For me, sometimes having a specific event to write about gets me writing much faster than sitting on my bed at the end of the day, thinking about what I should record in my journal.

This was written to submit to the Sweet Revenge Anthology, and though they are no longer taking submissions, I thought it would be fun to share a journal writing idea.

Take the opportunity to write about an incident you remember in your life when you had a sweet revenge. I don't promote the revenge business, but as a young adult, I sometimes deemed it necessary to take action, as you will read:

Wet By the Seat of His Pants

Working on a golf course over the summer break during my college years, proved to be more than a job of "cutting greens". There were 21 of us college students there to cut and care for the fairways, lawns, and greens of the golf course. We were divided into three groups—one group for each nine holes. My friend (who was also my roommate) worked with me during this time. Among the 21 of us, there were only us two girls. We were really happy to be there.

After a couple of weeks, though, familiarity set in, and practical jokes abounded. On one occasion, I found a snapping turtle in my locker, and my lunch hidden in another. This went on for quite a while. Every week, there seemed to be some joke pulled on one of us. I thought it was funny, and took it in stride until one day, one of the guys dumped grass cuttings from the greens cutter (1/4-inch pieces of grass) all over the inside of my car.

That was it, I thought, I could not take it anymore. Not only did it take a long time to clean the grass out, but every time I drove on the Interstate with the windows down, grass seemed to come out of every nook and cranny. It was on a Friday afternoon that I snuck up to the car of the perpetrator, and dumped a bucket of water in the driver's seat. this guy loved his Camero more than his girlfriends, and I just ruined his weekend for him. Although I was nervous when he drove by, he didn't say a word about it.

Monday morning came too soon. The guy with the wet car seat came up to me, smiling. Was he angry or happy with me? He told me he had a date Friday night when he had to use his car. It didn't seem to matter how many towels he used to soak up the excess water—the seat of his pants were still wet, and looked like he had a bathroom accident throughout the whole evening.

Sweet revenge for me.