Hold Your Ground

Ever been engaged in a heated, low down, dirty, rotten war of words with someone? I was, yesterday morning. It started at 3:15 am when - after a long series of exchanges - I texted back to this big, fat, old, ugly, mess of a man to "CHOKE on his 'Sorry'" (because it was insincere) and then "GOODBYE, M__". I thought that was the end of it - but oh no - a bully always has to have the last word, even when they don't have a leg to stand on. From that point on, our communication escalated into a one upmanship nightmare.

6 hours later, when I checked my messages, there was his putrid response, littered with insults and lies. Do you think I was going to let him get away with it? Hell naw! I fired back a volley of my own, and then off we went, careening down a mountain of shit through verbally-charged minefields. Pow! Bang! Kablowey! All the while, I held my own and wouldn't back down. I gave as good as I got, and then some. By the end, I made that sonofabitch my bitch and gave him something to think about the next time he decides to engage an opponent he grossly underestimates.

Yesterday, I learned something about myself: I don't suffer fools at all. When you're wrong, you're wrong, and I won't hesitate to tell you. Of course, me being 5'5", this type of engagement is only possible in a non-physical arena, such as texting. Even engaging an opponent over the phone is ineffectual if their voice's louder and resonates deeper than my own - they can easily shout me down, no problem. But when it comes to a war of words - ie. ideas and values distilled - I'm not intimidated because my convictions fortify me against their bullshit. No one can convince me I'm wrong when I know in the depths of my soul I'm not, no matter how old, loud, big or "successful" they are.

I saved my half of the exchange. I've been reading it over and over again, proud of my audacity. It's not easy standing up to an older man, especially when you've been raised in an environment that was dominated by your father. I never said a damn word that contradicted my father's, in his presence or elsewhere. He was omniscient to me, and it wasn't until I hit my twenties that I started to question his perspective. Naturally, that's when our relationship fell apart, as I believe is common between fathers and daughters. As long as females remain little girls - both mentally and physically - Daddy's a happy man. The imbalance of power allows him to feel heroic and superior. But as soon as we start to mature, experiment and take ownership of our existence, he feels left out and threatened. This, of course, is when it's time for us to pack our bags and leave home.

Unfortunately, most of us women never get over our father's influence, and his presence in our mindset is reflected in how we relate to other men - be they partners, authority figures, other relatives or offspring. It's like his stamp of approval/disapproval is evident in the eyes of the males we encounter, and we lose perspective of what and who we're truly dealing with. These men are not him, but it's difficult to make the distinction. His gaze haunts us, even when he's thousands of miles away. It's downright spooky. I have to say, a man has to be one helluva strong character himself to break through the bubble of a father's influence; weak men just don't stand a chance.

So...do you want to see my texts? I have to warn you - it ain't pretty. Mr. Ass Pustule said some really foul things that don't bear repeating, but I think you can fill in the blanks, anyway. I'll add a few words here and there to clarify things, but other than that, you're on your own.

Got your helmet on?

Ok, we're going in...

The set up: At 3:15 am, I told him to "CHOKE on his 'sorry'" and then "GOODBYE, M__". 6 hours later, he starts the insult ball rolling by calling me a phony and implying that I deserve to be in the financial trouble I'm in. Me:

I never liked you. You're one of the ugliest men I've ever met, both inside and out. I'm GLAD I don't have to see you again or let you touch me.

Added:

FYI: Guys like you will ALWAYS have to pay for it, one way or the other. Don't worry, I've ALREADY lost your number.

He insults my looks and tells me I'm a lousy lay. This couldn't possibly be further from the truth. (Backstory: He's complained numerous times in the past about his nutjob wife.)

LIES. ALL LIES. I know sour grapes when I see them, you pathetic monster. Good luck with your CRAZY ASS wife.

He says I've turned him off from prostitutes. What he doesn't know is that I think the profession is a crock of shit. He also says that I should suck his c--k. Fucking loser can't even spell out the word.

You're welcome. Too bad only RETARDS, CRACKHEADS & YOUR CRAZY ASS WIFE will suck your COCK.

At this point, he's starting to weaken. Was it the jab about his wife or his lack of sexual desireability? He tells me to leave him alone.

You're the one who contacted ME. I was done with you HOURS AGO.

He says he feels sorry for me.

Coming from you, that means NOTHING.

He insists that I'm the one who initiated this shitstorm.

NO. My last message to you at 3:15 am said GOODBYE, M__. You're the one with Alzheimers, crazy OLD man. NOT ME.

He calls me a cunt.

I have a beautiful CUNT & you will NEVER see it again. THANK GOD.

He says he's glad about that, as if he wasn't the one harassing me to date him over the past year-and-a-half. At this point I'm into all caps because I sense he's faltering and his jugular's exposed.

AT LEAST WE AGREE ON SOMETHING. I HOPE YOUR COCK FALLS OFF & YOU ROT IN HELL. NOW FUCK OFF.

You'd think he'd back down, right? Walk away with what's left of his dignity intact? Uh uh - this fucker keeps coming back for more. His next insult's so lame I don't remember what it was.

YOU FIGHT LIKE A 12 YEAR OLD GIRL. PATHETIC.

Again he tells me to leave him alone, even though he's the one who can't stop responding.

I'M DONE WHEN YOU'RE DONE, BITCH.

He recycles more lame shit from before.

YOU'RE REPEATING YOURSELF. GET IT OVER WITH & JUST DIE ALREADY.

He tells me I'm no better than the shit clogging his ass. I'm officially bored with him and want to end it.

FINALLY YOU ADMIT THAT YOU'RE FULL OF SHIT. GOODBYE, ASSWIPE.

Is he done yet? No, not even close. He texts "Cunt" again. I fire back with something equally caustic that I know will set him off.

FAG.

Ha! I was right. He phones me - which of course - I ignore. I can't, however, resist listening to his message. He sounds tired - not irate like I expected - and tells me he won't let me drag him through the muck, as if I was the one who insulted him first, and then he crosses the line into bottomfeeder territory by intimating that my estrangement from my parents is a reflection of the kind of person I am. Well, sweet-Jesus-and-all-that's-holy, I really let him have it. (Backstory: he's mentioned before how much he spoils his kids - especially his son. If the young man - not child - so much as stumps his toe, Big Daddy Handout is on the next flight out before it's begun to swell.)

GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE, MOTHERFUCKER. YOUR KIDS DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU. AS SOON AS THE MONEY'S GONE, SO ARE THEY.

Silence.

FYI: YOU'RE THE ONE WHO STOOPED TO NAME CALLING. NOT ME. FINALLY YOU'VE MET SOMEONE WHO WON'T BE BULLIED & YOU DON'T LIKE IT. GOOD. SUCK ON IT.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

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Check and mate.

I win.
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