Damaged Goods, Send Him Back

A favorite old song came on the radio today: Damaged Goods by Gang of Four.

This song embodies one of the most triumphant revenge scenarios of my young life. Not that I advocate revenge. In fact, I no longer believe in it. Nowadays, I just let things go. But at the time I was 21 years old and brimming with angst. Besides, I couldn't resist. It was just too perfect, as you will see.

The year was 1982. I was a senior at Montclair State College. I had a part-time job at The Bergen Record newspaper, writing a column (and occasional feature piece) for the Lifestyle section. That's where I met Mr. Cool. He was a full-time music reporter, a couple of years older. Mr. Cool was handsome and slick -- and as the pseudonym implies -- ever so cool. We flirted via the primitive in-house email system. When he finally asked me on a date I almost wet my pants.

We dated a few times and had some laughs. OK, ok, I'll tell the truth: we had some pretty heated make-out sessions. Things were looking up. That's when I learned about his ex-girlfriend, Miss Mouse. He swore up and down and sideways that Miss Mouse was ancient history. (That last sentence was an attempt at ominous foreshadowing).

The evening of our fourth date I sat at the edge of my bed, all dolled up, staring at the clock. He was 45 minutes late. I called him. He was home, alright. The creep had the audacity to tell me that he and Miss Mouse had just reconciled -- and tonight he was going out with her. In fact, she was there. And she was upset that I had called him.

"So if I hadn't called, you would have just stood me up?" I asked Mr. Cool.

Now here's the kicker. He said, "Yeah."

Bastard.

I grabbed a couple of girlfriends and went out dancing anyway. Screw him.

About a week later I was on the air, doing my Wednesday night show on WMSC. I always took requests. And guess who called me? Mr. Cool! He wanted me to play Stay by David Bowie and dedicate it to Miss Mouse. Of course I recognized his voice, but I pretended to be clueless.

What cahungas that guy had. First he stands me up -- with no apologies -- then he asks me to play a love song for his mousy girlfriend!

Yeah, right.

Instead I played Damaged Goods by Gang of Four. I thought it was more appropriate.

Lest you are unfamiliar with this song, the lyrics go:

"Your kiss so sweet
Your sweat so sour
Sometimes I'm thinking that I love you
But I know it's only lust ...
...Damaged goods, send me back...."

Heh heh heh.

Wait, it gets better!

Miss Mouse called the station to curse me out. But since I had only used their first names on the air, she had no proof that I was defaming anyone specific. Besides, this was college radio; who really gave a shit?

Am I a bad Buddhist for still enjoying that story, more than 20 years later?

Mr. Cool eventually married Miss Mouse. I didn't DJ their wedding.