wasn’t
returning with her, and it was over. Subsequently we’ve discovered that he is
(and most likely was then) having a rip roaring affair with the Zimbabwean barlady
at our local pub.
For a bit of history,
he has had affairs before. One time that springs to mind, was when the pair of
them returned home from their anniversary dinner to find his lover waiting on
the doorstep. She then blithely announced that she was there to take him away
because she was in love with him. Now who wants to deal with that on any day,
never mind on your anniversary.I think we can all
safely agree now that this guy (and I do love him dearly) is an utter shit. Not
even taking into account that he’s spent the last four years sitting on his
arse in the pub or on the golf course, with small shopping trips to Paul Smith
scattered in between. Asshole.
I digress. She’s here
for a two week holiday and to attend two job interviews, as she still intends to
move back here. It’s been exceptionally hard having her with me, not because I
don’t love her, but because I always find my friends’ pain hard to deal with as
there’s nothing you can do. It kills me to see her so sad, and feeling so
rejected and defeated.
Well, on Friday we
went to our local pub after work for a quick toot. She proceeded to get very, very
drunk. Drunk and starting to get that beady-eyed belligerent look about her. He
asked me to drop him at home quickly and asked for his bill.
I’m not sure what set
her off, but next thing I know, she grabs the billfold and starts to
ineffectually swat him over the head with it. If I hadn’t been so shocked I
might have found it funny, there was something so Jerry Springeresque about the
whole scenario. I quickly got in the middle, told him to go to the car, her to
calm down for goodness sake, and asked a friend to keep an eye on her.
Drunkenly leaning over
me, she attempts to swat him again. I grabbed the billfold out her hand, at
which point she takes a massive swing at me. I’m not sure if it was my reflexes
or the fact that she was seeing four of me, but she only glanced me on the
cheek. It’s been a long time since anyone hit me. I don’t find it pleasing at
all. For a second I was sorely tempted to smack her back. Only my conviction
that violence is never a solution, and my horror at the thought of being
involved in a bar brawl stopped me.
The rest of the
evening was spent herding her out of danger and preventing her from falling off
the barstool. It was a harrowing evening indeed. Of course she remembered
nothing in the morning and I was quite content to leave it at that. I know she
would never deliberately hurt me. However, her husband insisted on telling her.
I’m now dealing not only with her misery, but with her guilt which is even more
exhausting. Roll on the end of the week.