Revenge. That is what I wonder about. I have to say i am a little old fashioned when it comes to this. I am afraid I cannot endorse turning another cheek or “not sinking to their level”, “they’re not worth it”, or any other platitude that is simply just cowardly hyperbole masquerading as benevolent philosophy. We are creatures of sentience and passion. So to that equally banal washed out hippy drivel standard you hear people say: “it won’t make you feel any better” I say very loudly: “YES IT F**KING WILL”
Let me give you a brief example.
My wife and I used to live in a horrible flat for many years. Eventually we moved into a flat half the size for twice the rent.
We LOVED it there. Peaceful, clean, and safe. We were at our happiest in a domestic sense and it was reflected in our lives. My career was advancing, my wife was expecting, we were in a deserved paradise after the squalor we had experienced for so long. The neighbours above and below were lovely, there was nothing to complain about.
This was until the new couple downstairs moved in. They were rude but I didn’t care. I wasn't looking to make friends. However, it changed when the letting agent wrote and said there were complaints from them.! No mention to us, just straight to the teacher. These were the complaints:
My alarm clock was too loud,
we were not collecting our post,
my smoking outside was getting in their window.
Firstly due to wifey and her impending infant dropping I had quit smoking by then. The alarm clock and the post…...not worth the ink to mention. However, regardless of the absurdity, I had to take it seriously
My poor wife was distraught. , we had come from a horrible home where we were afraid for our safety every night. Even though this place was tiny and costly, it was clean, safe, and bright. Safe, and low-level. It was summer, we had tea by the open window,a luxury that was a fantasy in the converted chapel we had come from. We were so happy and she feared us getting evicted. We decided to approach it openly but considerately.
We went to the agent and explained it was all daft. they clearly agreed. With little fuss It was all quashed, the couple in question even decided to move into the next building across, to a bigger flat. It was above a flat with high ceilings. Still absurd considering the ideal neighbours that we were. Some of the neighbour stories I could share from our time in a Housing Association flat would shock you. Considering the reaction to an alarm clock and junk mail, if I told said neighbours, they would probably be catatonic for life.
So as we never saw them and in the interests of a placid domestic ambience, we decided to chalk it up to some people being malignant little helmet-ulcers
That was it, until we discovered the girl on Facebook by accident. You will never guess what the toxic little axe-wound was doing and had admitted to? She was hiding our mail and complaining we hadn’t collected it! The little tinker bell! Unfortunately as it had technically been delivered she was not actually interfering with the royal mail, as if she had we had her bang to rites! I was livid. That vicious little c**t had upset my wife for malicious reasons. We reported the discovery, as well as her slating the landlord in her Facebook feed, which was just my petty little add-on.
Now a month or two passed, she and her boyfriend were in the other building. Then one morning on the way to work, what did I see but a wallet on the floor. Intriguing….it was his. This ratty little brat who I had heard speak only once, moaning at his mother for not buying him a microwave in the most nasal voice ever. What made this so tantalising was the fact he was a copper I ask you, a policeman? He was a scrawny wimp whom I only heard speak once, griping at his mother in an entitled, nasal pre-teen whine . I bet the local criminals were terrified!
Any road, inside the wallet was….HIS WARRANT CARD!!!
It was like the heavens opened and the clouds parted and to celestial hallelujahs of all legion angels rang out as the cosmic sun shone on my opportunism. Now had this cowardly couple of curmudgeons complained to me directly about the fags or the alarm clock, after laughing I would have done my best to address it providing all courteousness was applied, and I would have just posted the wallet through the door. However, not only did the go to the lettings firm, they lied and hid valuable items from us to strengthen the case. Making us fear for the safety of our newly delightful domestic domicile. I knew how serious a policeman losing his warrant card was. Now I could have handed it in at the station, so he may have been lucky and no one in authority finding out. Sadly for PC Fauntleroy though, I decided to call the Chief Constables office and make an official notification. I also ensured to leave my business card in his wallet with a “please forward all mail” note attached when the officer arrived to collect it.
He would have known it was me, known I did it because of what he did to us, and (this bit is for you guys also) known I absolutely f**king LOVED it. Did it really make me feel better though, really, I suppose if I am truly honest YES IT FROLICKING WELL DID.
Why should you care about my little story? You shouldn't. What I am trying to explain is that it is not always best to "turn the other cheek", or to "be the better man". The worst vice is ad-vice. If you want to slash someones tyre, go ahead. Make sure they deserve it, look at things objectively. You will get no support otherwise. However, if you have the opportunity to impart hurt and pain onto someone who has done the same to you, crack on. People will say "it won't make you feel better." Take it from a veteran, it will.
So give it a try. It makes the world go round. From sports to politics to love and life. Without revenge, and more importantly the urge we feel, the world would be a very level and sterile place. We mustn’t choose which urges to deny, either all of them or none of them. We are encouraged to pursue romantic love or career aspirations, and they feel great when they pay off, but take it from me, getting your own back in a pretty solid base of endorphins too and I won’t deny myself again. Neither should you.
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