I was so looking forward to this day: a gathering at a friends’ lake house. A day of sunshine, water, good eats, laughter, camaraderie & pontoon rides. A day of good tunes, easy conversations, jet skis, sunblock and beach hair.
Like I do, I carefully planned the foods I’d bring, deciding on a fresh peach/blueberry cobbler & an appetizer dip. Hubbs and I eagerly anticipated the day, the forecast was perfect for a country ride “up” to the lake house, and the camaraderie we were soon to experience.
Arriving just after 1pm we set down the coolers and arranged chairs; food covered their kitchen counter and friends hugged hello, gathering around the patio table. Classic 70s rock playing in the background, a waterfall trickled softly and we savored the summer breeze off the lake.
Soon the Hostess asked if I was up for a ride on her “new” jet ski, the high powered one gleaming in the distance. “You bet,” I answered but “let’s visit first.” And so we did. When I offered how I didn’t bring my swimsuit and just had a tee shirt & shorts she promised, “I won’t get you wet.” And I know she knows what she’s doing .. so I went with it.
As we strapped on life vests and headed to the dock, another couple joined the party – so soon came more greetings before climbing onto the Sea-do. Heading to the open water, with my pal driving and me holding tight, we navigated smaller waves until a time she could “open it up” – flying now – fast and tight, my hair whipping behind me, I caught a glimpse at the speedometer: 57mph. Shrieking, we leaned into a turn, jumped the wake left by a puttering pontoon boat, both of us rocketing forward and laughing our heads off. Hanging on, fully exhilarated, truly living.
Having an “it-doesn’t-get-better-than-this-moment,” and then some. 😀
We circled a few times then made our way back to the dock where friends gathered, men on the deck, ladies on chairs in the shallow water, waves lapping their calves. Coasting into shore, I commented on how good of a driver my friend is, and thanked her that I did not have one drop of water on me, amazing! We hopped off and waded towards shore, where the women gathered. With everyone watching, one gal commented “you went all that way and didn’t even get wet” and I nodded and smiled, about to compliment my friend on her excellent command of the machine. But before I could do so, that same woman reached down and, with both hands, doused me in water, from head to toe. Water soaked my hair, dripped down my sunglasses and face, top, shorts and underwear now completely drenched, with rivulets of water running down my legs. I stood there in shocked disbelief, having my own “Carrie” moment, trying to come to terms with what just happened.
What. The. ??? What’s wrong with you?
Looking back, there’s a part of me that almost did what I’d always done: “take the high road” “turn the other cheek” and all that other passive bullsh*t I’d been preached to my whole life. The same words that always translated to just lie down, be quiet and take it.
And I might have done that until I saw another so-called friend laughing.
And that was it. That was the tipping point.
Shaking water off my sunglasses while simultaneously wiping it from my eyes I looked around at those who looked away, said nothing, and the splasher and that one “friend” laughing.
All at my expense. Nice.
I’m 5’2″ and the splasher well she’s 3 years younger and 4″ taller.
But it only took an second – I lunged at her with both hands, knocking her off her feet.
I’m petty sure she got air before landing in that lake sideways with a thud. Sputtering she got up yelling, flailing and swearing …. “I thought you were a nice girl” and my response was this, “I am. You started it. Want some more?”
Women backed off, clucked, fussed and did nothing.
Someone said “this feels like High School” and I answered “YEP it sure does, I hope you all remember who started it. Just keep it up and I’ll finish it!”
- I probably should feel remorse …. but I don’t.
- I probably should be embarrassed …. but I’m not.
- I hit her with everything I’ve got and then some. And I’d do it again.
Maybe when bullies decide they’re going to pick someone’s hide, they should consider who they’re picking: in my case, she picked a 50-something woman who’s had enough of immature jerks and is no longer going to lie down and take it.
And I have better insurance, too.
Gotta love me some TOWANDA!
- When’s the last time you dealt with a bully?
- What did you do?
- In the situation described above, what would you have done if you were me?
- If you ever retaliated against someone’s nastiness, how did leave you feeling?
- I don’t feel great about it, but I don’t feel bad, either. 😀