The High Road

A couple weeks ago someone sent me an angry email. The email was based upon some incorrect assumptions she made and was the next illogical step after I didn’t return her phone call. Worse yet, the email was rife with misspelled words and incorrect grammar.

Now I am no grammar-nazi, as I’m sure you can gather from my previous posts. That said it isn’t terribly difficult to press the F7 key, or as she would write, "it ins't teribly difficut to press the 7F kye."

But this blog entry isn’t about an ex-friend’s diction, syntax, and imagery issues. It’s about my response to her email.

I sent it to my friends. Two in particular: one who dislikes her more than I do, and another good friend who has never even met her. I even added a note professing my intention not to respond with an angry e-reply, but to “take the high road” and ignore her.

Upon further reflection, it occurs to me that taking the high road does not include e-gossip. For a half a second I felt bad.

Yes people, just a half second.

For then I began to remember why I hated said person. Wait, let me recall those memories again.

Sigh, now I feel better.

Also, it occurs to me that this isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done. It’s probably not even the worst thing I did that week! Which begs the question: what’s the worst thing I’ve ever done?

While this is difficult to answer because memory and self-preservation work together in a wonky way, I’d have to recall a slumber-party prank from 1988. My friends and I were making crank phone calls. In the middle of the night, I called the home of a girl who I didn’t like. She had a high school-aged older brother who was in a serious relationship with the head cheerleader. I called and pretended to be the girlfriend of her brother. Since it was 3am and I was fake-sobbing the mother seemed to believe me. I asked to speak to the brother, and when his mother told me he wasn’t home, I said I was pregnant and needed money for an abortion. The mother responded by saying, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry” and said she would give him the message.

I’m not sure what happened after that, but I heard the two broke up. I would love to believe that their break-up had nothing to do with my slumber party prank, but there’s really no telling.

I admit what I did was pretty bad. In my defense I was 11 years old. But ultimately I know that if I am ever standing before St. Peter at the pearly gates, that episode, along with my non-belief and other examples of my horrible person-dom, will be at issue.

Now that I’ve thrown down a challenge, what say you?

What is the worst thing you’ve ever done?