Eight years of marriage shattered in one quick breath when my husband Mike brought home his pregnant sidekick and KICKED ME OUT of the house. I packed alright, but what I unpacked was a revenge plot so brilliant and karmic!
Portrait of a sad young woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Tuesday evening when my life decided to go off the rails. I walked into our living room, tired from a long day at work, only to find a heavily pregnant woman sitting on our couch, eating chips.
At first, I thought maybe I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house.
But no, there was our ugly floral wallpaper that Mike insisted on keeping, and there was Mike, looking like he’d just swallowed a porcupine.
A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Michelle,” he said, his voice as casual as if he was asking me to pass the salt. “We need to talk.”
I stood there, frozen, my brain trying to compute the scene before me. The pregnant woman smiled awkwardly, her hand on her belly, looking like she was auditioning for a soap opera.
“This is Jessica,” Mike continued, gesturing to the human incubator on our couch. “She’s pregnant. With my child. It… it just happened. And we’ve decided to be together.”
A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I waited for the punchline. Surely, this was some elaborate prank for a new reality TV show. Maybe I’d win a car if I didn’t freak out?
But Mike’s face remained serious, and Jessica kept smiling that infuriating smile.
“Mike,” I said slowly, “what do you mean by ‘it just happened’? Did you trip and fall into her—?”
Mike had the audacity to look offended. “Enough, Michelle! This is serious. I think it’s best if you move out. You can go stay with your mom. Jess and I’ll take over the house.”
A serious-looking man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nope, still not a dream.
I was half-expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’d been Punk’d. But alas, no Ashton. Just my cheating husband and his very pregnant sidekick.
“Alright,” I calmly said. “I’ll pack my things and leave.”
Mike looked relieved, probably thinking he’d gotten off easy. Jessica’s smile grew wider, like she’d just won the lottery. Little did they know, the lottery was about to hit them back, and hit them hard.
A heartbroken woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I went upstairs, packed a suitcase with some essentials, and left without another word.
As I drove to my mom’s house, the shock wore off, and rage took its place. But this wasn’t just any rage. This was the kind of rage that makes you want to do something spectacularly stupid and incredibly satisfying.
The next day, I set my plan in motion.
First stop: the bank. I marched in there like a woman on a mission, which I was. I froze our joint account faster than you can say “cheating jerk.”
The look on the bank manager’s face when I explained why was priceless. I’m pretty sure he was mentally taking notes for his next novel.
A woman outside a bank | Source: Midjourney
Next, I visited a locksmith.
I remembered overhearing Mike tell Jessica they’d be gone for three days, giving me plenty of time to execute my master plan. It was like the universe was conspiring in my favor, and who was I to argue with destiny?
My next stop: my house. The same cozy house Mike and I once lived together, planning a future that was now a total trainwreck.
The puzzled locksmith probably thought I was crazy, cackling as I had him change all the locks on the house. I may have gone a bit overboard and asked for the most complicated, high-tech locks available. Hey, if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. And big.
A locksmith fixing a door lock | Source: Midjourney
Then came the movers.
I gave them the spare keys and scheduled them to pack up everything I owned, which was basically everything in the house. I even took the toilet paper. Let’s see how Mike and Jessica enjoy using leaves!
But the piece de resistance? Oh, that was yet to come. I had a brilliant idea that would make this revenge not just sweet, but long-lasting.
Toilet paper rolls in a basket | Source: Midjourney
I sent out party invitations. Lots of them. To Mike’s family, our friends, his coworkers, even that nosy neighbor who always complained about our late dog.
The invitation read: “Come celebrate Mike’s new life! Surprise party at our house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!”
A party invitation | Source: Midjourney
Then, I commissioned a billboard. Yes, a billboard. A huge one. It was delivered and set up on our front lawn, impossible to miss.
In giant, bold letters, it proclaimed: “Congratulations on Dumping Me for Your Pregnant Mistress, Mike! Hope the Baby Doesn’t Inherit Your Infidelity!”
I stepped back to admire my handiwork, feeling like a mischievous fairy godmother who’d just granted the world’s most ironic wish. With a satisfied smirk and a dramatic hair flip, I sashayed away from the scene, eagerly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.
A billboard outside a house | Source: Midjourney
The next evening, right on cue, my phone rang. It was Mike, and he sounded like he was having an aneurysm.
“Michelle!” he screeched, his voice hitting octaves I didn’t know he could reach. “What the hell is going on? Why are there people at our house? And what’s with this insane billboard?”
“Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound innocent. “Just a little housewarming party for you and Jessica. Don’t you like the decorations?”
“Decorations? It’s a freaking circus out here! And why can’t I get into the house?”
A startled man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, honey, you told me to move out, remember? You never said anything about you staying there. I just remembered that the house is solely under my name. So, I changed the locks. Oopsie!”
There was a long silence on the other end. I could almost hear the gears in his tiny brain trying to process what was happening.
“Where are we supposed to go?” he finally sputtered.
“Gee, I don’t know, Mike. Maybe Jessica’s mom would love to have you? I hear pregnancy hormones and in-laws mix really well.”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I hung up, feeling lighter than I had in years. But wait, there was more!
In the days that followed, I had the utilities cut off, canceled the cable, and made sure all our joint assets were transferred into my name. I listed the house for sale, making sure to mention in the listing that it came with a “bonus front lawn art installation.”
I had Mike served with divorce papers at work. I specifically requested the mailman to dress up as a pregnant woman. Just for funsies.
But the universe wasn’t done with Mike yet. Oh no, it had saved the best for last.
A man gaping in shock as he holds some papers | Source: Midjourney
A week later, I got a call from Jessica. Yes, that Jessica. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her.
“Michelle,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I mean, Mike told me you two were separated. And now… now he’s broke and homeless, and I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do!”
I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
“Well, Jessica,” I said, trying to keep the glee out of my voice, “I hear the circus is always looking for new acts. Maybe you two could start a juggling duo? You juggle the baby, he juggles his lies?”
She didn’t appreciate my humor. Tsk! Tsk!
Silhouette of a pregnant woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney
As it turns out, when Jessica found out that Mike was now homeless, broke, and the laughingstock of the town, she decided that maybe being with a guy who had no money, no house, and no future wasn’t such a great idea after all.
She dumped him faster than you can say “Karma’s a b****!”
Last I heard, Mike was living in a tiny apartment, trying to scrape together enough money to pay bills and feed his hungry belly. His family had cut him off, disgusted by his behavior.
They even sent me a fruit basket and a sorry card. I ate the fruits while soaking in my new jacuzzi.
As for me? Well, the house sold for a nice profit. I moved to a beautiful new place, started my own business, and adopted a cat. I named him Karma.
A woman with her pet cat | Source: Midjourney
So yeah, my revenge might have been a bit over the top. But let’s be real, bringing home a pregnant mistress and trying to kick me out of my own house? That’s not just crossing a line, that’s pole-vaulting over it and then setting the pole on fire.
In the end, I learned a valuable lesson: When life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade. Squeeze those lemons into the eyes of those who wronged you, and then sit back and watch them stumble around blindly. It’s much more satisfying.
And remember, folks: cheaters never prosper, but the cheated-on with a good sense of humor and a flair for the dramatic? Oh, we do just fine!
A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
33 Thomas Street: The Mysterious 29-Story Windowless Skyscraper in New York. What’s it use for?
In the heart of Lower Manhattan, an unusual 29-story skyscraper, devoid of windows, stands tall and mysterious. Its code name is Titanpointe, and it is located at 33 Thomas Street. This building has baffled New Yorkers for years.
The building, constructed in 1974, was designed to withstand atomic blasts and was initially intended to house vital telecommunications equipment. It was envisioned as a communication nerve center, fortified against nuclear threats, by the architectural firm John Carl Warnecke & Associates.
This imposing structure, a gray tower of concrete and granite soaring 550 feet into the New York skyline, remains, unlike any other building in its vicinity. Unlike neighboring residential and office buildings, it does not have a single window and remains unilluminated. At night, it takes on an eerie presence, and by day it casts a giant shadow, its square vents emitting a faint hum, often drowned out by the city’s bustling sounds.
For decades, 33 Thomas Street, also nicknamed the “Long Lines Building,” has captured the imagination of New Yorkers as one of the city’s weirdest and most iconic skyscrapers. But the true purpose of this enigmatic structure has remained largely concealed, shrouded in secrecy.
The Secret Behind 33 Thomas Street
Beyond its enigmatic exterior, 33 Thomas Street conceals a deeper secret. This building appears to be more than just a telecommunications hub. Evidence from documents obtained by NSA whistleblower Edward Snowden, along with architectural plans and interviews with former AT&T employees, suggests that 33 Thomas Street served as an NSA surveillance site, code-named Titanpointe.
The NSA’s involvement goes beyond mere speculation. Inside the building, there’s a major international gateway switch that routes phone calls between the U.S. and countries worldwide. The NSA is believed to have tapped into these calls from a secure facility within the AT&T building. This covert surveillance program has targeted not only international organizations like the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank but also numerous countries, including U.S. allies.
While AT&T has cooperated with the NSA on surveillance, few details have emerged about the specific role of facilities like 33 Thomas Street in carrying out top-secret programs. The Snowden documents, however, provide unprecedented insight into how NSA equipment has been integrated into AT&T’s network in New York City. This integration reveals the methods and technology employed by the agency to gather communications data from the company’s systems.
The NSA’s presence within this iconic skyscraper raises questions about the boundaries of surveillance in the modern world. As Elizabeth Goitein, co-director of the liberty and national security program at the Brennan Center for Justice, points out, “This is yet more proof that our communications service providers have become, whether willingly or unwillingly, an arm of the surveillance state.” The deep integration of the NSA within domestic communications infrastructure challenges the notion that such surveillance can be neatly confined to non-American targets.
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