I was sitting here, trying to figure out what to blog about, running out of time. Searching deep, needing a topic.
Then the phone rang. At first, all I heard was heavy breathing, and I had it down for one of “those” calls. I should have hung up, but you know, some of “those” calls can be inspiration for my novels, and maybe even a blog, so I held on and waited. Then I heard her.
“He’s here.”
I recognized the voice of one of my girlfriends. (She will remain anonymous to protect the guilty.)
“Who’s there?” I asked her.
“You know who.” There was total contempt in her voice and I knew immediately who she meant. Girlfriends just know those kind of things.
Yeah, she meant her ex. “Where are you?” I said.
“Grocery store. What do I do?” Panic echoed in her voice. She hadn’t seen him over a year, but as you can guess, the memories were still fresh. Still painful.
I thought quickly. “Go to the Kotex/tampon aisle. He’ll never go down that aisle.”
“Good idea,” she muttered and I heard her on the move. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I heard her saying and then she said, “Oh, gawd. I nearly ran over a little old lady buying cat food.”
“Take some deep breaths,” I told her. “You can’t kill someone’s grandma. Especially one that loves cats.”
Still whispering, she asked, “How did he get out?”
In case you are wondering, she didn’t mean prison. She meant the compost pile. It’s where we, my friends and I, mentally bury people when they tick us off. (Hey, when you have a good imagination, visualizing this stuff makes you feel better. You might be surprised who is in my compost pile.)
“I don’t know,” I told her. “He might have slipped out when I buried the Weight Watchers attendant.”
She chuckled and then I heard her inhale deeply. “Why am I so afraid to see him?”
I knew why. It had everything to do with her having her heart broken and about the scumbag cheating on her. But she didn’t want to hear that, not right then, so I dug a little deeper. “Probably because you’re afraid he figured out who left the fish in the trunk of his car.”
When in doubt, I always use humor. And that whole fish thing had been really funny.
“They were sardines,” she said and laughed. “And he deserved it.”
“I know.” I laughed with her. “I personally thought it was very inventive.”
“You should,” she said sarcastically. “It was your idea.”
We both laughed again. But in all honesty, I never thought she’d do it. Of course, of all the ideas I gave her, that was the one least likely to land her in jail. Which is probably why my hubby swears he’ll never cheat on me.
Fifteen minutes later, she was reading tampon and Kotex boxes to me and we were laughing about the craziest girl kind of stuff.
“You know,” I said, finally stating the obvious, “I realize you feel safe, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to leave the women’s protection aisle.” Sooner or later, she was going to move past the anger, the hurt, and get on with her life. But I’d been there a long time ago, with hubby one, and I knew sometimes it just took time.
“What if he’s still there?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said, “Just leave your groceries and sneak out the door.”
“I can’t.”
“Because you don’t have makeup on and are afraid he’ll see you?” I asked.
“No! Because I’m out of coffee.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “So you’d rather run into him than run out of coffee?”
“You know what I’m like without caffeine,” she insisted and laughed.
I realized then that she might be moving past heartbreak better than I thought.
I stayed on the phone with her until she got out of the grocery store, her coffee in tow, and my blog still unwritten.
Before she hung up, I got the idea and I asked her, “Can I blog about this?”
She said it was okay, as long I didn’t deny that the sardines were my idea and I didn’t use her name. So there you have it—my crazy blog about girlfriends helping girlfriends, about broken hearts, about the need to move on and how hard it can be to do it. About how important coffee is and about how badly a few sardines hidden in a trunk of a car can smell and how hard they can be to find, especially if you hide them under the carpet where the spare tire is kept.
So, what about you, got any girlfriend stories to share? Moving on stories?
Crime Scene Christie
36 comments:
Oh Christie, I LOVED this story!!!! Great girlfriends are such a blessing and I want you as one of mine. :)
And now I know exactly where you get your dialogue.
Very funny, Christi!!!!
Thanks Jana!
I thought of you when I decided to write this. You and my anonymous friend are in the same place. Heck, I've been there, as have a lot of women.
Hang in there!
Crime Scene Christie
From one Christie to another that was an awesome girlfriend story! I mean, seriously, if you can't let your best friend read you the back panel of a Kotex box for 20 minutes then you just aren't girlfriends. LOL
A couple of years ago, my best girlfriend went through a nasty divorce. Blindsided by her scumbag of an ex. He walked out the door one morning and never came back. Called her on the phone a month later to say he'd moved on and he wanted the Lake condo. She refused. The divorce got nasty and ultimately, she lost the condo in the divorce settlement.
Now, my girlfriend and I had spent a lot of time on this condo. She's pretty particular on her decorating and there were weekends upon weekends where we were just down there painting and knocking out walls and sheetrocking. Painstakingly this condo was her project, her baby. The first place she'd ever owned. So one night over drinks, Ang and I had a lightblulb moment. We grinned at each other like Cheshire cats.
It was a well executed thought process, the colors we chose. We marched right into the Sherman Williams and requested that we get paint colors that are almost nearly impossible to paint over without a major headache. After many bottles of booze, Ang bawling her eyes out and me thinking of evil ways to ditch his body in the bottom of the Lake, we had transformed the condo into something only your kooky Great Aunt Betty would want to live in.
I hope he liked the Pepto Bismol room. That was my favorite. I hear the new love in his life didn't.
What a shame.
Great blog, Christie!
Christie
Thanks Tess! If a woman hasn't been there, she knows someone who has.
Thanks for posting.
Crime Scene Christie
LOL, Christie! I'm remembering the sardine trick... and the idea of hiding out in (where else) the women's protection aisle.
Sin,
LOL! What a great story!!!!
Love it.
Thanks for sharing.
Crime Scene Christie
Hi Colleen.
Thanks for stopping by.
Us girls gotta stick together. And the tampon asile is always safe.
Crime Scene Christie
Oh, I was there a decade ago. And yep, my best girl buds kept me from doing the ex bodily harm. Of course the rat deserved it ~ wish I'd though of the sardines! Now and again, I get reports from my daughter. The most recent: He's Preaching in Prison. Maybe I'll write a country song. ;-)
That preaching comment was not supposed to be anonymous. I need more Coke Zero - maybe an IV
Vicky,
LOL! Thanks for stopping by and sharing. Preaching in prison, huh? Yup, that's gotta be a C&W song!!
Crime Scene Christie
Thanks, Christie. Both for the hand holding in the tampon aisle and for making me laugh about it later. You're the best!
I love this blog and I can proudly say BEEN THERE, DONE THAT. Though I didn't think of that sardines thing. Dang, that would have felt good.
It took almost exactly one year and I can remember the second I knew. The second something turned on (or off?) and I've never cared one ounce about him since. We have a child together so I have to see him (for at least 10 more years - yes, I'm counting) and other than the extreme headaches I tend to get when I know a meeting is coming, I'm good.
I've had friends who have gone through this since and it's never easy to watch. All you can do is promise them there is a light at the end. There's hell between here and the light but it's there.
Anonymous,
Thanks for letting me write about it. If the tables were turned, you'd be there for me.
Lov ya, girl.
CC
Hi Terrio!
Ugg. It's a shame so many of us know this pain. But you are so right. We can survive.
And there's even a few decent men/heroes out there.
Thanks for sharing.
Oh, did you get your T-shirt, yet?
Crime Scene Christie
Okay, I'm suddenly feeling better about my love life. At least at the end of a bad date I don't lose a condo. Ouch! Love the painting idea, though! You are so bad, Sin.
~Gemma
Christie - no shirt yet but I didn't get my mail yesterday. We were getting tornadoes and I didn't feel like running through the rain to the mailboxes. LOL! We're fine and I'll be sure to check the box today.
Gemma - you don't know the half of it. LOL! We don't consider her our monkey-ninja pirate wench for nothing.
Gemma,
Your love life keeps us entertained.
Keep those blogs coming.
Crime Scene Christie
Terrio,
Well, duh, my shirt isn't worth risking your life for and taking on a tornado? (smile)
Stay safe girl.
Crime Scene Christie
ROFL! Love the sardines and painting ideas!!!
Tori,
Thanks for stopping by.
I agree, the painting story is a hoot. Can you imagine the ex walking into the house for the first time. Wouldn't you just love to have been a fly on the wall?
Crime Scene Christie
OMG that is too funny. Fortunately my office door is closed but I'll probably get asked about what was so funny when I open it back up. And I have to say, we live close enough, we've GOT to spend some time together girl because you're just too priceless not to. :)
As for stories to share...when my ex-husband and I separated he left all the utilities (which were in his name) with me. When I moved out of the house we'd shared, I set up my own phone and utilities - in my maiden name, since I was planning on taking it back anyway - and just left the other ones hanging out there, with no forwarding address or anything. Well, the ex started doing something stupid (I don't recall specifically what - there was so much) so I started calling the phone and utility companies saying "My husband and I recently moved and we never got our final bill." Of course they'd acknowledge that we had an outstanding balance so I would say, oh so innocently "Oh, well let me give you our forwarding address." And then I would give them HIS address. He called me a couple of times all confused how the utilty companies were finding him. I acted all innocent as if I didn't know anything and I never ever told him how they found him. *big cheesy grin*
That was the best story. I loved the sardines. What's that saying about a woman scorned? Men come and go but good girlfriends are forever.
Yeah, we hear he tried to paint over it. It's too bad we didn't know what we were doing and swirled the paint onto the walls...
Not to mention the splattering. That was an *unfortunate* accident. Another instance where we didn't know what we were doing. Oops.
Would've loved to been there but we were too busy cackling like hyenas over margaritas. Wish we would've thought of the sardines. I had more murderous thoughts at the time and she was too devestated to think clearly. Very sad. We lost our opportunity to make him miserable. Oh well, we just have better ideas for the idiot that does it next time.
LOL
Ahh, Lucy,
Aren't you clever making a few calls.
And door opened, or closed, just keep laughing. And yup, we need to get together some time.
Thanks for stopping by.
Crime Scene Christie
Beth,
It's so true, nothing is like a woman's scorn.
And girlfriends are essential.
Thanks for stopping by.
Crime Scene Christie
Sin,
I think the painting trick is going into a lot of women's "For Future Refrence" files.
Cheaters better be aware!!
Crime Scene Christie
Christie,
This year it's preaching in prison. Last year, my ex was building houses in Guatamala. Considering the trail of sin I found when we were calling it quits, let's just say I'm a little dubious about his sincerity. :-)
OMG! These stories are great and when the hubby gets home I know he'll be a good boy when I tell him what all I've learned!
His trucks are his little babies and don't even think of dropping a french fry under the seat and not spending twenty minutes to dig it out. I can only imagine his face when it comes to fish!
In all seriousness though, I have been assured he's not going anywhere. You see ladies, in the south, men also prize their guns and if YOU buy them, the guns go in YOUR name--not his. I have made it clear I was taking all the rifles & pistols in the event we split. We have a growing collection and it's probably about time I added to it for father's day!
:O)
Vicky,
Do you think he's trying to make amends for those sins?
Hey . . . he can try, I didn't say he'd ever be able to do it.
Crime Scene Christie
Keri,
LOL. Keep those guns close!
Seriously, if you have a good man, you need to appreciate him.
Thanks for posting girl.
Crime Scene Christie
Loved this and I'm not surprised that you stayed with the friend until the coffee was outside the store. I've hidden out in a store, but not from hubby...just when I saw a boyfriend I'd jilted. That was when I was very young. I'm brave now that I'm...ahem, older!
Hi Francyne!
Girl, your courage never fails to astound me.
Thanks for posting.
Get to feeling better!
Crime Scene Christie
thanks for another memory stirring story.
I was going to share the story about my ex who wanted to leave me until he realized I was leaving him.
But , we'll save that for a later date.
Weddings can be Murder boy should I have giving you some input on that. How about getting a phone call the day before you wedding saying well your boyfriend was in jail last night but he'll be able to be there for the Wedding. You know at the time you think it's to late to call the whole thing off.
Im looking forward to seeing you soon. in Alabama.
Hi Terry,
Those memories sound tough. You are much better off without the scumbag.
And yes, we'll see you soon.
Crime Scene Christie
I don't know what I would do without my gal pals.
And it's good to know I'm not the only one who'd rather be poked in the eye with a sharp stick than see their ex. My youngest graduate from high school this year--cutting down the instances we have to interact--so that's cause for celebration.
And I still maintain the best revenge is living well!
~Bullet Hole whose been there/done that~
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