September 4, 2022:
I wrote this twenty years ago:
You used the word "evil" approvingly back then. Your new friends were "so evil" — you'd say that in your characteristic small-child sing-song, as if you thought they were as fun as frozen yogurt or a swim in the cool pool on a summer's day. The leader of the pack was a professional process server who loved bringing bad news into the lives of strangers. You told me a story about him. He once served a priest, who said, "Son, you don't need to be so happy about it." This anecdote was a source of great personal pride, apparently. I don't know that I would call this "evil" so much as malicious, in a petty way. The word "small" comes to mind.
This is correct so far as it went. For this lot, "evil" is simply an admiring synonym for "spiteful". Like the character Trevor in the brilliant TV series The Good Place, it's an evil which cuts its toenails at restaurant tables while waxing enthusiastic about what a great dump the entrée will produce. It's evil like a frat bro with a cheap sports car, whose arrogance hides envy.
It's incomplete because it stops without going where it needs to. It's "evil" because it gives her permission to act publicly on her toxic narcissism. Where her dominant interpersonal attributes are envy and resentment.