I will cut a bitch. Seriously. Cross me and I will cut you.
There is not a woman out there that does not relish a chance for Retribution. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Crushing someone’s soul.
We all have frenemies. You know– women you work with or associate with that outwardly act as if you are friends, but you secretly plot to destroy each other. Why? Maybe you are jealous. Maybe she messed with your family. Maybe she is an amoral POS. Maybe she shat on your lawn. Who knows? Who cares? The point is, if that person crosses you– it’s on.
Perhaps it’s the drama of the situation. Both of you rallying your troops,
signing treaties, taking battle stations. This is all done very quietly. No one talks about it. On the outside, everyone seems cool. You might even go out as a group every so often. But dude, if that Hooker even looks at you sideways–she is gonna lose an eye Kill Bill style. I’ll make you look like Daryl Hannah. I swear.
The truth is, most women don’t get back at each another through physical means (unless you are on Springer or she really has it coming). Smart women like to take their time–and destroy a part of you. Some women like to go after a career. Others like to go after friends. I prefer to go after one’s reputation. All of these methods take careful time and planning. Why you ask? So that no one will ever know that you that did the destroying. You will have quiet satisfaction without looking like the vindictive tramp that you are. It’s a beautiful thing.
Let me give you a scenario. Just so you can understand how we work.
You work at an office. There are a few girls there your age that work on the same floor. You become friends. You go out on the weekends, gossip about everyone–you feel part of the ‘Club.’ Then– it goes South. You lost weight. You look good. You feel good. You start dressing better. People notice you. Suddenly– the Queen Bee of ‘The Club’ (who happens to be a fatty), starts hating on you behind your back. She is talking shit everywhere, except to your face. She’s cool when she talks directly to you, yet she starts to slowly exclude you from the group, while damaging your reputation.
What do you do? Whatever must be done. Remember when she told you about that guy she slept with that was married–and how they had sex in her office? Oh yeah. Remember when she told you about the drugs she did in college and still does on occasion? Check. Oh– and remember when she told you about the bisexual encounter with the girl downstairs? Ha. What a dumb-ass.
Rule #1: Don’t tell people your private biz. Duh.
Slowly but surely, these little tidbits start to make their way around. Everyone knows something different. Pieces fit together. Who said that? Wasn’t you. Play dumb. Stay away from everyone. Act as if you could care less and you don’t participate in such gossip. You have nothing to do with this. Now, she is the office tramp/junky/lesbo reject and everyone knows it. Objective achieved.
Women will never move on from something like this. That chick is History. Women can’t fight, then shrug it off and have a beer. Once you cross me– we are done. I might be nice to your face, but I’m thinking– “Try it hooker. Go on– smile funny. We’ll see what happens.” It’s constant battle within ourselves to maintain control.
I had a friend that once said “Men are stupid, but women are evil.” I didn’t truly get what he was saying at the time.
Perhaps this is what he meant.