Last night it was the night of the week when I have to spend hours in the car, sitting in traffic, dropping the kids at their Dad’s house, so he can spend a couple of hours with them before. Always at my inconvenience and leaving me under considerable pressure to get the car back home, in rush hour traffic, if I have any social arrangements.
By the time I got home, Julian had arrived. We were both a bit knackered. So we decided a couple of drinks in the pub would be great, but nothing wild.
During supper, the conversation came around to the ‘inappropriate’ man, who had offered me 'no strings sex' a week or so before. We had a thoroughly entertaining time discussing what terrible act of revenge I could inflict on him, for his bad behaviour. Supper finished and still giggling at some of the harsher punishments we had considered, we wandered off to the pub.
Having managed to get ourselves a table and a couple of drinks, the man himself walked in. Julian and I couldn’t believe our luck.
He caught site of me and instantly recognised me. He looked a bit embarrassed and clearly didn’t know what to do. His friend, who had been with him on the fateful night, was clearly giving him a hard time. All of a sudden, the ‘monster’ now just looked a bit embarrassed, sad and lost. I actually started to feel a bit sorry for him.
Don’t worry – I was not so sorry as to let him off the hook completely, but definitely sorry enough to stop short of maiming him.
After a further discussion with Julian about my plan of campaign, I decided to just be my ballsy self. As I passed his table on the way to the bar, I stopped and said hello.
“You were very drunk last week.” I started.
“Yes, but so were you!” he replied, as if my being drunk was some sort of defence.
“Yes, I was, which is unlike me. But you were both drunk and inappropriate. Very inappropriate.”
“Oh no. Was it that bad? I remember going outside for a cigarette, but after that…. I don’t really remember.” Yeah! Right! What a selective memory!
“Well, if you don’t remember, I’m not going to embarrass you by telling you, but it was very inappropriate and I didn’t appreciate it.”
And then I came out with my killer line…
“Right. Now we’ve sorted that one out, why don’t you and your friend come over and join us for a quick drink?”
Ah – I hadn’t told you about my tactic had I? Kill ‘em with kindness!
The look on his face was a picture. He didn’t know what to do or say. So I turned to his friend, who was clearly enjoying Mr Inappropriate’s discomfort.
“Come on, it would be lovely to meet you properly, and I can introduce you to my friend Julian.”
So Mr Inappropriate, who felt he had no choice, and his friend, who was thoroughly enjoying himself, came and joined our table.
It turned out that the friend was quite interesting and before I knew it, Julian and I were engrossed in conversation with him, whilst Mr I was completely ignored. He sat there quietly, with no one really talking to him, until finally he stood up to go home.
Evening out with his friend, ruined; chastised; tail between his legs; very embarrassed; forced to spend his evening with the new thorn in his side (aka Lara Lakin); but unable to say that I had been anything less than polite and charming, Mr I slunk off home.
As Julian walked me home, we agreed that it had turned into a surprisingly entertaining evening.
Forget tarring and feathering or any of the more severe forms of punishment. Sometimes, being nice to someone who’s done us wrong is the best punishment ever.