Everyday Stranger

The Aftermath

Believe it or not, I had another funny, light-hearted post lined up for today, the same post that should have been posted on Monday about the strange happenings between men and women.

Then my life went to hell in a handbasket, and it has been postponed. Again.

All this, and my blog not only passed the 10,000 mark on site meter, but I achieved over 500 hits yesterday. I am not sure if it is my sex posts or more like "let's go view the nut in the nuthouse", but whatever it is, I appreciate it.

My Volvo-Man saga continues and has, in fact, gotten worse.

As you know, we had an accident on Monday which was not my fault but which the impotent bastard painted as my fault. I dismissed it from my mind, as much as I could, but I confess it still really burned me up, badly. When Partner Unit and I went to lunch yesterday, we tried to discuss it.

"I'm so angry about it, still." I said, eating my lesbian-er, Lebanese-food slowly.
"I know, but there's nothing you can do about it now." he replied.
"Still, if I ever see him, I'm going to kill him."
"No, you're not, honey."
"Oh yes I am."
"No you're not."
"Really, it's for the best of mankind that I do."
"If you see him again, remain calm, and we will call the police."
"Why? So that they can come and mock me again?"
"Because that is how things are done here."
"Well, I prefer things my way. If I seem him, I'm going to go after him."

I should be a fortune teller.

I went to my boxing class as usual. Best Friend couldn't go with me tonight, since he was busy with wife and child duties. So I went alone and partnered with a scary chick named Sara. As we neared the end of the workout, I was beginning to feel good. I was doing uppercuts, which I am very good at, and sweating like mad. I looked up, across the gym, and saw a man sitting on a bench tying his shoes.

My heart stopped. It was him. I knew it.

I dropped my pads and turned to Sara. "I'll be right back." I said, sprinting off, leaving her looking confused.

I walked up to him. "Excuse me, but do you drive a Volvo?" I asked nicely.
He looked at me and smiled. "Yes I do." he replied. Then something happened to his face as he realized it was me. "It's you, you fucking bitch!" he said.

"Yes, it's me. What's your name?" I demanded coldly.
"Fuck you!" he snarled.
"No thanks. What's your fucking name?" I demanded again.

A gym staff person, walking by, hurried up to us. "What's the problem?" she demanded.
He turned to her and started sneering, and told her, in Swedish, that I had caused a car accident, was crazy, and so on. That's when I realized what I had to do.

I looked at him. "If you ever come near me again, I will make you pay. Do you understand me?" I asked.
He looked at me "You're fucking crazy."
"You're going to pay for making me look like a liar. Just remember that."
"Fuck you!" he screamed.

So, we didn't really have a screaming match, more like "harsh words". Which was enough, trust me.

I ran up the stairs and used the phone to call Partner Unit and the gym called security. Both dashed to the gym to meet me. Volvo-Man walked upstairs and left the gym. I waited at the desk for security. Then, weirdly enough, Volvo-Man walked back in and stood there, staring at me. And he walked and positioned himself by one of the exits of the gym.

I took off running for the other exit, abandoning all my clothes and gear in the gym, and ran into the building where I work. I logged on, called all appropriate parties, and entered that blog from yesterday. I am still a mess, really shaky and scared.

But here's where it all gets interesting and my world falls apart.

Security is working on banning him from the gym, and due to the fact that I felt threatened, scared, and in danger, I can most likely file police charges against him.

Ooooh...and boy, am I going to. I have to be honest here-it is now my personal mission to make his life as difficult as possible. Were he not in Company X, you bet your ass I would've posted his name and phone number. Am I going to lost karma points for revenge? Probably. Do I care anymore? Nope.

He and his manager are getting phone calls today from security. I am likely going to tell my manager what happened, just to be on the above-board about it. I have nothing left to lose. 12 more days to Judgement Day.

I know his name now, and his car license number. I also know where he works, and it is in an entirely different division from me, so I am not scared of him interfacing me at work. Here's the really interesting bit: since I have his license, I checked it online. His car came up as "kör förbud", which means "forbidden to drive". In other words, it didn't pass inspection and is not even allowed to be on the road. If the police man had remotely been doing his fucking job and just run this guys plate, the whole incident of the accident would have been pointless-Volvo-Man would've been busted for driving a kör förbud car.

The further interesting bit: he is a consultant, working with Company X. Bad news is with the PC helpdesk, so I worry about my pc and internet/Outlook access. But I am now launching a campaign to get his contract terminated. I figure it's the least I can do. Especially since from now on I am to have a security escort anytime I work out at the gym.

Fuck with my peace of mind, and I will make you pay.

When we got home, Partner Unit wanted me to talk about my feelings. I didn't want to. He persisted. I didn't want to. He kept digging. Finally, I erupted.

And it was horrible. I was ranting and crying, not at Partner Unit, but how I had been treated. What had happened. The fact that it was so incredibly unfair and due, in a large part, to the fact that I didn't take the conversation in Swedish.

Partner Unit suddenly blew up. Screaming in my face about how I obviously blame him for everything, that he is not enough of a man to fix everything. I was totally confused. What was he talking about? I'd never said any such thing. I was just angry that the car accident stuff had ever happened. Partner Unit slammed his fist into a wall, and stormed away. I ran upstairs. He followed. The anger continued, and he did a few things he is not proud of.

Finally, little Helen burst.

"I'm sorry you feel I was accusing you, but in no way did I do that!" I said. "This is what my feelings look like. You wanted me to tell you how I felt, and this is it. What I feel inside of me is raw, unsophisticated, and messy. It comes from never telling people how I feel. EVER! You asked how I felt. You got it. It was a mistake on both of our parts."

He looked at me and immediately calmed down. "Oh God, H. I'm sorry." he said.

By then I was crying beyond belief. "Don't worry about it. I told you my feelings. I won't make that mistake again."

And we are now politely civil, but some big metal trap door in my heart swung shut last night. I know now, more than ever, that Partner Unit and I are not going to be together much longer.

My relationship hangs in tatters. I have a scary Volvo-Man making my life very difficult. I may lose my job in 12 days. I'm not entirely sure, but I think that things are at an all-time low. And I am really, really sorry that this post is such a downer.

Funny post tomorrow, barring any Volvo-Man stupidity.

-H.

PS-I (breath deep, Helen) entered Guiness's writing contest. A short bit of work of mine is posted there, so take a look and rant away. It's the one entitled "Starting Over".

Posted by Everydaystranger at November 5, 2003 09:22 AM | TrackBack