”What are you doing here? I ask “You told me you broke up with him!”
“So? That gives you the right to hurt people? This is my boyfriend’s home. What are you doing here? And dressed like that?”
Hmmm, how do I answer this? It certainly looks kind of awkward.
“I am CheaterSmiterGirl.” I say, feeling stupid for the second time this night. “I am a superhero. I smite the cheaters.”
“No come on girl, what are you really doing here? I did not even hear the door knock or anything. Are you two going behind my back?”
“Honey,” the football head croaks dramatically “I never cheated on you. She just showed up looking like that. I swear. I told you she had a thing for me.”
“Why you lousy, mousy, little weasel!” I start but my friend silences me with her furious face and better cradles his nasty head in her ample bosom. We stay like that for a minute.
“I thought you were my friend.” She finally says.
“I am” I say suddenly uncomfortable. The corset has started to dig in my flesh.
“I am. You told me he makes you unhappy. He can’t commit. He is a cheater, you told me so yourself. You told me he broke up with him.” I repeat myself in a little voice.
“ I did this for you. I can’t stand seeing you unhappy, or making a mistake you will regret later”
“Well, I doubt that. We are getting engaged.” She says, and suddenly my high heel boots do not seem like such a great idea. I feel wobbly and a bit nauseous.
“Are you sure?” I manage to ask.
“Of course I am sure. You know, you have always been a bit condescending. And you’ve never been in love for real so you would never understand.”
That shuts me up for good. Oh yeah, it is time to go and leave my friend enjoy her fiancée (or at least try to revive him) I do not take back my smiting though. I still think he deserves to suffer.
I vanish as dramatically as I can, which let me tell you, is no easy feat, because it lasts about half a second and there is no door to bang. All I could hope for is a meaningful air whoosh following my vanishing act.
I do not want to go straight to my apartment so I slow down to a float once outside under the night sky. I need to think. Or more accurately, I need to vent.
I cannot believe this. After all the infinite hours spent glued to the phone listening to my friend fall in pieces, after all the emergency sleep-overs, bar bashes and group hugs, it comes to this. That I never understood. How could I when all the side I ever saw was the negative one? I never woke up at midnight by a happy phone call from my friend with news of her latest orgasm. I never spend hundreds in bar tabs and cab rides for detailed stories of romantic getaways and dedicated boyfriends. Come to think of it, thank God I did not.
Nice night air. I whoosh in between trees and think about giving up my newfound profession. Based on what I saw, I can’t say girls need somebody to save them from themselves. But the outfit is too cool. And I know that there are girls out there who are still suffering. And I know that my friend will also come to her senses one day.
I think should stay in business. All I need is a flyer.
“Ever felt slighted, hurt and demoralized because of your boyfriend? Ever caught your fiancée singing the national anthem to your best friend? Ever seen your husband try to regift you with a monogrammed compact mirror that does not have your initials?
Keying his car? Erasing his cell phone? Emailing his naked pics to his superviser? No need. Just call CheaterSmiterGirl and you will be vindicated! Guaranteed complete satisfaction or your money back, no questions asked”
Oh yes, and a mask.