THE BEST REVENGE...IS ONLY A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION!


Really, I am not a vengeful person.  I have always figured it is not worth the effort to sit around planning ways to get back at people for the slights they have inflicted.  This is not due to the fact that I am so saintly, but rather to the fact that I am a guilt magnet.  I’d feel guilty if anything I did hurt somebody - even if they kind of deserved it.  Heck, I’m sure I’d never even be able to serve on a jury, because I’d feel so bad if we went and condemned that nice serial ax murderer to life in prison  - after all everybody makes mistakes.  So I believe it is better in the long run to just let Karma and the Good Lord sort it all out.

But there is one kind of situation that will send me into great thoughts of magnificent and complex schemes for sweet revenge.  That makes me reconsider my opposition to the death penalty.  That makes me wistful for the good old days of lynch mobs and vigilante justice.  That awakens the dormant savage that lurks somewhere deep in the recesses of my domesticated psyche.  And what in the world could invoke such deep and violent a reaction from one who would normally avoid conflict at all costs?  It is one of the most evil and unredeemable of all slime that crawls on this earth.  One of the foulest curses to plague this planet.  Truly evil incarnate......

            Telephone pranksters or perverts.

             I’m sure this, or something similar, has happened to you.  It is the middle of the night.  You’ve just gotten the baby back to bed after a two hour struggle, you are dozing off, when the phone rings. Heart racing, temples pounding, the hair on your neck sticking straight out in feeble reminiscence of its ancient fight or flight response you leap from your bed and snatch the phone from its cradle.  Frantic, you immediately take a head count, thinking, “Somebody’s been in an accident!” or “His dad had a heart attack!” and instead it turns out to be some nasty little demon who wants to know if your Prince Albert can is running, or to tell you your refrigerator is suffocating.  Or worse, wants to know what you are wearing or to tell you how sexy you sound when you are threatening vital parts of his anatomy like that. I don’t know about you, but even after impressing the caller with the colorful range and depth of my vocabulary, slamming down the receiver and pulling the phone out of the wall, I find it difficult to get back to sleep.  Especially since the baby is usually awake again. As I sit rocking in the darkness, lulling my little one back to sleep with the rhythmic grinding of my teeth, I make exquisitely intricate plans for tracking down and torturing these deviants. No simple ‘getting even’ for me.  I prefer the maniacal joy of plotting the ultimate revenge.  Playing out different scenarios in careful detail, I outline in my mind exactly how to drive them to the very brink of insanity.  And, as they writhe in the perfection of my vengeance begging me to turn them in so they can face the consequences of their actions, I feel vilified.  But this is where my fantasies start to break down. I try to visualize how rewarding that moment of denouement will be.  Attempting to get a sense of how triumphant I will feel, I rewind the highlights of my plan in my head as I slip into the nursery to place the baby in his crib.  In a last ditch effort to seem the winner, I stride pridefully back to my own bed.  Snuggling under the covers it occurs to me that during all of this my would-be tormentors are doing one of two things.  They are already peacefully sleeping - blissfully unaware that their little prank had any effect other than a good laugh for them, or they are still making their faceless calls and screaming with hilarity at the reactions they are getting.  Either way, all of my bile and anger are affecting no one but me.  Who’s getting the last laugh after all?  After a bit I’m finally able to doze off, and dream peacefully, (as significant other has been doing through all of this) the incident all but forgotten.  Well, at least until the next day.  But by the end of the week I will hardly think about it anymore.  Probably.    

Okay, so next time I'm gonna wake up sleeping beauty here and let it affect HIM.  


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