Abigail M. Schilling

In Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (the movie) Harry gets unfairly expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Uncle Vernon, hater of all things Harry, proclaims, "Justice!" It is a poignant moment; a moment when you no longer hate Vernon for the way he's treated Harry, but instead you laugh at him. Oh, silly Vernon, you and your victory dance. Vern, did you really think Harry would end up outside of Hogwarts?

I have become Vernon Dursley.

Last week, I found a really great sleeping bag on Craigslist for a really reasonable price. It had been posted for over a week so I figured it had been sold already, but with optimism guiding me I emailed the seller. Cole emailed me back almost immediately. The bag was still for sale, he would be out of town until Monday. Could I wait?

Of course! I started planning my future with the red sleeping bag. I looked it up on Amazon and memorized it's measurements. I thought of names for it. Would it be too much to name it Cole?

Cole emailed me Monday per the plan and we scheduled a meet-up for Tuesday night. He would get back to me about where to meet him, he said. The next I heard from him? Tuesday afternoon. The email?

"Sorry, I sold the bag at lunch today."

I was furious. That bag was mine. We were never vague in our discussions. He had every opportunity to tell me I was one of many potential buyers. And yet he didn't. He strung me along, made me believe me and the bag could be happy, and then snatched my dreams out from under me, leaving me with only the cold, hard ground to stand on. I wanted revenge, I wanted justice but it was Craigslist, not eBay and so I couldn't give him a poor seller rating. I couldn't leave a negative review. I had to sit and stew.

And stew I did. I stewed and I stewd and then, with all the justice I could muster I emailed Cole back.

"Cole, you are an asshole."

Send.

Who does that? Seriously? WHO DOES THAT?

I justified it by saying it was a totally acceptable means of behavior because he was an asshole. And how often in life--aside from break-ups and conversations with your rear view mirro--do you get to tell people they are assholes? Not very often. So I sat in my victory and stewed some more. Cole didn't email me back. He didn't apologize. He didn't offer reparations. He didn't change the past. He was a dud of an asshole.

And me? I was just Vernon Dursley. A lame victory dance and a big spoon and the whole world laughing.

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