8-ball

What do you say to the guy who lead a gang rape ten years ago against your favorite ex-girlfriend? Well, I had no clue so I acted like nothing happened. He looked exactly like he did in high school. Afterwards, he went to a major local Ohio college along with my best ex-girlfriend who, through many of my selfish tirades, had somehow miraculously remained a close friend.

All of this is second-hand, mind you–what I heard directly from her. She didn’t file charges against them. She didn’t confront him publicly. She just cried about it over the phone to me. I have a weakness where I tend to believe women who confess to me in the middle of a storm of tears.

He was on a sports team at the college and the MO was to get the girls in under an assumed-safe relationship, slip them a mickey, and have their way with her one by one.

What do you say to someone who did something like that? Well, if you’re a man’s man, you might call him out on it. You may pull a tire tool out of the trunk of your car and spill his brains in the Applebees parking lot, get convicted for first degree murder and cause a bunch more women to cry a bunch more tears, leave your children fatherless, your wife husbandless, and the world one less person to do good in small ways that somehow redeem this spinning shitball three rocks from the sun.

If you were God’s man, you might pray for him and leave it at that. You may ask him to confess his sins and accept whatever flavor of deity you’re selling. Or you may stage a spiritual intervention and lead a torchlight parade down his street.

But if you’re a man who just wants to be a good man, you might do like I did. Smile at the prick, look like you’ve wished him well all these years and imagine that he wakes up screaming at night.

Creative Commons License photo credit: Chris Weisberg

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