I cannot believe she came. I ask her if she is on the guest list. It does not really matter because she came with a dj. I flip through the scraps of papers clipped on my board, scanning for an idea of how to respond. I want to tell her to &*(^ off. I want to make her wait outside in the cold while I confirm that she should be there. But I do not want to look at her anymore.
Holding the stamp in my hand, hovering over her wrist, pulling back, moving to stamp it, but always pulling back. I look up.
"I do not want to stamp your hand," I tell her. Her eyes grow Little Mermaid big and her one-sided smile drops. "I do not want to let you in the party. I do not want you to be here." There is no venom in my voice. I speak matter-of-fact. "You owe me a conversation. Not an explanation or an excuse because, frankly, I do not give a shit. But you have owed me a conversation since the conference, since the summer. You and I both know how f*cked up it is that you are here."
I smile at my calm and my honesty. "But I am not going to make a scene. I am going to stamp your hand, and you should get inside quickly before I change my mind."
Her mouth drops open. She starts to say something, but I stamp her hand and turn my back. I smile to her boyfriend, and thank him for playing at the event. He had not heard anything I had said to her.
"Joy," she tries to tap my shoulder and talk to me.
I slowly turn toward her, close my eyes, take a deep breath. "This. Is. NOT. The. Time. For the conversation that you owe me. I think I am behaving very well. Please go inside now."
"I know I...."
I could ask my new friend the security guy to escort her back outside. I wonder if she wants me to pull her hair or slap her. I ignore her and usher more guest list people down the hallway.
She pushes past them, stamps her foot. "Joy!"
I think I am being very very reasonable. I bit my tongue and just yell F*($ YOU! in my head. I do not smile when I look at her.
"I am checking myself into the McDonald Center on Monday. I will be in a much better place to talk to you after that."
"I stamped your hand." I say. I turn my back.
Rehab. I wanted to shoot a smart ass remark back, but I let it go. I let a few other guest list people in, then quietly excused myself, stepped over the rope and walked down the alley behind a 16 wheeler. Pacing. &*%^ her. I cannot believe... I really want to backhand her. My anger shocks me. Deep breathe.
I am shocked she showed up here. I am shocked that she lied three times about sleeping with my ex. I would not have been mad at her for f&*^ing him, hurt, but not mad. (After all, I did dump him over the phone because being with him was not healthy for me.) Especially knowing her, that fact hurts less than the fact that she lied. Three times! ("Oh, friend," she gushed, "We almost... I feel awful because that was wrong, but we stopped because you are a dear friend.") Later, I asked him if something happened, just to see his reaction. His response was, Why? What did she tell you? I told him, SHE said nothing. But you just did. I confronted her that third time, and she still stuck with her "wasn't me" line.
I do NOT get this upset. Deep breathe. Pray for compassion. No reason to act crazy. I am proud of myself for not making a scene. Walk quietly back to the line.
The guys at the door were sweethearts. Did someone piss you off? Who was it? What did they do? Where are they? Should I go get them? One bouncer nodded, I like her, I gave you props already, but now I really like ya. They offered tips and kind words: "If you drag her past that yellow line over there, you won't be on video." "We promise that if we have to break you up, we'll pull her off first." "What do you need, two minutes?" "Is she wearing heels? Because then you should..." I'm grateful they make me laugh.
--
When I share this incident with some friends, one says, "Girl, you're better than that, you don't need to go there."
"Yes, you are better than that," another friend says, "but if I was there I would've had your back."
"That's because you're from Vallejo," I laugh.
when i see her next...