Dear Prudence,
I used to work at a restaurant. I loved it but left when my dream job opened up. I used to visit there frequently to eat. I told an old co-worker, Mike, that I was selling my house, and he put in an offer, which I accepted. It seemed perfect, but things soured quickly. Mike called and texted me constantly about issues with the sale rather than talking to my realtor. Negotiations got heated and personal, and I told Mike not to contact me again. He turned icy. While I’m glad I stuck up for myself, I feel anxious about ever going back to the restaurant. It’s a small place with a small staff, so the odds of seeing Mike are high. I wish I was the kind of person who could flounce in and relish watching him serve me after being a jerk, but I’m leaning more toward investing in a good disguise. What else can I do that doesn’t involve spirit gum prosthetics?
—Can’t Go Home Again