It all started back in '96 when I got dumped again. It seemed to be a pattern....I'd meet somebody who would come on real strong, then all of a sudden they'd be gone. Hasta la vista, baby! But with this one, he'd given me an engagement ring and loooooved me sooooo much, you know the game. So when he disappeared for a couple of days, I freaked. Naturally, he ended up leaving me hanging, just like all the others, so there I was. Only this time I still had the ring! (which I later sold and paid my daughters tuition).

As usual, I went through the same thing as before. A period of shock, denial, (never acceptance), then of course, 'sort of' moving on. I ended up joining a singles recovery group at a local church. Actually, it was a divorce recovery group but I figured I'd been jilted so many times I should REALLY fit in. It was at this "begining again" class that I met my soon-to-be 'running buddy', a partner in crime, someone to pal around with who was just as angry as I was. Tami became my new best friend. We talked to each other every day, attended all the singles functions and literally became 'joined at the hip'. She was newly divorced and sympathetic. so we were a good fit.

Well, it was near Halloween. Our singles group was having a costume party. Was gonna be a big thing with lots of people. So me and Tami decided we wanted to live up to our "bad girl" image. I dressed like a lady Rambo, she was the leather Biker chick. I mean, we looked BAD, meaning good! Ho baby, we were cool, or so we thought. Anyhow, when Tami arrived at my house, I told her, "Okay, we're gonna throw road kill on Jack's (the dude who dumped me) porch tonight..."

"What? You're kidding, right?", she replied.

"Nope, I'm not kidding", I stated, " it's now or never."

We'd previously discussed throwing her daughter's dead boa on his porch on another night when we'd been out drinking a few pitchers of beer. Ended up laughing till we nearly peed in our pants, but we didn't go through with it. I'd decided long ago I was gonna do it, so I knew tonight was it. Since I wasn't driving that night, I killed a couple of wine coolers. We left my house in Tami's car and sure enough, before we'd gone a mile down the road, there was fresh road kill! A nice, fat possum, still intact with it's mouth wide open. Cool! We cracked up laughing as we both spotted it at the same time. Tami pulled over, I got out, went to the trunk (where I'd conveniently thrown in a shovel, plastic bag, and leather gloves) and took out my tools of revenge. I scooped it up with the shovel (dang it was heavy!), plopped it in the bag, and tossed it in the trunk. We laughed the whole way to the party.

We had a good time at the function, mostly because we knew we had a secret in the trunk of Tami's car. We'd picked up a couple of other friends on the way and they couldn't believe we had dead road kill in the trunk. The party was fun, lots of food (no alcohol, it was a church oriented function) everyone was dressed up. It didn't take too long, though, for us to get the 'itch' to leave and take care of business. So off we went!

 By this time, I needed to kill a few more wine coolers.  So I gulped em down before we drove to the 'possum throw' location.  Jack, the dude who dumped me, lived in a rural area.  It was about midnight when we got to his road.  We pulled over about a mile from his house while I got the possum out of the trunk.  Dang, it was heavy! 

By that time, I wasn't caring too much how heavy it was.  My adrenlin was pumping fast and we were both near hysteria.  We drove past his house to scope out the situation.  Rats!  Every light in the house was on!  Even the front porch light!!  How was I gonna get the possum on the porch without being seen?  In the meantime, I was hanging out the window holding a dead possum in a bag.  We made a few more drive-by's when I decided I'd just have to throw it.  As we headed down the home stretch, Tami driving and laughing, saying, "Oh my gosh!! I can't believe we're doing this..!" I reached into the plastic bag to grab the possum.  Good grief!  I couldn't get a good hold on it!  I groped for the tail.  Tami's trying to drive and laugh, while I'm shouting, "I can't find the tail....!  I can't find the tail..!  Slow this car down so I can find the tail...!"  

I reached far into the bag.  Ugh!  I could feel the possum's bones.. was that his hip bone?  I had the leather gloves on, so it was hard to tell.  Then, I HAD IT!   The tail!  I pulled it up just as we approached his house again.  Darn, it was so heavy I could barely hold it up!   I gave one good swing and let fly with the possum.....whoosh!  It sailed a couple of feet then landed in the ditch!  Curses!  Rats!!  There's no way I could go back and collect the carcass without being detected by the neighbors.  What a disappointment! 

How could I have failed?  And worse, I didn't have the nerve to go back and do the job right!  So we decided leave it and go on.  After all, what good would it do?  It just looked like another road kill.  I wanted it to look deliberate!  So my life went on anyway.  We shared a lot of laughs that year re-living the possum incident.  What a night!  It just goes to show you, revenge never pays.  How would I have ever known that a dead possum could teach me a lesson I'd never forget? 

Not to mention 2 years later.  I came home from work one day to find 4 dead possums in my yard.  My dogs were standing by grinning mischievously, looking proud for having drug up so much road kill.  And what did I do?  I remembered the night of the possum and thought, " Yep, bad karma always comes back to haunt you...!"  This I know!