I am very pleased with myself right now. Very pleased.
But before I begin gloating, I shall explain the events of the past day.
Once again about this whole business about Flez owing me money, I did as I said I would and continued the endless unanswered calls to his phone. I had made the subsidiary deadline of Monday, 7pm at which to call his mother if I had not contacted him by then.
7:03pm found me listening to Flez’s ringing phone.
7:04pm found me listening to his mother’s ringing phone.
Of course, his mother answered. Once again, I stated who I was, told her that I had called her the Friday before, and that I still have not managed to contact her son.
She said my name. (What? She did? Was it preceded by an expletive?) And said…
“He’s really busy, you know. He doesn’t live here anymore.”
Now please allow for a moment of silence in respect of the temporary halt in all of my cerebral and motor functions when I heard this.
Me: “He moved?”
I was stunned. I mumbled something about asking him to contact me as soon as he can.
Flez’s mom: “When I next see him (or did she say ‘contact him’? Maybe it was ‘hear from him’.) I’ll tell him you called.”
I did not like the sound of that you’re-not-very-important statement.
Me: “Okay. Well tell him, if I don’t hear from him by Tuesday night…”
Then I paused for several seconds, struggling for a clincher for that sentence. That sentence was really started with the intentions of being finished with…
“… I’ll tell his mother the reason why I’ve been trying to call him so much.”
But that would be silly. I looked to my cerebral lexicon for any way of finishing that sentence so that it would only sound like a threat to the person it was to be communicated to, but alas, my brain failed me.
I finally changed the sentence entirely.
Me: “Just tell him to call me by Tuesday night.”
Flez’s mom: “It’s that important?”
Me: “Yes.”
When I hung up the phone, I began to pace my room. Half of the reason I hesitated so long in mid-sentence was because I felt that this newly communicated piece of information was deserving of me bringing up the main deadline to that point. But I was not certain. I did not want to make a flippant decision that may have dire consequences. And besides – I figured my mother should be told before his. But I still was not certain.
So I paced my room. I wanted to think through a decision like that before I made it. But it was difficult, my heart was slightly accelerated, my annoyance had piqued, and my brain was racing.
So that’s why he was “too busy” to talk to me that Thursday evening.
But so busy he couldn’t spare me 2 minutes?
Still he promised that he would call me that night, and never did. Worse yet he never made himself available to take any of my phone calls.
Or my texts.
Or my voice mail.
Surely he could have spared 2 minutes out of his busy schedule to speak to me.
And where has he moved to?
He moved!
He fucking moved!
Why didn’t he tell me this?
Of course he wouldn’t tell me. I wouldn’t tell him if I was moving either.
If he has the responsibility to live on his own, why wasn’t he responsible enough to contact me and not keep me in the dark about the money?
What about if he’s actually renting a place?
That fucker better not have been intending to take money he would have paid to me to pay rent.
He could have very well stayed at home until he paid me off. If he wanted to rent a 5 bedroom beach house after that, he could go right ahead.
And finally Judge Tiragem came to a decision. In spirit of Paper 2.2, UK Corporate and Business Law, I must state that the Ratio Decedendi of this case was:
1. He should not have left me in the dark for so long.
2. He should not have made promises to call if he would not keep them.
3. He should have made himself available to take my multitudinous phone calls, texts, and voice mail.
4. If he has his own place now, he would not really be “disowned” by his parents.
5. He should fulfill his old obligations (paying me off) before undertaking new responsibilities (being responsible for his own place).
6. If he has the money to pay rent, and incur moving expenditure, he has $1,700 which rightfully belongs to me.
Any obiter dicta can be sourced elsewhere in this entry.
But first, I had to call my mother.
She took it extremely well, her only question was the same question that she asked me several times before when presented with surprising but relatively trivial information. And asked in the same tone, mind you.
Me: “Hey, Mom, I’m going out tonight.”
Mom: “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
And then she’d tell me to call her when I was ready to have my Dad pick me up.
That was her only question!
Why didn’t you tell me this before?
She approved of my informing his mother. She also promised not to tell my father. Goddamn, that was easy.
Telling his mother was even easier than telling mine. She just remained silent while I told her that her son had lied to her about getting $3,000 from his own personal “wealth” to finance the other half of his computer course fees. And when I finished by telling her:
“…so anything you could do to contact your son would be greatly appreciated…”
(I swear being an auditor helps).
She simply said:
“Okay.”
Without a trace of surprise, shock, or concern.
I hung up the phone wondering if I had over-anticipated her reaction.
“I’ll give it a week,” I thought, feeling slightly relieved for not having to make fruitless phone calls for at least 7 days.
Ten minutes later, I received a text from Flez.
“I will meet you Saturday about 3 o’ clock and give you your money. I am busy otherwise and that is the only day I have free.”
My sentiments can be appropriately communicated in 3 texts I sent Flez subsequent to receiving his:
“It’s absolutely amazing how i’ve been trying to call you since thursday with no luck, and i speak to your mother and you contact me in less than 10 minutes.”
“I don’t care how busy you were. You aren’t too busy to send a text or make a 2 minute phone call. I called, i sent texts, i left voice mails. No response.”
“Now answer your phone.”
But he never did.
The mere fact that his mother got through to him so fast, yet I could not (using my cell phone, my room’s phone, my home phone, my mother’s cell phone) means that he is intentionally screening his phone calls and avoiding mine.
If I had any regret, if I for once thought that I was too hurried in telling his mother, that was all gone.
Now please. Let’s not get confused here. This is not about revenge – for any of you sorry sods who thinks that it is. This is about frustration.
And like I said, I am very pleased with myself. Very pleased.