Call me petty, but I experienced a little frisson of happiness this morning when I discovered that my ex-husband is now living in a trailer park.
Now I, myself, lived in a trailer park back in the day. A pretty run-down trailer park. Actually, I lived in a run-down trailer park with my then-husband back in the day. Because we were young and poor.
We were actually living in that run-down trailer park when I packed up and left him. Because, you see, I found out through trailer-park sources that he was sleeping with another woman. A married woman. A married woman with children.
(Note: You cannot get away with ANYTHING in a trailer park. They are like the worst little small-town Peyton Places EVER. Should you ever find yourself in a trailer park, BEHAVE, because if you don't, everybody in the place will know your bizness in about half a day. The trailer park grapevine is a mighty thing to behold.)
So! I left him, the woman left her husband, they moved in together, and here's where the story gets REALLY GOOD.
When I left him, ex-husband and I agreed to split the cost of the divorce 50-50. I should have made him pay for the whole damn thing, but I knew the odds of that happening were zero, so I decided to settle for half. I had my half of the money and went on with my new single life in my new apartment (over a bar) (movin' on up!), waiting for him to cough up his half of the dough so we could make the break official.
Fast-forward to several months later, when I'm in the parking lot of a local grocery store. An EXTREMELY PREGNANT woman walks up to me, says, "Um .... excuse me? Are you *Insert first name here*? *Insert first name here* *Insert last name here*?"
"Yes," I said. "Do I know you?"
Yeah, you got it.
It was the ex-husband's new girlfriend, whom he had managed to knock up in world-record time, and she was just about to pop.
"Why won't you give him a divorce?" she asked. "We want to get married so we can give the baby his last name."
How honorable, I thought. I then explained that we had agreed to split the cost 50-50, and that as soon as he coughed up his share, we would divorce. ASAP would be fine with me. Yesterday, if possible, as far as I was concerned.
"Oh!" she said. "He told me that you were refusing to divorce him, and that's why we can't get married!"
"Honey", I said gently. "Is that the first lie he's told you?"
"No", she said quietly, a sad look coming over her face. "I'm sorry to bother you."
And she walked away.
I don't know what happened to her or the kidlet, but my ex is now living, by himself, in a trailer park.
And because I am mean and petty, this little factoid makes me happy.