Betrayed Husbands Anonymous

“There is a meeting at this address.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card with the name of a restaurant and its address.

“That’s nearly 80 miles from here!”

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“That is where the meeting will be held, it will begin promptly at 7:00pm, day after tomorrow. Are you interested?”

The group calls itself anonymous, maybe that is one of the ways they stay anonymous. “Sure, I’ll be there.”

“There is a private room in the restaurant. Tell the receptionist, you are part of the Petry party. When you get to the room, show them the card I gave you and present yourself as Ralph.” He stood, obviously to leave.

“Wait! I have about a thousand questions.”

“I have said what I came to say. Thank you and I wish you well.” With that he smiled and left.

I was excited for the first time since living alone. A chance at revenge without risk. This was some sort of a chain letter on steroids. Obviously, if I am ever asked who brought me into the group, all I can say is “Ralph”. Now, since I am Ralph, I don’t even know if that was his first name. It seems apparent that as I go along, I will get more instruction and information, which ultimately will lead to a bon fire with my ex in the middle. Did that mean I would, at some point, need to build and light the bon fire for some one else? Even if there is no chance of getting caught, could I batter the hands of a surgeon I’d never met? Revenge without getting caught is still not without remorse. I had thinking to do.

I needed to know more about my wife’s intended. Judy, my wife, came into the den one Friday night, dressed for an evening out. I had been home only a few minutes and was wondering why I did not smell dinner cooking. She announced she was going on a date. A fight ensued, a horn honked, and she was on her way. I decided I would not be disrespected, packed a bag and left. I found a crappy one-bedroom apartment I could rent month-to-month (bad as it is I bet I could have rented it minute-to-minute). Being honorable, I knew I’d still need to pay on our home expenses.

Knowing how well men do in divorces I was socking away all the cash I could. I searched for a private detective and found several here in town. I called one and described what I needed. My wife is now living in our home with a guy who drives a blue Toyota; find out who he is and what he does. It would cost very little to get that information.

Now, I had a day-and-a-half to think about what kind of revenge I wanted and what I was willing to do to have that revenge. Somehow it was easier when the law prevented me from seeking this revenge. No matter how safe, there is no way I am going to maim someone for life; it just isn’t in me.

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