A man I was absolutely besotted with dumped me because he didn't
"want to be in a relationship". I was devastated.
A couple of weeks later, my best mate asked me if I'd mind if she went out with him, and I told her too fucking right I would.
A few days after that, I had to go to work very early and, due to road works, took a detour that took me past best mate's flat. His (very distinctive) car was parked outside at 6.30 am, he lived several miles away.
I pulled over a little way up the road, feeling sick and heartbroken. I wanted to go and smash his car to bits but had no tools in the car, just some paintbrushes I'd bought on the way home the night before...
and a bottle of brake fluid, because of a slow leak in the master cylinder.
I painted the word "cunt" in brake fluid, in foot high letters on the expansive, immaculate boot lid of his beloved, late 70's, Audi 100S coupe.
Neither of them ever mentioned it, although it's fair to say I did my damnedest to avoid them over the next few years.