Giving French Dude the boot

Last week, Boyfriend let me know that French Dude was going out of town for a few days. “HOORAY! We get our house to ourselves for a few days!” was my reply.
And it was glorious, so comfortable and easy. I loved every second of it.
Until Saturday, Boyfriend and I came home from the movies to find that French Dude was home and in the shower.

Drat.
After his shower, standing in a towel, French Dude approached Boyfriend and they were chatting. I was in the kitchen, getting things together for another outing that Boyfriend and I were going on. When I heard Boyfriend raise his voice.
He never raises his voice.
“Wait, you took WHICH bag??? The leather one?!?!?!”
Now, Boyfriend has had this particular leather bag for 15 years, it was part of his graduation gift from the school he attended. This bag is an $800 bag. It’s a nice bag. When he was moving in, I went to swing it around or something and he stopped me in my tracks, explained how expensive and special this bag was and I immediately handed it to him because I didn’t want to ruin it.
French Dude had seen that bag, FULL OF STUFF MIND YOU, emptied it out (dumped everything on the floor) and took it as his own bag when he went out of town.

He never asked to use it. He never even hinted that he’d borrowed it. He had made the point to text Boyfriend to tell ME that he’d thrown out the Ant Bait that was in his room and closed the door so I wouldn’t have “anything to stress about”. (Ummm yeah, I told him 5 times to keep that door closed so Puppy couldn’t get in and mess with the ant bait since you know, it could kill her!! I had to go so far as to PUT A SIGN ON HIS DOOR for him to FINALLY start leaving it closed. Ugh, jerk.) But never did he mention that he’d taken the bag. If he had, Boyfriend would have told him to guard it with his life. Frankly, if he had ASKED Boyfriend would have told him NO YOU CAN’T USE IT, HERE’S 1871223 OTHER BAGS IN OUR HOUSE YOU CAN USE INSTEAD but no, French Dude saw that beautiful leather bag, thought it was “the perfect size” and took it.
And then, it got stolen from him because the dumbass put it into checked baggage at the bus terminal.
French Dude had the stones to say to Boyfriend, “yeah, the bag got stolen. But don’t worry, nothing of value of mine was in it. But yeah, that bag was yours.”

I almost exploded.

Boyfriend couldn’t even speak, he kept trying to walk away from French Dude, who kept chasing after him like a moron.
I started shrieking like a howler monkey. French Dude looked at us like we were turning purple with pink polka dots.
He kept saying, “Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would get stolen.”
I tried to hammer home, “Dude, YOU stole it FROM THIS HOUSE!”
He didn’t get it. He said “I didn’t know it had so much sentimental value.”
My voice got even more shrill, “IT HAD VALUE YOU JACKASS! IT WAS AN $800 BAG! And you didn’t even ASK if you could borrow it!!! That’s THEFT!”
It wasn’t until I started tabulating what he owned that would be equivalent to the dollar amount. His watch, his computer, BOTH of his suitcases (WHICH WHYYYYYYY DIDN’T HE TAKE ONE OF THE TWO SUITCASES HE OWNED?? Because THE LEATHER BAG WAS BETTER LOOKING, of course!) all the clothes, the shoes and all the cash in his wallet; and it still wouldn’t amount to what that bag was worth.
He still looked confused. I lost it.

I told him to get out. To get dressed, pack his things and leave.
He started to argue, “I need to make arrangements, I need time.”
I grabbed my phone and set the timer, “You have 10 minutes and then I’m going to start throwing your things out the front door.”
That seemed to wake him up.
He was still trying to follow Boyfriend around and appeal to him, but Boyfriend was too livid to even look at him.
I started throwing the food that he’d purchased into a bag, he told me “I don’t need it” I told him, “Then throw it away yourself, I want NOTHING of you in this house. You broke our trust, you stole from us. I NEVER want to be reminded of you.”
I took the terrible paintings he’d been working SO hard on, and piled them on top of his suitcases once he’d packed them and moved them into the living room. He said, “I can’t take those with me.” I told him, “Nobody here wants your terrible ‘art’.”
His hand was shaking when he handed me the key I’d made for him.
I was comprising an email to his mother, I did my best to keep my head, but I did tell her that we’d had so many problems with French Dude for so long, this theft was the last straw. We can tolerate a lot of things, but the blatant disregard for even the simplest amount of respect, NOT taking what ISN’T yours; it was too much and we couldn’t allow him in our house any longer, so at 10 days shy of him leaving the US and returning home, we had to boot him out.

When he handed me the key, I looked him straight in the face and said, “YOU did this. We trusted you and tried to help you, and you betrayed us. You better make DAMN sure your mother pays for that bag or I will have you arrested at the airport when you try to board your plane for home.”
And frankly, I intend to.
Boyfriend and I tried to find that bag again, it isn’t in production anymore. Which made it even worse for Boyfriend.
I found two other bags, ranging from $907 – $1,675 and sent the mother the link.
She’s agreed to pay, she’s actually tried to negotiate the price down, but Boyfriend is being adamant. He wants $1,000. I want $1,675, but it wasn’t MY bag French Dude stole.
OH AND I JUST FOUND THIS OUT, apparently Paypal has been taking $20 for conversion costs every month the mother has paid for French Dude’s rent, so WE’VE NEVER BEEN PAID THE FULL AMOUNT OF HIS RENT! Man, if Boyfriend weren’t insisting on the $1,000 I would be even more mad.

After French Dude left for the last time (I shut the door in his face after tossing a few things he’d left in the guest room on the ground at him, and told him, “NEVER come back here”) Boyfriend and I talked for a long time.
“THIS is what you were talking about the whole time.” he said to me, shaking his head.
I tried really hard not to say “I TOLD YOU SO” instead, I opted for “I’m sorry babe, I tried to tell you.”
I felt relief knowing I’d never have to see French Dude again. Boyfriend probably will feel some relief when/if the mother pays.
Boyfriend also waxed nostalgic about his own life, how his mom had to bail him out more than a couple times and how it really helped “kick him in the ass” and get himself together. My parents have had to do that for me too, it’s all a part of growing up.

*****

Update: She paid.
Now I feel better. Boyfriend can get a bag that’s close to the one that was stolen, but it won’t be the same. And it will break his heart every time he thinks about it.
After Boyfriend got the alert that French Dude’s mom had paid the full amount; he called his own mom and thanked her for all she’d done for him. Bailing him out and making him learn the lessons he needed to learn.
And yeah, I might have fallen in love with him even more than I already am.
I think I won’t fully relax until it’s past the date that French Dude departs the country. I’m not scared of retaliation, really. But I know I’ll feel better when I know he’s not anywhere near me, Boyfriend or our home.

“Honey? We have to put pants on!”

After a short but panicked text from Pretty “Hat knows I’m leaving him”, my Defender side kicked into high gear and I shouted at Boyfriend “Honey? We have to put pants on!” “I really want to kick this guys’ ass!!” grumbled Boyfriend, “He’s making me put on pants!!”

We’d been enjoying our “last” Naked Day (where we can walk around the house as naked as we like) for a while, when the inevitable happened. Pretty made it clear that Hat knew and was not taking it well.

Understatement. Apparently the big trouble had started the night before, but it was so late that Pretty just decided it was easier to check into a Motel 6 than wake us up and sleep in our guest room two nights early. Bless her. Hat started shrieking at her about how she’d unfriended all of “his” friends on Facebook (I know, right?? Gimme a break. She was just trying to make it easier on THEM, that way they won’t have to feel conflicted.), becoming completely unreasonable and unhinged. So no, she wasn’t staying there.

The next day, she had told Hat to meet her at the bank, when he showed she handed him a check for his half of the tax return and either had his name removed from the joint account or dissolved the joint account altogether. Ballsy move, and genius!! 

Right there, in the parking lot, he came unhinged on her, AGAIN. Bringing up the Facebook thing (seriously, I want to smack him) and asking “What will they THINK?? How does it look??” …um, dude, they’ll think you’re a douche. The end!

Finally it came out that she wasn’t going to be living there anymore and that she wanted a divorce. I think he actually made her say the words. Like a challenge, if she couldn’t say it, she couldn’t do it. Buddy, she said it! He then started in about therapy and how they could go through his insurance (FIRST TIME HE’S ACTUALLY OFFERED TO ORGANIZE AND PUT FORTH EFFORT, PEOPLE!) and when she told him she’d been in therapy for a month, Hat lost his shit.  I’m not certain exactly what he said to her, but it was enough to make her lose her hope of an “amicable” separation and divorce.

When she came to our house, she looked ok. She and I took 6 steps outside the door towards her car to bring in a load of stuff and she broke down. I stood there holding her, weeping into my shoulder for I don’t know how long. It was heart breaking. She couldn’t put it into words. It made me want to skin Hat alive, VERBALLY of course. I’m really not one for the physical violence, I swear!

After we unloaded and she was laying down on the guest bed. She recalled the past few encounters. Her face crumpled a couple times, but she held herself together. I made her a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich and insisted she nap. Which she did. Hard, and for several hours.

Did Hat try and reach out? I don’t know. I wanted to give her some time to decompress and relax. Something she hasn’t been able to do for some time in a safe space. It’s been awkward in her own home for over 8 months, Pretty is exhausted. She did tell me that she’d told him “I’m safe” on Wednesday when he’d texted her to find out where she’d gone. She had zero intention of telling him she was at the Motel 6 down the street from their apartment; and she had the same amount of intention in telling him she’s living with me and Boyfriend. I can understand and definitely respect that. 

When she and I were talking before her nap, I told her that now that they have their own separate abodes, giving Couple’s Counseling a shot might not be the worst idea. At least that way they can say they did it and maybe maybe something might click in Hat’s head and he’ll realize how arrogant, self centered, selfish, short sighted a prick he’s really been.

But I’m not holding my breath.