This week’s writing assignment from MamaKat: Describe a New Year’s where you would have been better off just staying home.
This one is too easy, given that there is one cursed New Year’s Eve that stands out vividly from all the rest.
But first a little back story:
During the summer between my freshman and sophomore years at Troy, I met a guy that I thought hung the moon. Sure, he was one of the biggest jerks I knew, but for some reason, I stayed infatuated with him for months. One day, he’d act like he adored me. The next, I was nearly a stranger. Each time he’d act like an ass, I’d swear to myself that I was going to quit answering his phone calls. All he ever did was let me down and piss me off. But then the phone would ring and all would be forgotten (yet never totally forgiven.)
It just so happened that this particular jerk had a younger brother who, as it turns out, was as infatuated with me as I was with his brother. (Weird, I know.) Although the younger of the two was definitely the sweetheart of the family, I wasn’t interested. I’d been hung up on his brother for too long. I was never mean to the brother, though. Always friendly — So what transpired New Year’s Eve of 2005 was completely unexpected.
The night started off okay. My roommate and I went to the Delta Chi house to hang out with friends. I remember that there was a great band playing that night – one of my local favorites. After the clock stuck midnight, I decided to go home and get some sleep since I had to be at work early the next morning. My roommate wanted to stay, but said she’d catch a ride from someone else. So, I went home, completely unprepared to face the fury of Hell by myself.
When I pulled into the driveway, I could tell there was someone sitting on the steps to my front porch. As I got out, I realized that it was the Jerk himself, obviously VERY drunk. (He was holding an empty bottle of whiskey. Classy, right?) Had I know what was coming, I would have gotten back in the car and driven far, far away.
But bleeding heart that I am, I thought he might be in some sort of trouble, or need someone to talk to, so I approached him and was greeted by the longest, loudest string of obscenities I’d ever heard. He called me every name in the book. Horrible, vicious, untrue things. He told me he hated me. Said I never meant a “damn thing” to him. Me. The nice one. The one that bent over backwards to be his friend, even after he proved himself the biggest jerk on the planet.
And you know what warranted this attack?? Apparently his little brother was heartbroken because I wouldn’t go out with him, and the Jerk held me accountable. After all the crap he put me through – for MONTHS – he was mad at me because I wouldn’t date his brother!?
When I finally managed to get inside and slam the door in his face, he stood on the porch yelling and beating on the door. I called a mutual friend of ours and made him come pick the Jerk up and take him home. Then he called me, incessantly, blocking his number – apparently thinking I was stupid enough to answer. I went to bed crying, mostly out of anger, wondering why I was stupid enough to fall for his crap for so long.
And guess what? The Jerk had the nerve to call me two days later, after swearing he hated me and would never speak to me again, to apologize for his behavior. His excuse was, “Well you know how I get when I’m drunk. I just thought you could have been nicer to my brother. He really liked you. I know you were never mean to him, though. I’m sorry.” He wanted to know if we were “cool” – couldn’t we stay friends? He said he didn’t mean any of it. I think I remember laughing and telling him where to go.
I don’t know if staying home that night would have fixed anything, since that’s where he was, so I guess the assignment should read, “Describe a New Year’s where you would have been better off just leaving the county or hiding in a hole somewhere.”
The Jerk is now married to someone far better than me. She would have to be to put up with him. The woman deserves to be made a saint.