So my good friend "L" and I decide to go out to the bar, her one night here in town that she's up here from the south, and on a whim head down to "Outskirts" where BF's friend's girlfriend "T" works. All is well for about 5 minutes. Then I see XH!
This is too funny for us. We are falling apart laughing. "L" would have never recognized him... he looks old and angry now. He's hanging out with some guys at the band's sound board. I run up and tell "T" that my ex is here, point him out to her. She said he's been coming here since before BF and I were dating. "That's your ex?" She shakes her head.
Basically "L" and I are just enjoying ourselves. It doesn't bother me that he's there, he looks over a lot and points me out to people he's talking with. No biggie. We both know how he hates "L". We don't go out of our way, but we avoid him. We go out and dance a few times, and then sit up at the bar to chat with "T".
Invariably we get hit on ... I mean, we ARE a couple of hot young chicks. We are talking with some guy for quite a while up at the bar. He was very nice and bought us drinks even after he found out we were married and/or otherwise very much taken. Of course we know some of the same people, and just BS'd for some time.
After a while we go out and dance again, and I realize XH is no longer at the sound board. (He is friends with a brother of a guy in the band?? Something.) I don't care, I'm having FUN. We remembered some of our moves from a decade ago "party days" and had a great time and a big laugh. After the set, though, we decide it's probably time to get her back to the house she's staying at, other side of town.
We go out to the car, and for the first time in the entire time I've had it, in over a year, with the exception of a few times I've been on fumes, it won't start. Try again. It doesn't start. I have 3/4 tank of gas. I am out of the car and screaming obscenities at no one in particular. I think "yak [censored] eater" slipped out. Didn't name names.
Of course I didn't have to, because by now everyone who knows XH, which seems to be half the bar, knows who I am... and half of the guys in and with the band are outside cooling off between sets, etc. I am 99% positive someone put something in the gas tank. The bands' singer comes over and offers to help. It finally starts after a few more tries, and I shut it off to make sure it starts again the next time, and join "L" who is talking to a guy she and her boyfriend (now husband) used to work with WHO IS ALSO a neighbor and longtime friend of XH's!! The world is too small.
I've calmed down at this point. But the story has really just started.
I recognise XH's car returning to the parking lot, and he goes back in the bar. I'm tempted to follow, but I already told "L" she is now officially in charge of keeping me out of jail, so we stay outside chatting with her acquaintance until the band is getting ready for the next set, and he has to go. We're a mile from BF's house, so I stop by to see if he's home from fishing with the guys, to ask if he'll ride with me up to the other side of town where "L" is staying. His buddies are just leaving, we walk in. I'm ready to start MY story when I see THE LOOK. "What!?" Silence, except for him cracking his knuckles. "You first!!" I say, because he knows I've got a story too.
It seems that during the time of XH's disappearance from the bar, BF got a call on his cell phone. "Is this D?" "Yes." "If you want to catch your old lady in action, get down to Outskirts right now." "What? Who is this." "It doesn't matter. Get down here fast and see what your old lady is up to." Click.
I am shocked even though I should NOT be surprised at the depths one will sink to when one is miserable and the person he loathes most is happy. Of course he had no idea that BF and I know "T", and nothing that happened or didn't that night would be a secret from BF even if I wanted it to be! I tell him about every guy that hits on me, everywhere I go, who I see, what I do ... there is nothing to hide!
I'm trying to think of the best thing to say to XH about this. I'd like to call him up crying, saying that BF "caught" me at the bar and dumped me ... just to give him the feeling of satisfaction that his mission was successful before I YANK that rug out from under him. But I'm not into games, or I'd have called HIM at 2:30 am during loud sex. He has done nothing but make us even closer.
No, I think I'll just pick the kids up as usual Sunday evening, looking very happily still very together with BF. Maybe our daughter will choose this time to again call him "Daddy" when she shrieks and runs to him.
You never can tell with kids. <img border="0" title="" alt="[Smile]" src="images/icons/smile.gif" />
