Sunday, September 11, 2005
Personal Rant
As part of my ongoing quest to maintain unemployment and my poverty-level standard of living, I spent today's earliest hours responding to assorted IMs from friends. One exchange involved a friend (I'll call her Brunhilda) and I cracking on a mutual friend. Why the cracking? Because this is what friends do.
I'll try to keep this as general as possible so that no one realizes whom I'm talking about. Aren't I considerate? This mutual friend (I'll call her Dementia) is upset (and has been for quite a long time) because the guy she likes is heavily involved with someone else (I'll call this couple John and Jane). Dementia repeats ad nauseum facts such as that Jane screwed half of John's friends before they got together, that Jane might be a user, that John cheats on Jane (and therefore can't be serious about Jane), etc.
To all of these things, Brunhilda and I have responded politely with typical feigning surprise, agreement, noncommittal nodding, that sort of thing. But of course in our hearts we're begging for Dementia to shut the hell up and move on. Why?
Brunhilda and I are not so selfish that we are incapable of having sympathy for a friend even if the friend's situation is hopeless. We realize that we've found ourselves under similar circumstances. But when is it safe to finally scream at someone to shut the hell up? When does putting a dog out of her misery become the more humane choice? Any hints on how to do this?
I'll try to keep this as general as possible so that no one realizes whom I'm talking about. Aren't I considerate? This mutual friend (I'll call her Dementia) is upset (and has been for quite a long time) because the guy she likes is heavily involved with someone else (I'll call this couple John and Jane). Dementia repeats ad nauseum facts such as that Jane screwed half of John's friends before they got together, that Jane might be a user, that John cheats on Jane (and therefore can't be serious about Jane), etc.
To all of these things, Brunhilda and I have responded politely with typical feigning surprise, agreement, noncommittal nodding, that sort of thing. But of course in our hearts we're begging for Dementia to shut the hell up and move on. Why?
- It's not up to Dementia to decide if John dates Jane, Imelda Marcos or his dog.
- If John wanted to date Dementia, wouldn't he be dating her now? She's obviously more than willing to do so.
- The things Jane is accused of having done aren't any worse than the skeletons in anyone's closet.
- People in our world date convicted felons, child molesters, rapists, abusers, cheaters, con artists, neurotics, manic depressives, schizophrenics, Republicans...you name a type of person and I'll bet you my left tit that someone has dated one. So dating a girl and finding out she screwed your poker buddy three years ago at some party isn't the worst news you could hear.
- What was that claptrap Jesus said about throwing the first stone? Most of us - Dementia (definitely) included - have done things in the distant and not-so-distant past that we wouldn't list in bold print on a dating resumé.
- John is apparently cheating on Jane. Hmm...maybe crazy Dementia deserves him.
Brunhilda and I are not so selfish that we are incapable of having sympathy for a friend even if the friend's situation is hopeless. We realize that we've found ourselves under similar circumstances. But when is it safe to finally scream at someone to shut the hell up? When does putting a dog out of her misery become the more humane choice? Any hints on how to do this?
