One Bad Night, Twenty Years Ago.

Living back in Iowa (I grew up sixty miles from here) is kind of cool. I run into people I know from home pretty frequently here. I don't know why but it always makes me feel good when that happens, like I have roots here, which is something I guess I've never really thought about before. I went to a boarding school in high school and as soon as I graduated I went to the Army. After the Army I lived on the East Coast while I was in college and I was only back in Iowa for a few years for grad school before we moved to Texas. By then most of my close friends and family had moved out of the state... I'm rambling.... My point is I never really though much about having roots anywhere but it's interesting running into people I know because it makes me feel connected back to Iowa it reminds me that I have a history here.

The other day I was in my favorite local coffee shop standing in line to place my order when a voice I hadn't heard for close to twenty years spoke my name. I knew who it was in an instant --it sent chills down my spine, but not because I was happy to see someone from my past but because I knew I was about to be face to face with someone whom I fairly loath. It's kind of surprising to feel that way after all these years and to be honest I've had a hard time sorting out exactly why, but more on that in a bit.

Anyway, all of that is a somewhat odd, roundabout way to preface this story:

My friend Jim is more like a member of my family than a friend. In fact when I was away at boarding school he lived with my parents (his dad passed away his junior year and his mom had moved to Chicago to get a better job). Since second gra de we've been best friends; from then till now he's always been a major part of my life.

I know what you're thinking, what the hell does that have to do with the woman in the coffee shop? Well, the voice behind me in line was his childhood sweetheart Liz. Liz and Jim dated from the 6th grade until college. Exactly when the relationship ended is up for debate and it's part of the reason why I find hearing her voice so unnerving.

I guess this isn’t really uncommon as these kind of stories go. Jim was totally in love, totally committed to Liz, and for all intents and purposes it appeared that she felt the same about him. They were the quintessential high school couple, he was a star football player, she was the cute cheerleader. I don’t think they were prom king and queen but they would certainly have been in contention. All the same, shortly after graduation I began to hear rumors that Liz was, um, stepping out on Jim with some guy from another town. It eventually got bad enough that I mentioned it to Jim, he said he’d asked Liz and that she’d said she was faithful, and that was good enough for him. Shortly after that I headed to Basic Training, Jim headed to one college and Liz to another. And that was the last I considered their relationship for more than a year –and if I had any common sense the story would have ended right here.

But… Late the next summer I came home on leave. I had already heard from various sources that Jim and Liz and parted ways but on the ride home from the airport Jim filled me in on his side of the story. Seems Liz had hooked up with some frat guy at school that year and never bothered to tell Jim. When they both got back to town for summer break she matter-of-factly informed him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. Details were sketchy on what had ensued since then but what was clear was that Jim wasn’t handling things well.

He wanted allies, he wanted information and he wanted me to help. For my part, what I wanted, after 15 months of military schools was to eat some good food, drink a lot of beer, play some golf, sit by the pool and hopefully to get lucky a few times in the next couple of weeks before I had to g back to the army. But a friend is a friend, and so in spite of my reservations I found myself making dinner plans with Liz’s best buddy Martha the next night. The plan was that I would surreptitiously find out from Martha whatever I could about Liz. That turned out to be a lot easier than I had feared since Liz invited herself along.

I had dated Martha on and off through school, truthfully I probably would have looked her up anyway. And of course after years of her dating my best friend Liz and I had a lot of good history together. Sitting there eating pizza with the first friendly faces I’d seen for months I quickly abandoned my quest for info and resigned to tell Jim the truth, Liz has moved on, nothing is going to change that and that it was time for him to move on too.

And that was an excellent plan, but… Just as we were paying the bill and making plans to head to the next bar, Jim came into the restaurant and sat down by Martha and began quietly ranting at all of us. He was throwing ridiculous accusations around, at Martha and Liz and seemingly most of all at me. At first I’d felt sorry for him, it must have been a bitter pill to have to take, that the town where he and Liz had enjoyed their best times was now the place where she was no longer taking his calls. But as he ranted more I quickly lost whatever patients I had with him. It was a strange feeling, I had the thought even in the midst of all his going on, that for the first time since second grade I wasn’t on his side.

We sat there and took his abuse for entirely too long, I think perhaps we were in disbelief. Then, finally, as if we all simultaneously had the realization that we could leave, we got up and walked out. Jim followed us into the street, ranting louder, getting less rational and more accusatory as we went. Liz and Martha weren’t having any of it, they hopped in their car and drove off leaving Jim and me standing in the street.

If I had been a little older and a little wiser I could have seen where Jim was coming from. Maybe then I could have given him some sort of wise counsel or diffused the situation. But as it was I was young and impetuous and more than slightly annoyed at him, and so I told him exactly what I was thinking at that moment: “no wonder she left you.”

Again, if I had been older and wiser I would have had some idea what response a remark like that would elicit from a guy who had just spent the whole summer half-crazy with unrequited love. (But like I said, young and impetuous;) as it was I never saw it coming, As I was looking down the road at Liz’s taillights trailing away he blindsided me with a left that about knocked me off my feet. I remember thinking what short work I could make of this soft, drunk civilian in front of me, but instead I made the first and probably last good decision I’d made that night, I gave him a ride home.

Later on that night as I lay in my bed, fairly pissed at how I had spent my first night on leave and thinking what a moron my best friend was turning out to be, I heard a footstep on the back stairway. My first reaction was annoyance that Jim was coming over expecting to cry on my shoulder after all that, but I quickly realized that the footsteps were far to light to be Jim. Just as I was thinking that my evening was not at all a total loss and that maybe this leave won’t be so bad after all what with Martha dropping by like this --the door to my room opened and it wasn’t Martha at all… it was Liz.

I’d like to say that I hesitated, even for a second. I’d like to say that I didn’t enjoy it or that I at least felt some sort of remorse afterwards. I’d like to say that she didn’t spend the night and most of the next day… But if I were to be honest about it I couldn’t say any of that.

The first time I wrote this story I ended it differently. I went on to say that Jim and I are still friends and that after some consideration I realized that the reason I was so loath to see Liz after all these years was not so much that I had anything against her, but instead that she reminded me of something that I wasn’t particularly proud of.

But since writing it I’ve had several people who read it while it was still up there tell me that they didn’t understand what I thought I had done wrong.

I’ve been out of the dating pool for a long time now but I’ve always sort of believed that when it comes to friends and girlfriends 1. Unless she’s the girl you’re going to marry, your buddies trump your girlfriend any day. And 2. The cardinal rule of friends and dating is: you never date a friend’s ex.

So now I’m curious, bloggers, what’s your opinion? Was I wrong or is the old conventional; wisdom about never dating your friend’s ex just quaint, antiquated drivel?