I play bunco. It's a dice game. Stop making fun of it, it's fun. Basically, a group of 12 women get together each month to play the game and have a good time. It requires a lot of skill and commitment and I kick ass at it. Okay so that is not entirely true. But it does require some commitment. I have been in my current bunco group for three years. These women are my heart and soul, some of my closest friends on the planet and I value each and every one of them for her own uniqueness. Yes that totally is too a word.
However, I got into bunco through a different group. We'll call them my starter group. My SIL invited me, and she got into it through a neighbor. It was a fun group, but other than my SIL, I did not know any of these women prior to joining the starter group. I was with this group for 5 years and I thorougly enjoyed it. I was closer to some of the women more than others, but I genuinely enjoyed going each month and looked forward to an evening laughing and talking with these women I had become friends with.
And then disaster struck.
I was hosting bunco at my house with my starter group three years ago. It was the first time I had hosted since I had moved and I was very excited for people to see my new house. The girls arrived, took a tour of the house, oohed and aahed and said really nice things. We ate and then played the game. This whole process took maybe three hours. At the end of the evening, as everyone was getting ready to leave, one of the women fell in my entry way. I have a small tiled step down about ten feet from the front door. She was carrying a box, couldn't see the step and just toppled over, twisting her ankle in the process.
We all gathered around her, trying to help her up, assessing the damage to her ankle, asking if she was okay, etc. She claimed she could not get up, but refused my suggestion to call an ambulance. Ubes carried her out to one of the girls' cars, and they whisked her off to urgent care.
I called her the next day to see how she was doing. She acted very strange on the phone, but told me she had a sprained ankle and a bruised knee. I asked her if she needed anything and she said no. But then she said that I might want to consider changing my tile. Excuse me? She said she fell because she couldn't see the step due to the tile being so uniform in color and the entryway being so poorly lit. I assumed she was kidding and started to laugh. I reminded her she was carrying a box at the time, and that I had assumed the box had blocked her view of the step. I figured her pain medication was making her delusional so I told her to call me if she needed anything and I hung up. Ubes and I sent her flowers that day. I felt terrible that it had happened in my home, and that the evening had ended the way it did.
A week later the woman called and asked if she could have my homeowners insurance information. She said she was on an 80/20 plan with her medical insurance and because she had fallen in my home, she felt I should be responsible for her 20% coinsurance. I was in shock. If she had tripped over a faulty tile or a bunch of toys, I would understand. If she had slipped on a wet spot on the floor or if a piece of my ceiling had fallen and knocked her to the floor, I would totally get it. If I had pushed her bony little ass to the floor and stepped on her ankle myself, I could see how she would expect me to be responsible. But she was carrying a box, misjudged the step and fell. She was trying to blame me because she was dumbass.
I gave her the information she needed. Two weeks later an insurance adjustor came to my home to interview me and take pictures of "the scene of the accident." During that interview I found out many inconsistencies between her story and what really happened. I was devastated. I could never in a million years understand how a friend could come into your home and take advantage in such a way. She was trying to file an injury claim. She wanted her medical and lost wages reimbursed, along with damages for pain and suffering.
Needless to say, I quit that bunco group. I couldn't run the risk of another person tripping over a dust bunny and filing a law suit. I realize this is one of the reasons we have homeowners insurance, but still. In my opinion she crossed the line. She saw an opportunity and took advantage of it.
Tonight, I stopped at Walgreens to get some decongestants for Uberman. The parking lot was packed, but I went in anyway. The line at the pharmacy was 15 people deep (yes, I totally counted), so I turned to leave. As I walked down one of the aisles toward the front door, I saw her. The woman who fell. She was standing at one of the endcaps looking at Christmas decorations.
I briefly thought about greeting her. I briefly thought about asking her how her family was doing, if she was playing bunco and still experiencing pain in that troublesome ankle. I briefly thought about telling her how I cringed every time a guest was leaving and how I constantly reminded people to watch the killer step that jumps out of nowhere. I briefly thought about telling her how I had changed all my lightbulbs in the house to fluorescents so it was no longer "poorly lit." I briefly thought about smacking her upside her overprocessed blonde head while threatening to sue her for mental anguish and remibursement for all that Pepto and Tylenol PM I needed during that ordeal. I briefly thought about kicking her weak feet out from under her and stomping on her other ankle so she would have a matching set.
But that's not what Jesus would have done.
So I turned the other cheek and walked out to my car hoping she hadn't seen me. And while I briefly thought about running my key down the side of her car as I crossed the parking lot, instead I prayed for her. I asked God to help her find peace and happiness to fill the gaping void in her ugly black heart. And then I asked Him to give her an excruciating case of explosive diarrhea right there in the middle of Walgreens.
And this is one of those moments where I truly want to believe God gives you the desires of your heart.