Tell Me About the Most Entitled Person You’ve Ever Met

My girlfriend’s best friend threw me down the stairs and manipulated her into breaking up with me. He then tried to burn my house down and assaulted me, so I got him imprisoned.

I was discharged from Special Forces after a mortar shell injured my leg and back. At home, I reconnected with my high school sweetheart.

I was at her place one night when I woke up to someone climbing the stairs. I got up and pulled out my shotgun, and in response the guy screamed my girlfriend’s name.

Turns out he was her brother. Well, he wasn’t actually her brother, just a junkie who worked with her years ago and she once gave him a cheeseburger to help his come down.

He began pleading with her, saying he was evicted and needed a place to stay. Because this was her house I had no say, and she agreed to house him.

He was extremely disrespectful towards her during this time. He demanded she cook for him, do his laundry, and buy him groceries.

Well, one fateful night he demanded I wash his dishes for him. I told him to “fuck off” and turned around to walk downstairs and out of the apartment.

I was a few steps down when the door behind me flew open. He ran at me and pushed me down.

I landed on my back and hit my head on the concrete. He then jumped on top of me and I fought back.

I grit through and got on top of him, then proceeded to start wailing blows on him. I honestly didn’t care if I unived him.

Someone had to die and it wouldn’t be me. But then my girlfriend saved his life.

She heard the yelling that was happening downstairs and she came running and found me on top and wailing down blows on him over and over. She screamed for me to “get off” and I did.

As soon as I did his mouth started running. “Sister, he threatened to un alive me and he attacked me and threw me down the stairs because I asked him to bring back the PS3.”

I honestly thought she might believe him for a moment, but thankfully she knew that was lies. The neighbor’s security camera outside backed that up.

That morning I took her to work. I took her three-year-old daughter to daycare.

One thing I need to mention is that my girlfriend had a three-year-old daughter whose dad wasn’t in the picture and she was the sweetest and most adorable little girl ever. Anyway, after I took her to school I went to work.

I had to explain to my boss why I had bloody knuckles and why I was holding a cold pack to the back of my head. They offered to call the police so I could press charges.

I told them “no.”

My boss damn near ordered me to call the police or he’d put me on medical leave. To which I replied that “I’d rather be on Med leave than lose my girlfriend for calling the cops on her brother.”

It was made clear to me under no uncertain terms that I am a particularly stupid kind of eye hole and that that would come back to bite me in my butt someday. Well, he was right.

Basically, brother gave her an ultimatum that either I leave and she dumped me or he leaves and walks out of her and her daughter’s life. To be fair to my ex, that loser had been the only constant male figure in her kid’s life since she was born, so that would have been devastating for the gremlin and she wanted to spare her that kind of pain.

And so that meant I got the axe. Honestly, I’d have rather taken an actual axe to the heart because what I actually felt was way worse.

It’s one thing when you’re saying goodbye to the woman you love, but to have to also say goodbye to a sobbing little kid you wanted so much in your heart to adopt and make your own. I don’t want to meet the man who can hold back the tears from that; that man scares me.

I went back to my apartment. I put together a little box with the toys and keepsakes and clothing items they’d left behind and waited for the right time to bring it by her work.

I was a broken man, but that little fucker, he wanted to kick me while I was down. He had mentioned a while ago he had friends who would kick my butt if they ever got the chance and I always thought he was bluffing.

Well, he wasn’t bluffing. He did have some friends with wrap sheets and bad intentions and in the months that followed her and I breaking up, he put them to work.

I woke up one morning to discover my car had been blocked up, the wheels taken off, and they had spray painted stuff on my car after busting out my windows. What my insurance didn’t cover cost me $2,500 in repairs.

Police were called and a report was made. Surveillance footage was useless though, as faces were covered and they wore gloves so no prints.

It’s not like they’re rolling out the CSI to collect hair follicles off the deck for auto vandalism. Two weeks later, an attempted arson attack on my front door occurred.

Someone wearing a mask and a hoodie lit a Molotov cocktail and threw it at my front door’s welcome mat. If it weren’t for the apartment’s fire sprinklers actually working, my apartment would have burnt down with me in it because I wasn’t jumping from the third floor balcony.

That was a more serious crime. Cops were very interested in solving it, but again, no usable prints and faces were covered for the camera.

Then it was quiet for a month. My ex had reached out to me when she heard about the fire and I told her I knew it was her brother, but I didn’t have any proof.

She said she’d say something to him and coincidentally nothing happened again for a while until I guess cops came around asking to talk to him because obviously I gave them his name as a person of interest.

In the month and some change since our spat, she basically forced him to find some kind of work or she was going to kick him out. So he had gotten a part-time gig at an auto shop in town that had a rep for being the one you don’t go to but fine to recommend to someone you hate.

They cut corners everywhere they could, so it was a perfect job for the weasel. At least until the cops came looking for him one day asking about that fire.

The owners didn’t like having cops asking about their employees. Since he’d only been there a week or two, he got the boot.

He deeply appreciated that. So one night I am getting home from work.

I had stopped at the gym on the way, worked up a good sweat, and got a bite to eat from the grocery store. I pulled into my spot in my Enterprise rental, my car was still in the shop, and walked into my apartment real quick.

While I was over 21 and legally owned guns and had a concealed carry permit, on days where I was on base I did not carry my pistol. It’s incredibly rare for anyone whose explicit job description doesn’t include carrying a pistol at all times to be allowed to carry a weapon on base.

Since I’m not leaving a pistol on my car and there weren’t any places to securely store a weapon while I was working, I just opted to not take my gun with me. It’s also why I did not have a pistol on me the morning brother jumped me.

I was unarmed. I lived on the third floor, there was a fourth floor above me, and stairs leading to it.