Heather had stolen my phonecard and racked up almost three hundred dollars on it

In November of my second year at Western, I was living with my roommate, Paulie, and my new girlfriend Heather.

One day, the bakery where Paulie worked closed down. He decided to take a trip to a casino up north to see about adjusting his fortunes.

They were adjusted, all right--Paulie returned with hardly a penny to his name. He decided to move in with his mother for awhile, and to replace him we allowed Heathers's friend Elisa to move in.

Excitement became commonplace with Elisa around. She was one of those hyperactive girls who always seemed to have more boys around than I had friends.

About two weeks later, I was home alone on Thanksgiving. My car had broken down for good that summer, so a trip to visit my family up north in Grayling was out of the question.

Sam, a friend whose mother lived nearby in Coldwater, offered to take me there to celebrate the holiday with them, and I was giving it some thought. In the meantime, I was wandering through the house performing odd tasks. On what must have been my fifth trip to the bedroom, I spied a book on our bed. I had seen the book lying about many times, but had no idea what was in it. "This book has been lying here for three days!" I exclaimed to myself, and opened it, demanding to know what it was.

My eyes lit upon a narrative in which my girlfriend was performing oral sex on a guy named Kyle, one of Elisa's "boyfriends," while I was at work one night. Oh, so it was Elisa's journal! I threw the book down and went to gather my thoughts.

Leaving the house, I walked to Sam's apartment to ask his opinion on whether he thought this account to be true. After a moment of reflection, he related something which had happened a couple weeks prior to this. He had been in Coldwater to see his family, and was talking with his ex-wife. He asked why she wasn't with her boyfriend, JT, at which point she broke into tears.

She then told him that JT (who was, among other things, Heather's ex husband) had started seeing Heather again on weekends, and that was the reason she was not with him. Sam wasn't sure this information was correct, so he had kept quiet until this new development came to light. He told me his opinion succinctly: "all parties are guilty."

Going home, I began consulting the old phone bill. After calling the phone company, I learned that Heather had been calling JT at the factory where he worked. So, "going to see family" on weekends, was it?

Well, all this was a bit more than I had bargained for. I was minding my own business, ready to spend a quiet holiday, and now this.

I grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and hurled it to the floor. I then proceeded to vent my wrath on the entire living room.

A few minutes after the job was done, Sam dropped by. He looked at my handiwork with surprise and approval. We then lit cigars amid the carnage, using the floor as an ashtray.

I called Heather at her sister's house, where she was staying. "We need to talk," I said.

"About what?"

"About Kyle--and JT."

"What about?"

Playing stupid wasn't going to do anything to improve her position. "Okay, so it's like this. If you like, I can have all of your things packed by the time you get home."

"Yeah, pack my things."

It was then that Sam decided that I was going to Coldwater with him whether I liked it or not. I was in no mood to object.

I had no alcohol in the house, but I had a pack of cigarettes I had bought for Heather; I knew she would smoke them all if I gave them to her right away, so I had been saving them since I had to budget our money. Well, they were mine now, and though I had until then smoked only cigars and a pipe, I began smoking the pack. By the time the weekend was over, I had become adept at chain smoking.

I might have wished it to end with Heather picking up her personal effects, but she was always one to inflict the maximum amount of carnage. I got to learn about two more of her "indiscretions," one of them with my now-ex roommate Paulie. He was a scoundrel.

I began wondering how many pairs of horns I could fit on my head. As if this weren't enough, while picking up her things Heather had stolen my phonecard and racked up almost three hundred dollars on it, which I didn't learn until the next phone bill.

I can't fault her for lack of thoroughness. At least she left my house still standing. I think that all I got from her in return was a taste for Camels and Nine Inch Nails. Thanks for that.