Flaming Hot Envy

The Italians have a better word, and better artwork to describe envy, they call it invidia.. Literally it means to “watch too closely” (at what others have). Am I so perfect as to never feel it? No f'ing way! It's one of the Seven Deadly Sins and I've committed this regularly. 

There she is. Depicted as a sick, ragged women with the snake of bitterness, devouring her own heart with a demon floating around her head to egg her on. Gotta love Medieval artwork.

The most heart wrenching envy I have felt occurred in a bar (Yessss...i know...many of my stories occur near or in bars) that was on Mineral Spring back in the late 80's. It was called Rolls Touring and it was a tiny place, barely enough room for 30 people. But because it was small it fostered an intimate behavior with the patrons. You had to get to know one another. The other nice perk to it was the fact they were one of the first places to have beers from all over the world. I managed to try, at least once, every beer from every country. Hint: Do NOT drink any beers from France, they are clueless on how to make it.

Anyways, I have to diverge and tell this little story first so you'll understand my own invidia.

We all have enemies, or people we can't stand. For most of you, that's other family members! For me, it was Keith Barnett, a nice Anlgo, white as mayonnaise name, ain't it? He and I did NOT get along. For some reason, and I can't discover the first time we started carping on one another, we became incredible competitors. Ah, these things get their start and then snowball down the hill. We competed over grades, schoolyard games, cliques and probably over belly button lint. The problem was this, this son of a bitch would outdo me by one inch, one more point, one more goal, and by one more thread of dust in his belly button. There were occasions I bested him but the cumulative score was always, “a dollar short.” It was an organic competition. We never set out to consciously do it, it was so ingrained in the both of us that we automatically, without thinking, contend with one another.

He was full of it too. He would waste no time in mentioning where he lived (CountrySide). What his Dad did for a living (Pediatrician) and the fact his shoes were better than mine. The kid would blow his own horn as loud as he could.

“I know your Dad works at a (add sneering contemptuous voice) bank. MY Dad has his own practice in Providence!”

We never fist-fought. I wonder why? I guess smashing his smug face with my fist would've always gotten me into trouble, even if he fell on it by accident and there were witnesses. Keith was the good boy, I was the bastard (according to some teachers).

We graduate high schools and we never see each other again. I later hear that he became an engineer and had a business in Cumberland. The gossip proved to be right for once. I saw his engineering firm on Mendon Road in Cumberland while driving by it once.

**

Flash forward to 1988 when I was hanging out at Rolls Touring. We had adopted this place during college and I wasn't about to give it up afterwards, even after we all graduated and were slowly drifting apart. Our college crew, most of us, would meet every Wednesday or Thursday to polish off the beers and have fun. This lasted a year or so but like all of life, we get pulled in different directions. It was fun while it lasted. I don't regret it all as I have great memories of it.

At that bar, they had hired a pretty girl I'll call Michelle. She was my age and I thought drop dead beautiful, even though she was just slightly pudgy. No matter, that face is what got me. I was hooked at the beginning. My extended stay at Rolls beyond when our crew had drifted apart was due to her.

She sort of looked like this chick, nearly so at least. How can you ignore that face? 

I worked on her for a few weeks. I knew enough not to go too hard as all female bartenders get hit on regularly so I toned it way down. I come to learn she was a professional photographer, fairly rich due to her parents and educated. All pluses! You know, she could've been covered in mud and had credit card debt of $34,000 and I'd still chase her. Those rare occasions when a face stuns you, you throw all logic out the window.

I also learn to my heart's dismay that she had an on again off again boyfriend. The relationship wasn't the best so I figured I may, may have a chance at this if it all went to hell. I bidded my time for moment to pounce.

One day, as I was sitting there talking to her, she mentions, with some joy that her boyfriend asked her to marry her. “OH FUCKIN' SHIT” I thought. Well, as the minutes went by, I realized that I lost nothing anyway, except some nice dreams that cost me zero. Still, it was a sting.

She goes on about how she and her boyfriend had finally realized they were meant to be together and all that. I nodded along to the ugly news.

She keeps talking of her boyfriend when I hear, “I drove up to Keith's place in Cumberland...”

In my head I come to a complete full stop. She said “Keith and Cumberland.”

I had to know...

I then said, “Keith?”

“Yeah, Keith, the guy who I'm gonna marry...he has a business in Cumberland...anyway, I drove there last night...”

“Barnett?” I ask.

“YES! You know him! Wow! Rhode Island really is tiny! How do you know him?” she asks.

I tried, I really tried as best as I could NOT to show any reaction on my face. I really tried. I think I managed to succeed as she didn't change her behavior to me in anyway.

I swear I could hear Joe Pesci's angry voice in my head when I thought this:

“You mutha fuckin' rat! YOU get to fuck her!!??” I swear too, that that thought was SO loud, Michelle and the other patrons there could've heard it. It was loud enough in my own brain!

Then the damn walls burst and all I could feel was envy, waves of it, a raging hot river of envy roaring down into the valleys of my heart, drowning all that was there. It really was overwhelming. How I managed to hide it all was a miracle I think. Ah, we all put faces on in public, don't' we. But keeping that mask on my face was a bit hard when I heard that news. The only other time I may have felt that envy was when I was 15 and new to the dating game. I had a young teen's puppy love when I saw my puppy being taken away. That misery lasted all of a day or so. The Barnett revelation felt worse because of our competition.

I then hoped to God and all the Angels in the Choir that she did NOT know my last name, lest she should let it slip to Keith that she knew me, knew I was hitting on her and all that. God...that would've been the final dagger in my back.

I finished my beer, paid the bill, said goodbye and got into my Renault piece o' shit and sat there for a few minutes, still hot with envy. I think it took a good week for it to dissipate. Had this been just another girl who said “No” to me, that would've been different. That kind of sting is short lasting....but to add a Barnett to the equation...Wow!

The last time I felt envy, for a few seconds at least, was last Saturday. I was on my way to work and saw my neighbor tanning himself on the lawn. That kind of envy was much easier to take.