I should have seen the red flags (with the white stripes).
In hindsight, it was definitely odd how often her work was requiring her to travel to exotic locations, but I was never suspicious.
One night, she Face-Timed me from her hotel room to tell me that she was going to be stuck in Cancun for the weekend. I offered to visit, but she said it’d be pointless since she’d just be working the whole time.
Before she hung up, something caught my eye. In the background, resting on her bed was a red and white striped beanie. A beanie that seemed strangely familiar.
“Babe, what’s that hat?” I asked.
“What, this?” She grabbed it and showed it to the camera, “My co-worker left it at the restaurant so I grabbed it for her.”
“Oh ok.”
I didn’t press her any further, and we said goodnight.
But the beanie wouldn’t leave my mind.
First, her story didn’t add up. Why would anyone be wearing a beanie in the summer heat of the Yucatan Peninsula?
And secondly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen that hat before.
Later that night she posted a photo of the beach on her Instagram. I analyzed the photo, double tapped to like it, and then continued scrolling. But right before the photo left my screen, I spotted it.
The beanie.
On a crowded beach, full of colorful umbrellas and towels, stood a man in blue jeans, carrying a cane, wearing a red and white striped shirt, and the hat to match.
Waldo.
My heart rate rose as I scrolled down through my wife’s photos from her previous trips.
And there he was again: walking among the hustle and bustle of the streets of New York, weaving around the other skiers coming down the mountain, and standing by the slot machines in the Las Vegas casino.
He was everywhere she went.
My heart sank to my stomach as the realization set in.
But my self-pity turned quickly into anger. I booked the next flight to Cancun, and arrived unannounced to my wife’s hotel.
When I barged in to the room, nobody was there. The hat was gone as well. I searched the room for clues, finding only my wife’s luggage and belongings.
But when I entered the bathroom, I discovered the missing piece of evidence.
Resting in the trash can, propped up by the bare cardboard tube of an empty toilet paper roll – was a red and white striped condom.
Just then, I heard the beep of the keycard unlocking the door, as my wife entered the hotel room.
I collected myself and then stepped out of the bathroom, revealing my presence.
But when I saw her face, anger overcame me.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
Shocked to see me standing there, she gasped.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“Where’s Waldo?” I demanded.
Horrified, she froze in her tracks.
“I-I-I don’t know,” she stammered.
I took a deep breath, then yelled.
“WHERE’S WALDO? NOW!”
She burst into tears and sat down on the bed.
I stood there silently for a moment while my wife wiped her tears. Sniffling, she looked up at me and said dryly, “You’ll never find him.”
Five years later, I’ve given up my search. I’ve travelled far and wide, across the world searching for Waldo. I came so close.
In fact, if you look closely at the photos below, you can find both Waldo and myself – hot on his trail.
I’m doing great though. Because while I may not have found Waldo, I found something better – I found love.
It all started a year or so into my search, when I located Waldo’s house – a red brick house with white stripes – but no one ever was home. I stalked the house for several weeks with no progress, and was ready to give up.
Until one day, a car pulled up the driveway. I watched as a woman emerged, collected the mail and left.
I would later find out that this woman was Waldo’s sister, Wanda, who was taking care of the house while her brother was away.
My plan was simply to woo her, to begin a casual relationship, and eventually get invited to meet her family. Then I could finally confront Waldo and reveal to the world the scumbag that he truly is.
We went on a few dates, and with my charm cranked up to 11, she was wooed.
Then, on Christmas Eve, I was invited to her parent’s house.
Was this it? Was this finally my opportunity for revenge?
Things with Wanda were complicated though. I was falling for this girl for real. The truth was I hardly even thought about Waldo anymore.
But when I arrived at the Christmas party and saw him standing there with his stupid red and white stripes in the dining room, the rage returned.
I marched towards him and yelled, “You son of a bitch!” as I grabbed him.
But when I turned him around, I realized that it wasn’t Waldo at all. It was a large decorative candy cane.
I turned back awkwardly and saw that the whole family was staring at me.
“I — uhh — had a traumatic experience with a candy cane as a child.”
But it was no use. Wanda saw right through me.
I saw tears blooming in her eyes as she refused to look at me.
This was rock bottom.
I realized then and there that I was over Waldo. The only thing I cared about was making things right with Wanda.
It took some time, a lot of long conversations, and a lot of tears, but eventually she came around.
We were happy together, and I was done dwelling on the past. We dated for another six months before I proposed to her, and she said yes. We were getting married!
So much love was in the air, so much excitement. So I was genuinely unfazed when I saw that Waldo had RSVPed and was coming to the wedding.
I don’t even care.
Plus, I don’t have to worry about him sleeping with Wanda, because she’s his sister.
The night before our wedding, I got a phone call. It was my ex-wife. I hesitated, but decided to answer at the last second.
She was in hysterics.
“You have to let me come to the wedding! You don’t understand,” she cried, “I’m looking for him too.”
“I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want you there.” I said coldly, “And you’ll never find him.”
Wanda glared at me and took the phone.
“We’d love to have you at our wedding.”
I was unhappy that she was coming, but was not going to let this ruin my wedding day. But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t help but wonder why she wanted to find Waldo so badly. Was she also looking for revenge?
Within a millisecond of seeing her, I understood.
She walked to her seat with a young boy, maybe two years old, who wore round glasses, blue jeans, and a red and white striped shirt.
Wow, I thought, what a strange scenario. Because technically, once Wanda and I were married, I would be this boy’s uncle. I shook these thoughts from my mind.
That’s not what today is about.
It was a perfect day. Wanda was a beautiful bride and I felt like the luckiest man in the world to marry her.
I didn’t even know if Waldo showed up, because I didn’t bother to look for him. My eyes were all on Wanda.
Sometimes you start searching for one thing, and ending up finding something totally different.
It was bitter revenge that I sought, but sweet love is what I found.
But the story didn’t end there.
We returned from the honeymoon to find that my ex-wife and Waldo had reconnected at the wedding and run off together, leaving their son in the care of Wanda and Waldo’s parents.
Three years passed, and nobody had seen or heard anything from Waldo or my ex-wife.
Wanda’s parents had grown old and were struggling to take care of their grandson. It was a sad situation, and we knew what had to be done. We adopted this child, the son of my ex-wife and her lover, and raised him as our own.
He’s a great kid. Phenomenal at hide and seek.
I Just Realized Something 