Which is where some valiant gorilla of a policeman had found him, shitfaced drunk, slamming his full body against door whilst inside a tiny Japanese woman with a new born baby was struggling to defend herself. Now Boss ever after claimed it was police brutality (but if it were then it’s probably the only time I’ve ever agreed with it in principle) but the police report says that he attacked the arresting officer.
In any case it was a sequence of events which ended with Boss being crunched in the face with a police baton. Twice. He had flipped his shit at me because he had been hoping to ask (blackmail) the big client to pay upfront so that he had some funds to pay for his homelessness and forthcoming divorce proceedings.
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I received my bosses phone call telling him that it was time to move on and I would return his keys. I turned up at the appointed time – to find he wasn’t there – a common occurrence as I can’t remember a single point where he arrived on time for an appointment and where I came up with my revenge.
I was feeling pretty angry. I had built his business up. I had suffered massive anxiety looking for him. I had done what I believed was the best thing to do in the circumstances regarding his customer order and been screamed at for my efforts.
There was a leak in his roof. One of my duties was emptying the bucket it leaked into. I remember setting up a kind of Rube Goldberg style trap in that once the bucket was filled it would cause a sequence of events culminating in a large spanner falling right into the heart of the machinery powering his press.
I knew that he wouldn’t bother to check stuff so when he did finally turn up with his accountant and I returned his keys and signed some paperwork I was fairly confident that he was going to be either doing some serious repairs on his one and only press if not outright having to replace it.
I heard through the grapevine that he had been forced to sell the business and his press had been sold for parts. His wife returned to Japan from where I send and receive a Christmas card once a year. Boss I haven’t heard a whisper about in 20 years.
Looking back on the situation I probably shouldn’t have destroyed the guy’s press. It was his livelihood after all but I was young and my dander was up and if you are going to make impetuous mistakes it’s probably best to do them whilst young. Still it was all good experience. I think you learn more from fuck-ups than from success stories so it probably worked out quite well for me.
Since then I’ve made it a point to seriously vet my business partners including seeing how well they handle drink/and or drugs and their general attitude to relationships. I won’t do any business with people who can’t hold their shit together or who abuse their partners.
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Of course they understand it. They see you cry while you are together, and that does not bother them at all, so why would they care how you react once they go? The whole point of a narc relationship is for the narc to control you, undermine you, and preferably damage you for ever.