Thursday, June 15, 2017

Weirdly mustachioed ex-husband denies pug visitation rights

Getting divorced is so much fun! I wish someone would have told me how fun it was because I would have done it much sooner.

Just the other day, for example, my ex-husband (who is now weirdly and apparently un-ironically handlebar mustachioed) TURNED ME AWAY when I went to pick up my pugs for a visit.

Yes! Those two snuggly pugs that we legally share custody of. And whom I have not seen in three months. Who are the lights of my life. The whole reason, practically, that I came back to Seattle for a visit, smooshed between two huge dudes on a middle seat in a germ-infested aluminum tube.


They are the only family I have left in this city. And YET. My ex, the professional victim, decided to take his revenge on me for all evil I've wrought, by denying me opportunity to see my dogs.

Even for him -- an accomplished bully - this was a low and unexpected blow.

And yes. I thought of fighting back somehow.  Of calling the police. Of harassing him somehow. Of yelling and screaming and causing a scene.

But here's the thing. He has guns. A lot of them. And, at the moment, he's clearly full of self-righteous anger. He is, in fact, scary just to look at because the anger just pours out of him, infecting the air around him.

Turns him into this hard, flinty person and smothers everything that is soft and (yes) beautiful about him.

Yes, yes, I'm angry too! Everyone's angry in a divorce! You disappointed me too, you know!  But I deal with my anger in a healthy fashion! By crying and writing vicious blog posts and bitching to my friends and running off to Mexico! Not by being deliberately cruel!

So I did not chase him down or harass him or even write him a scathing text message. All I could do was call my lawyer and seethe.

Meanwhile, in his  anger-infested state, my ex is undoubtedly basking in his victory, feeling very smug that he both surprised me and deprived me of something I loved. That will teach her.

Not only that, he invited a friend over to witness the whole thing, some fat gun-freak looking guy named "Gil"  who looked on with prurient interest while my ex shouted down to me from his balcony and left me standing there empty-handed and stunned in the chilly Seattle twilight.

Yes, I can take him to court. No, I can't do it now because I'm only here for two weeks.

Is it worth it?

I don't know.

And yes, this divorce is sucking more than I ever imagined possible. Even though I'm well aware it could be MUCH WORSE.