Makin' the Best of a Bad Situation
Copyright© 2014 by Ragnaar
I was just pulling into town after a week away on sales calls in a neighboring state. I'd had a good week. I decided to treat myself to a day off, and headed home at the end of the day on Thursday. I would arrive late. My plan was to sneak in, and slip into bed, and surprise my wife of only nineteen years. I still felt a thrill when I looked at her. She was tall and willowy and with a clear white alabaster complexion topped off with a mane of fiery red hair that would have put Maureen O'Hara to shame.
We first met on our first day of class at a local junior college in the first period class on English 101. I was a recently returned Vietnam Vet. She was a recently turned eighteen year old, away from Mommy and Daddy for the first time to the big college down the road ten miles from home.
Becky at eighteen was all arms and legs, elbows and knees. She reminded me of a spider crab, she was so thin. She was just over six feet tall, and probably weighed less than one-twenty. She had this glorious balloon of frizzy red hair the color of fresh grated carrots. She was a carpenters dream girl. Flat as a board. For me it was love a first sight.
I was twenty-three at six-five and two-hundred-thirty pounds of former Marine, fresh from the jungles of South East Asia.
Anyway, fast forward nineteen years and two kids later, and I was on the way home to my love. I had my favorite radio station on and was listening to a great oldies song from back in the time of my college years. It was:
"Makin' the best of a bad situation" by Dick Feller
I always got a chuckle out of the lyrics. This song and others like it were probably the first of the rap songs. The difference with it is that I can actually understand the words.
The first verse is really funny.
"Now, I know a man
He's a hard workin' man
He gets up real early, and he goes down town
And about fifteen minutes after he's been gone
There's a big milk truck pulls up on the lawn
And that milkman rushes up to the door
Where that man's wife is waitin' in a kimona
And she plants a big ol' kiss on his cheek and they go inside
And that truck never moves for an hour or two
Well it's none of my business
One day I called him aside and told him what was goin' on
While he was gone
And he said, "Well I guess that's so, but do you know
We're never outta' milk or cottage cheese or yogurt, ice cream, or none of them other cowy things"
I guess he's makin' the best of a bad situation
Don't wanta make waves, can't you see
He's just makin' the best of a bad situation
Reckon I'd do the same if it was me"
As I was coming down the street toward my house. I saw a car in my drive way. It was well after two in the morning. I was wondering what the hell was going on. As I got closer, I saw the front door open. It was a full moon bright night. There were no lights on, but I could see clearly none the less. I saw a man dressed in dark slacks and a white shirt kiss my wife and then skip down the stairs and around his car like he was Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly, in one of those old dance movies from the forties. By this time, I had rolled to the curb and was only a couple of houses up from ours. I had turned off my lights. I guess they were so wrapped up in each other they never saw my lights.
To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I was gobsmacked. I have never had an inkling that not everything in our marriage was sunshine and lolly pops. I loved Becky unconditionally and she loved me the same ... I thought. Never in my wildest fantasy had I ever believed this would happen to me. Many of the men I worked with in our sales organization had gone through divorce for infidelity or something similar.
I sat there on the side of the street for an hour or so. After the car drove off, I saw the bathroom light come on, it was located on the back corner of our house and had a window facing the side and rear. I watched the shadow of Becky moving about in the bathroom. The light was on for quite a while. I assumed that she was taking a shower before she went back to bed. As I sat there watching the light, I was trying to figure out what to do. I really didn't have a clue. I did know however that I would never knowingly be wimp or a cuckold for anybody. As I sat, a plan began to form. I remembered the words to the song that I had just heard. I was going to make the best of a bad situation. I slowly drove away and went to a small local motel on the other side of town. I decided to take my time and formulate a plan.
I was angry and knew I would have to get some pay back on the man. You see the man was my dirt bag ex-brother in law. He had been married to my wife's younger sister, Ginger. He had cheated on her continuously until she finally gave him the Ole' heave ho out the door. When he was married, he was always slinking around trying to see down blouses or up skirts of any and all women no matter the age.
Now my Dearly Beloved wife had always professed a profound dislike for him after he treated her sister with such disdain. How he had managed to inveigle his way into her panties, I was going to have to find out. He was definitely going to pay in deep seated pain and long term suffering. No one, least of all him, could fuck me over and get away with it. As I sat in my motel room, many scenarios went through my mind. Chief of which was maximum payback and limited risk. The idea of going to prison to let this numb nuts feel my wrath, did not appeal to me in the least.
Finally, morning arrived. I called my Dearly Beloved and let her know that I would be home early. I told her I thought I would arrive around noon or so. She seemed excited that we could spend the afternoon together and may be do something special for the evening. I told her to plan what ever she would like and we would do it. My next call was to a Marine buddy of mine from back in Vietnam. I wanted to bounce some ideas off him and get his input on how to properly exact my retribution of Numb Nuts and my Dearly Beloved.
Jerry was a good guy and he had a similar situation happen to him right after he got home from Vietnam. He had gone to prison because he acted in the heat of passion and had immediately killed the man and seriously thrashed his wife. Because it was not premeditated. He got off on a light sentence back in the early 1970's. If it would have been today, he would be gone for life most likely. When he got out. He started an interesting business. It was by referral only, for want of a better term, he became a fixer. Of course it was all strictly off the books and under the radar. His tax paying business was a Landscaping Company that allowed him lots of time to complete other jobs as well. The Landscaping Company paid him well. The other enterprise paid him extraordinarily well. I had sat with him on several occasions while he told me stories of life in prison and what he had learned there and who he had met. It was from his contacts in prison that he was able to get some of the extreme things done. To exact the revenge that was required by the client to regain some sense of well being now that his enemy was no more.
We set a time to meet for breakfast that very morning. I love it when a plan comes together and this one was coming together very fast.