I don’t mean like Osama bin Laden or Jack Chick or that sort of enemy—I mean personal enemies. People who would gleefully push you in front of the subway, and who you certainly wouldn’t cross the street to spit on if they were on fire. I have two, both of them competing authors:
• One came out with a book similar to one of mine at around the same time; my book kicked his book’s butt around the block, and he has never gotten over it. He still bad-mouths me in public, gets me blackballed from TV documentaries . . . He is a bitter little piss-ant and I try to Rise Above It.
• The other writer is someone whose work I actually like, so it was a shock to see him write godawful, vicious things about my books. I asked a mutual friend, and she says, "I did finally just ask him why he doesn’t like you. He said that this just isn’t so—he simply doesn’t approve of your research methods! Now what the heck does that mean? My guess is that you interviewed someone who wouldn’t talk to him.”
Doesn’t approve of my research methods? Well, how can you get people to talk unless you tie them up and slap them around?
So, do you-all have any bete noirs? or is it betes noir? (“Betty Noir” would be a great drag name . . . )
Had a few in my time, notably a kid in high school named Mike… he used to give me flak about my weight (I was a pretty tubby kid) and it developed into a full-on hatred. I gleefully would have shoved him in a Doctor-Evil-style vat of caustic chemicals or pool full of sharks with frickin’ lasers on their heads. Man, I hated that guy. Graduated from high school and haven’t thought about him more than three times since then.
I don’t think there’s anyone that would push me in front of a speeding subway car. I don’ t see where I could inspire so much hatred in someone, because I can be pretty darn nice. Then again…
There is one person whose ultimate demise would make me raise a toast and run naked through the streets singing “HALLELUJAH!” at the top of my lungs, though. I would put signs up all over town proclaiming that he was dead, take out full page ads in major newspapers that just said “nyah nyah NYAH!”; I would give the raspberry to anyone who named a newborn with his name; I would call all of his friends and in my best Nelson impersonation say “ha HA!”; I would laugh and laugh and laugh until I wept with joy.
I had a harridan nag co-worker until a couple of months ago that I dreamed of accidentally charging with my forklift so she’d stumble of her own accord over the edge of the loading dock.
But now I changed jobs and she’s tormenting someone else.
When I was a child my family had a mini feud with the family next door to us for a few years.
Basically they moved in next door to us and it seemed that we would be friends. They had two boys who’s ages were almost the same as me and next older brother. They had an older daughter about the same age as my sisters. Things should work out great.
But nooooooooooo
I’m not sure but in hindsight this may have been the first actual house these people lived in. Most people would call them trailer park trash (not that I have anything against people who live in trailer parks) but they fit that sort of sterotype. Then the boys started picking fights and their mom would come out and break them up and yell at my brother and me for hiding behing our mothers apron strings. (our mom wasn’t home at the time)
Anyway probably the worst incident was when they (probably the oldest son) killed our cat. We had an all white cat and one night my mom as doing the dishes and saw the cat in our backyard and she appeared fine. Then a few minutes later she was at the back door and obviously in distress. So an emergency trip to the vet and the vet can’t tell what is wrong but gave her a sedation and as she lie there dying the vet stroked her side and a red streak appeared. She looked closer and there was a BB gun wound to her side. It punctured her lung and she basically drowned. Then when my mom and my oldest brother came home from the vet my brother took the cat (in a box) and went to their door. Now it’s about 11 at night and when the mom answered the door, well trust me. Nothing you have ever read in the pit would compare to what happened. Needless to say they completly denied shoting our cat but they moved about 3 months later.
So, Timmy, Marke (yes Marke), Carla, and Maisy, (I don’t remember the dad’s name) where ever you are, you should know that I still hate your guts.
College - I’m in the process of getting dual degrees, Science and Music.
Music is so easy for me, basically gave me a way of keeping my GPA up.
The resident Concert Pianist is teaching Music History. Horrible teacher. By the end of the year EVERYONE has dropped the class but me (I’m stubborn).
Finals comes along and as I’m taking his final he asks how hard I studied. The idiot that I am, I told him I didn’t study Music History at all and spent all my time studying Parasitology.
When I got my grades over the summer, he had given me a C - I went into the final with a high A. No way of getting below a D unless he failed me on the final. Yep, come back in the fall and the grade B was marked out on the test and an F was written in. And he had left the university and I couldn’t contest the grade.
I ended up getting a minor in music. And if I ever see this man walking on the side of the road, I may just have a sneezing fit and “accidentally” run him over… several times.
Yeah, I have Blood Enemies: Note to Doctors - I have Type Blood O-, if I need any Replacement Organs, you damn well better be sure I do not get A, B or AB. Just O-, Got it MF’ers, I don’t feel like dying/checking out/kicking the bucket/pushing up daisies/taking a dirt nap, because of your Clerical or blood Typing Mistake.
I have enemies I’d like to see bloodied, is that the same thing?
Anyway, the only one safe to talk about right now is this girl I was in grade school with. She tormented me from grade 1 straight through grade 6. We were always seated alphabetically in class and her name came right after mine. Six years of hair-pulling, pencils in the back and lunch money stolen out of my pocket. I was too timid to do anything back to her. Although I did push her over in gym class once when nobody was looking.
She still owes me a nickel too.
His dad is recovering and his mom is being nice to him (in general), so it’s not really them I’m talking about. It was even worse than that, if you please. I’ll let him tell you about it if he feels like.
Well the Swedes are kind of bloodenemies but you won’t believe how many forms you have to fill out to get 8 million people to stand in line on the subway waiting to be pushed.
I’ve known some people that I really didn’t like( and this was when I was a conscript and had a wepon) but I never let it become hatred.
