This little incident started at a party where there were a lot of good people. And then there was the host and hostess: Brad, the quintessential jerk and his wife, the trophy wife, who was really okay – when she wasn’t being the complete screaming bitch.
I used to work for Brad’s firm and had the good sense to leave it before either I killed him or I got fired. He, to this day, thinks I like him and I, for my own reasons, never corrected that false assumption.
Brad was throwing this shindig and it was his way of trying to show everyone how important and wealthy he was. It was for his associates (employees) and friends, real and imagined – probably mostly imagined, and was in the ballroom of a hotel. To a large extent, I think most of the people here were here to party with each other, have a good time, and have as little to do with Brad as they could get away with and not be obvious about avoiding him. That was certainly my case anyway. Not surprisingly, he and Keri (the trophy wife) showed up late: I assumed they were supposed to be making an entrance of some kind.
I only knew Keri well enough to know that I would love to get her in the sack and sure as hell wouldn’t ever want to live with her; you see, she had a bit of a temper. I had seen her screaming-bitch act on more than one occasion; fortunately, I wasn’t the object of her tirade on any of those occasions. Between Brad’s money and contacts, if he felt she had been wronged, he could make someone’s life miserable – something Keri traded on heavily when she wasn’t getting her way.
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