Son of a bitch!
I got played the other day. The guy’s been laying for me since I moved in. I’ve kept him at arm’s distance, but when he asked me to visit his sick father, I thought it would be an opportunity to improve relations. Turns out he put me in the middle of a family feud.
Son of a bitch!
When I first moved here, he fawned over me, telling me how great I was. I never trust the ones who “love” me when I move to a new church. I predicted he would bide his time, and catch me when I was not at my best, which happened to be late in the evening after a very long day.
So it’s my fault for getting fooled. I should have remembered he was a lying, simpering, pissant.
I raged about it through the next day. I told two people about it. One of them is my sweet online friend who has always reached out to me with her tender support:
“Want me to come down there with my baseball bat and take out his kneecaps?” she offered.
I love this woman. She’s articulate, too, offering her own colorful adjectives to describe my nemesis, which by association had become hers.
I have another friend, who holds a leadership position in my church and is a major reason for my success here. She has the dubious honor of calming down her temperamental minister.
I texted her and calmly explained the situation:
“The guy is a sneaky, sniveling pussy!”
She didn’t argue. Facts are facts. I think she was thinking of my blood pressure when she said, “Take care of yourself.”
“I’m going to haul him by the lapels through the window of his car and express my feelings.”
“That’s just what he wants.” she texted back.
“Really? The man wants his gray haired pastor to whup his ass?”
“He wants you to try, so he can have a reason to get rid of you.”
“I aim to get rid of HIM.”
But she was right. Besides,I haven’t engaged anyone in fisticuffs since I was a kid.
“Sorry,” I texted. “I’m very angry.”
“I can tell,” she said. She’s perceptive that way. She also knew if I was talking to her, I wasn’t confronting the pissant.
She’s no sissy, but I was afraid my raging had been had gotten a little wearisome. Not to worry. She saw me the next day and said, “You are so funny when you get angry. Even through texting, I could see your face getting red and smoke coming from your ears.”
“I’m happy to be entertaining,” I said. And then we spoke more reasonably about how his days on any leadership committee are numbered. It’ll just take a little finesse, a little patience.
And if that doesn’t work, I know someone who can kneecap him.