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The retarded plan...

I had only had the mental wind knocked out of me like that on a few occasions in the past. It took me the whole next day to think about this horrible new development and decide that firstly I needed to find out the truth without blowing my hand. If it was all a misunderstanding or an inside joke, great. If not, I didn't want her to know that I knew she was dicking me around. That was essential.

So the first thing I did was send her a Facebook friend request, like I had planned to do from the beginning. I thought that she'd either remove her confusing relationship status and the reply to her friend about Will being her boyfriend, and then accept me as a friend, or not accept me and say something like, "Oh, I just use Facebook for my female friends. You wouldn't want to see what we write to each other all the time. Too girly for you." Then I'd know. Her choice would show me the truth. She'd either abandon Will, or deny me entry, thereby hiding something, which would verify my fears. Though I was positive I wouldn't take her if I had "won" her, I still wanted to be the one to beat her to the break-up first. Then I stupidly sent my request.

"Stupidly" because if she did accept me, she probably wouldn't remember to delete her status or remove that message about Will. Don't forget, she's so computer illiterate that she left her Facebook account (with tons of her personal info in it) open to the public, and she works with troubled and druggie teenagers! That's just asking for trouble. Shit! Now I'd have to pretend that I didn't see that info if she accepted me and left that incriminating evidence up. Dammit! That was okay though. If she forgot about posting it, she wouldn't think that I would find it, of that I was sure. Okay, saved by stupidity. I'd take it.

The next part of my plan would take a meticulously prepared foundation to actually work properly though, but my Epic Revenge Project (or as I childishly labeled it, "ERP") was coming together in my mind beautifully! If indeed her Facebook info wasn't a mistake in any way, I would get to enact perhaps the greatest bit of revenge that I had ever, or would ever be given the chance to put into motion! Yes, it's insanely retarded and pathetically lame, but that's where my mind goes when it's wounded. Bear with me for a bit longer.

ERP Phase 1: Get Lisa to agree to one more date. Preferably on Valentine's Day itself. I planned to call her up the following Monday and propose the date (which would have been two weeks in advance). She would surely argue against it, what with wanting to be with her real boyfriend on that big day, but I would fight for it with some heavy ammo of my own like, "I haven't had a date ON Valentine's Day itself in about 10 years, and what with me working 7 days a week for the past month, and you with all your stress, we owe it to ourselves. And plus, it'll be our 4-month anniversary. I insist. You deserve it. I really want to go out then." My backup was going to be the Friday or Saturday before V-Day.

Phase 2: I was to use my fake hot-girl Facebook profile to hook Will H**** into some awesomely hilarious and awkward texting shenanigans (after first scouting his profile for any more evidence against Lisa's unfaithfulness). Yes, I have a fake hot-girl Facebook profile. Everybody should have one. I even have her account populated with lots of friends (mainly from losers who try to get over 1,000 "friends" to prove some who-knows what point about their pathetic lives, who don't care if they know you or not if you're willing to be their virtual buddy) to make her even more believable. But before that I dove into Will's Facebook page and saw that he had a lot of info open for the general public to read as well. What I was looking for though was right there for all to see: the name of his high school (a rinky-dink piece of shit school in a tiny town in New Mexico), and the fact that he apparently had a recent divorce with his fairly cute ex-wife.

I then planned to change my hot-girl's high school and college listings, and send Will a friend request along the lines of "Playa Rosa High School Rulz! Hey, I don't know if you remember me, but I was a couple of years behind you, and always thought you were awesome! Friend me! ;)" This would wait until after I talked to Lisa and found out if I still had any misgivings about her relationship with the guy.

After reading his Facebook profile though, I must admit that I was already having some misgivings about my ERP. This Will looked and sounded decent enough. He loved his boy from his first marriage, and seemed to have a lot of really good friends and a great family... But fuck! I had to bring Lisa down, I thought. He would have to be a sacrifice!

Phase 3: I was going to meet Lisa at the very expensive steakhouse at the posh outdoor mall in town, wine her, dine her, and then I would excuse myself to "get a present that I left for her in my car." As I would get up I would leave an envelope on the table, then I would find our waitress, hand her a fiver and tell her that the day before was my girlfriend's birthday and I forgot! Even though it was a rush job, could she do me a huge favor? "I'm going out to my car to get a big birthday/Valentine's Day gift for my lady, and I'm going to call her on her cell phone," I would tell the waitress (her name was going to be Cindy). "As soon as she hangs up can you bring the birthday cake out and sing to her?" Cindy would wink and tell me no problem, then rush for the kitchen.

I would proceed to walk just outside the restaurant and dial up Lisa's number. Then I would tell her that I left a surprise for her, and that she needs to open the envelope right now and read it. Inside a cutesy Hallmark Valentine's Day card (featuring teddy bears and hearts) would be a long typed-up letter. I would tell her to read it. This is what it would say:

My Dear Lisa,

You are the perfect woman for me, the one whom I have been searching for my whole life. I didn't think you existed until I met you, and now I know that you are not real. Despite the fact that you were deeply hurt by your ex-husband's betrayal and his fucking that "whore," what you did to me (and to your dear Will H****) was just as atrocious, if not more so. Your ex was just fucking that woman, but you fucked with our minds and hearts. That's low, honey.

Oh yes, I know all about Will. I know more about him than you probably do. For example, did you know that he jumps at the chance to meet up with hot chicks who vaguely claim to have gone to the same high school as him, and who want to do the naked mambo with him when they come to town on business? My friend on Facebook changed her high school information and threw that offer at him, and when she bailed on him the day before their would-be meeting, he called her a "dirty, lying, fucking whore." Tsk, tsk, does he kiss you with that mouth? Horrible. Also, he seems to have a very dirty mind when it comes to used panties. He needs some of that therapy you're so good at.

All those messages between him and my friend should still be on his Facebook message center, but I'd get over to his computer quickly 'cause I'm going to send him a message myself telling him all about the two of us as soon as I get home. Yeah, he tried to cheat on you with my friend, but you DID cheat on him with me. He deserves the heads up.

What you did was very reprehensible. If it had simply been one or two dates where you saw both of us at the same time, and then chose one over the other, hey, I'd have had no issue with that. But four months of hiding one from the other? And for what? Were you really that needy when it comes to emotional support? Were those issues at your job even real? Do you even have any actual physical problems due to stress? See? I can't trust anything you've ever told me. Everything could be a lie. You were so good at hiding the big one.

But anyway, Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you learned a valuable lesson, but mostly I hope you brought your credit card.

Love,

Me

Then I would hang up, and from outside the restaurant I would watch Cindy bring over all her coworkers to sing the Happy Birthday song and drop off a cake for Lisa, who would then have to pay the bill for the giant tab by herself.

 

But then shit got real... Well, actually SURreal.

That was the original ERP I had designed and hoped to put into motion in my unhinged state (which even in hindsight sounds quite impressive), but shit started to fall apart very quickly before I even got close to Phase 1.

For starters, Will's ex was still his Facebook pal, and made him out to be a decent guy. I turned that kink around though by making myself believe that if I continued on this revenge fantasy I'd be saving his bacon from Lisa too! So now it was doubly important to make the coont pay!

Then I got a call from Lisa that Monday night after all this started. I played things very cool; I asked her how the weekend went, though I tried to subtly trip her up and reveal her actual plans. I'd say things like, "So, did you three have a good weekend at the farm?" She'd reply with "Yeah, it was soooo relaxing and, wait, what? Umm, I, no! Um, who? Three? What do you mean?" Then I'd innocently say, "Wellllllllll, you, your daughter, and it was your grandfather's farm, wasn't it? I thought he went too."

I was having a blast, she was starting to get a little flustered, but then she dropped a bomb on me. "Well, the weekend was great, but at work today I was let go."

"WHAT?!" I replied. "They fired you?!"

"Well," Lisa continued, "they gave me the chance to get fired or leave on my own. My last day is Wednesday."

I was a little confused by this turn, but I continued. "Wait, what? How long are they giving you? What? Wednesday? That's.... odd."

She cut me off with the following mega-ton blast, "Yeah, then my doctor called me and said that my cancer came back."

................................ I think all I could muster was a "Fuck me... Wait, you had cancer?! What kind?"

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter," she said, in a very monotone voice. A little too stable for what had just occurred to her a few scant hours previous. "Yeah, but I'm going in to get operated on on Thursday... They're not sure how much is in there and so... Yeah."

"Doesn't matter what kind? I, well, what hospital are you having the surgery at?" I asked, actually regretting that I was starting to get a little concerned over this whore again.

"What hospital? Why?!" she barked. Seriously, she pretty much *yelp*ed that at me. "What does... Why do you want to know? It doesn't matter. It's, no, why do you care?"

I was a bit confused, but answered honestly. "I thought I'd send some flowers or a gift. Christ, that's just horrible news."

"Hmmmmmm...... Well, don't bother," she said. "It's an out-patient procedure, so I won't be staying."

My BATSHIT CRAZY RADAR was whooping like I was at Defcon 5 by this point. "Okaaaaay. So you're telling me that you're going in for a major operation to remove some cancer patches... And on top of that the surgeon's going to have to perform some exploratory surgery to see if there's any more... And you'll be out and driving yourself home in what, 2 hours you think?"

"Well, it's all because of insurance nowadays," she vaguely answered. Then, even though I was really thrown for a loop, I tried to comfort her for another hour on the phone... But as soon as I hung up I realized just how utterly BONKERS the whole call had been. She wasn't truly upset by any of the shit that she had just told me about, she never once mentioned the muscle headaches or nosebleeding that had plagued her for so long (which if they continued at the pace they were going to that day they probably would have multiplied by 10 and made her skull explode), she refused to tell me what kind of cancer it was or which hospital she was going to, and all in all the whole sense of who she was had completely unraveled for me. I couldn't picture the tall, hot Lisa anymore... All I could see was Glenn Close coming at me with a giant fucking kitchen knife in one hand, and a dead bunny in the other!

Just like Sherlock Holmes always said: "If you eliminate the impossible, whatever's left, no matter how improbable, is your answer." Lisa lied to me about this boyfriend and her lack of free time, and so I was willing to bet a round of drinks at the Seawench Pub (when the Skipper and Chi-Chi are there drinking) that at least 90% of her job hardships and 100% of all her health "issues" were absolutely bogus too. Did her husband even leave her for a fit, hot Asian, or because Lisa was nucking futs? Though my biggest concern was for the safety of her daughter. Was Lee like that fucked-up mom in The 6th Sense who poisoned her daughter a little every day to get sympathy from the neighbors? Or was she just lying about her daughter's problems and hospital visits? Shit!

I couldn't figure out what to do. My EPIC plan meant that I'd have to see her one more time, and Christ on the shitter, I found I didn't want to ever have to do that again. So I just drank myself into oblivion that night and tried to get some sleep and a clear head. It didn't work.

The next day I was completely mentally fucked up. I still wanted to mess with this chick in some EPIC way, but then I talked to Tammi with an "i". She told me to just ask Lisa like an adult about this Will guy, and stop being such a faggot with my "plans" and revenge and shit. So I nicely texted Lee one more letter saying "Hey, I have a question for you: Who's your 'wonderful boyfriend Will H****'?" That was Tuesday, February 2nd. I haven't heard back from her yet (as of this writing, which is 12 days later). Oh, and neither Lisa's Facebook page, nor her bf's ever mentioned anything about her getting fired, having crippling muscle headaches, or having cancer. She's seriously going off the rails on a crazy train.

I didn't want to fuck with this Will guy, he didn't deserve it. But on the flip side I didn't want to let him get sucked into this crazy bitch's web of fucked-upness either. I had only found out how insane she was by accident, maybe he wouldn't uncover it until it was too late? You know what, Fuck 'im. Fuck them both. They're both adults, they'll work it out (or she'll stab him with an ice pick one night while he's riding her like a clown riding a unicycle, and then she'll eat his head with a side of fava beans).

Final thought here... I wonder if she really did work as a psychiatrist at a place that helps messed up kids, or if she was just a client. I would have thought they'd screen their people better...

There was really no point to this entire article other than women are the goddamn devil. Lisa never did "friend" me on Facebook, so she's probably wondering just how I figured everything out. For all I know she thinks I'm a stalker of Edward Cullen-magnitude. I am a douchebag like Eddie, but I don't sparkle. And you know what, FUCK lying whores. Fuck them to hell. I'm going to the titty bar now. Peace!

02/14/2011

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