Many many, many years ago

Many many, many years ago,

Many (many, many) years ago, my wife was working at a women’s health spa while finishing college, owned by a man who kept hitting on her (and all the women working for him), regardless of their marital status or interest. One day he informed her that there was a conference coming up the next weekend at a resort hotel in the Catskills that he wanted her to attend with him - and made it clear that her promotion to assistant manager depended upon her acquiescence.

She turned him down, lost the promotion (and had her life made miserable at work) and started looking for another job, which is another story. Meanwhile, I steamed and stewed all weekend long, knowing that a good friend of hers, from work, wound up taking her place that weekend only because she was in a position where losing her job threatened her children’s well being. She had few options and no savings.

On Tuesday morning, after my wife called me from work complaining about his behavior toward her at work that morning, and upset at the shape her friend was in emotionally following the “conference”, I decided enough was enough…

I called his home number and when his wife answered I said, “Yes… sorry to disturb you today, Mrs. *****. This is Mr. Justice (I actually used that name), assistant manager of the ****** ******* hotel in ****** NY. When you and your husband were here this past weekend, you left behind some… cough, cough, items… of a rather… personal nature, if you get my drift. I was just wondering if you wanted us to box them up - discretely, of course - and send them back to you”.

On Wednesday morning, he called in saying he wouldn’t be making it in. He didn’t finally make it back to work until Friday, and he was living, according to the accounts I got, at a Best Western motel, pending a messy divorce.

Does that count as passive-aggressive? Because it sure as hell was satisfying… >;-}

The mother of a friend had been raised by missionaries to China. She spoke perfect Mandarin, having grown up speaking the language, but was Caucasian and one would have no clue this was the case from looking at her.

She once patronized a laundry service run by Mandarin Chinese speakers. When she came to retrieve her items, she heard one of these business people say to another the Mandarin equivalent of something like, “The old bag has returned for her clothing.”

My friend’s mother did not say a word, but politely accepted her items, thanked them in English, and paid for the service. But just as she was about to walk out the door she spoke, in flawless Mandarin, “The old bag has indeed returned for her clothing.”

According to my friend, the word translated as “indeed” was the precisely correct Mandarin word to put a rude person in their place.

PS: My friend was the grandson, and his mother, the daughter of the famous Canadian missionary Jonathan Goforth. A most appropriate name for a missionary.

My abusive then-spouse decided to leave me, which I didn't mind, but his family was visiting from overseas, having a great time, partying, going on road trips, and inviting him.

They were horrified by his stories of what an American, awful, disobedient wife I was.

He was going to casinos with them, losing all our money.

I was pregnant (high risk, no less), on maternity leave from graduate school so no job, and had another infant at home.

One day he starts packing his $hit, tells me he can't take it anymore, he's leaving.

Fine, except:

• I had no money
• The rent was overdue
• We had impending disconnect notices from the phone and electric companies (there were no cellphones or social media back then, so pregnant and with an infant, I needed that phone, and of course, the electricity)
• He had promised to make payments that payday but instead he was off to another casino
• No groceries, food, diapers, etc.

So. As he's stacking his $hit in a corner of the living room, I tell him I'm going to the lobby to get the mail.

Instead I moved his car. I parked it a few blocks away, went upstairs with the mail, and waited for him to leave. He takes his suitcases, loads them all into the elevator, tells me I brought this on myself, and leaves in a huff.

• A few minutes later the intercom rings: "Do you remember where I parked my car?" No.
• He comes upstairs, all sweating and confused. Calls his brother. "Do you remember where I parked my car?" No. And even if he did, he couldn't read English, so wouldn't have known the street name, anyway.
• Calls the police. They arrive. He talks to them privately. Then they come in to talk to me.
• "We understand there are marital issues. Did you steal his car?"
• I hated being dodgy with the police. I simply stated, No. (I didn't steal it.)
• I told them my side of the story and they became more sympathetic to me. No food, no diapers, no money, pregnant, etc.
• The police told me to apply for WIC assistance, and lectured him.
• They take his report, warn him about his behavior, and leave.

Okay. So his was the car the visiting family was gonna use for their road trip.

So the road trip was canceled. All packed up with no place to go.

I decided to outsmart him. "Honey, since now there's no chance of you winning anything at the casino, maybe we should make the payments you promised the utilities so they won't cut us off."

Since he was stuck there now himself, he gave me the money.

Of course he begged to use my car, but I had never given him a key, and I told him the brakes were shaky and it cost too much to repair them.

For two months this !diot had no car and had to take cabs and buses to work. And the visiting family couldn't rent a car so they went home early.

Meanwhile I had applied for WIC, gotten a social worker, and spoke with the !diot's ultra religious boss who agreed it was best to give me the !diot's salary (he was paid in cash).

He was furious but I was protected by the religious community, and the social worker's home visits helped.

He realized he had to start acting like a human being, so he became much more agreeable to live with, but I wanted him out of my hair.

So one day I told him, "OMG, honey! I was driving around looking for parking, and I think I saw your car!"

We excitedly jump into my car and I drive him there. "Is that it?"

He was thrilled. To this day he thinks he parked it there after partying and couldn't remember.

We're divorced now (can I get a Hallelujah?) and the kids are grown. They know the whole story. But he's serving life now, so we're all estranged from him.