Chuck needed revenge. As he thought about it, who he took revenge upon was less important to him than exacting the revenge. One cheating slut was like any other. The men who helped them betray their husbands all deserving of a similar fate. Chuck could keep getting revenge, and as long as it was on other’s, equally deserving, he would never be caught.
Eventually, he came up with Betrayed Husbands Anonymous.
Chuck was a perfect conduit between people wanting revenge and people who could exact revenge. He started developing the means by which the two could be in contact and yet never meet.
++++++
The private eye’s report was revealing. My wife’s one-time fling was with a guy she worked with. Her definition of one-time must have been this was the one-time she’d tell me anything about it.
She and Bozo had fallen in love, and she was planning on dumping me and marrying him. Her plan showed thought, not good thought, and not much thought — but thought, all the same. She told me she was going out to provoke me. She was certain I would leave. Once I left, she could deny having gone out and file for divorce claiming I abandoned her.
The downside of her idea was the fact she and her lover were recognizable to at least three hotel desk people, on sight. Her company enforced no policy regarding married people being involved in the workplace. What form would my revenge take?
I was not tied to the area. My parents had retired to Florida, nearly a thousand miles away. I could just quit my job and disappear. But first, I needed her to be single, without good prospects, and preferably, unemployed.
Her current “love” was a cheater, surely, we could get him to cheat. Maybe, we could find a beautiful woman at the free clinic, who had a few nasty diseases, and entice her to seduce him. I liked that. Simple, yet almost surely would get the two mad at one another. If it became public, or they shared with other co-workers, that could get them fired.
Easy to think of, how on earth could it be done? What was the expression? Go big or go home? Why would I limit what I want? If they can’t do it, they can tell me. I was ready to go tell my story, with two days left.
++++++
I got to the diner. It was an old home, converted. You entered into what had been a dining and family room. There was a counter. One probably local man sat there with a cup of coffee. There was an open double-wide door into another room, possibly a bedroom in the past. Maybe a dozen or so men sat in there.
I entered. A man stood and approached me. “Hi, I’m Bob.” I told him.
He didn’t bother to give me his false name, he just pointed at an empty table and told me to sit there. I did and was joined by, “Hi, I’m Ralph.” Oh swell, I thought, we’ve run through the list of names apparently. “Hi, Ralph, Bob.”
He didn’t have much to say, neither did I. Soon it was my turn to stand and tell my story.
“Hi, I’m Bob.” The group gave me a not-so-warm, Hi Bob. “Let me share with you what happened to me. I was married to slut who was cheating on me. I was just too stupid to know it. She came to me one night and announced she was going on a date, just a one-time fling. She knew I’d leave her. I did and she filed for divorce claiming abandonment on my part. She and her one-time fling had been shacking up in local motels for months.