“So… you need revenge,” Joe surmised.
I tapped my nose. “Exactly. Something really big. I want him to be very upset.”
Joe nodded and thought about it for a second. “I know a guy with a vacuum truck.”
“What’s a vacuum truck?”
“It sucks sewage out of the ground. A poop truck”
“How is that revenge?” I asked.
“The hose pressure can go the reverse way. It can spit out the sewage it’s already collected.”
I slapped the counter. “Done! Deal! Let’s do that.”
“I’ve got black ski caps at home. We can wear those.”
Of course, I had no idea where Tight Tammy lived, but Joe did some research with her business name and found it. We dressed all in black, and we drove to her house at night. It turned out that Joe owned two pickup trucks in addition to his bike that he kept in a barn near his house. He drove us to Tight Tammy’s house, which was a large two-story home not far from my neighborhood. The lights were on inside, and as we waited for Joe’s friend’s poop truck to arrive, I decided we should snoop and see what they were up to.
Luckily, they were both on the first floor, and I got a good vantage point through a back window. I saw a lot of my furniture inside. It was disorienting to see it there, like maybe I had been living in the wrong house during the past few days, and actually, this was my house.
My house with Steve and Tight Tammy in it. Ugh. Steve and Tight Tammy. They were playing house. Playing house with my stuff. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“What are they doing?” I whispered to Joe.
“Your husband is cooking dinner at the stove. Tight Tammy is painting her toenails at the dinner table.”
I turned to Joe. “I’ve known Steve since I was a teenager. I’ve never seen him cook. Not even toast. Not boil an egg. Not microwave a Lean Cuisine. I didn’t even know he knew how to turn a stove on. How dare he cook for Tight Tammy? How dare he!”
“Now, she’s blowing on her toes to dry the polish,” Joe continued. “Now, he’s looking at her blow her toes. Now, he’s waving his hand in the air. Now the pan is flying. It fell on the floor. I think he burned himself when he watched her blowing. Now, he’s picking up the pan. Oh, he burned himself again.”
Joe turned to me. “Are you sure you need revenge on these people? They seem to be doing it to themselves.”
I looked through the window. Steve was running water over his burned finger. Then, he dried his finger and walked over to Tight Tammy, and stood behind her. He wrapped his arm around her and cupped her breast. Oh my God. He was touching her unnaturally perky breast. I turned back to Joe.
“Where’s that poop truck? I need that poop truck. Now. I need it now.”
“I think I hear it,” he said and took my hand. We crept around the house to the front, just as the truck appeared and parked in front of the house.
A large man with a blue ball cap hopped out. “Hello, Frank,” Joe greeted him and shook his hand. “This is my friend Eliza.”
“Hey there, Eliza. You’re the one with the jerk husband?” he asked and tipped his cap to me.
“The biggest jerk in the world,” I asked.
“My sister is married to a jerk,” he explained. “This thing that is about to happen happened to him. It was very satisfying. Not that this is happening now. I mean, it’s happening, but it’s not happening, if you know what I mean.” He winked at me. “I’m going to turn the vacuum on and cross the street to smoke a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke,” Joe said.
“I’m starting tonight. And I’m going to smoke in the other direction, so I don’t know what’s happening with my truck.”
“How do we use it?” I asked.
“Point the hose, and press theoutbutton.”
“Sounds simple,” Joe said.
Frank crossed the street and stood facing us with his burly arms crossed in front of him. “Let’s find the out button,” Joe said to me.
