FriendShit

The only certainties in life are death and taxes (and you can get around that second one if you're careful).  So, how do we determine that a person is *safe*?  Not safe as in being sure that person will not boil your bunny, sell your Grandma's ring for the-most-awesome-phone-yo, or volunteer to house-sit as a cover for a designer drug operation.  


No.  I mean "safe", as in they will keep your cherished secrets, not judge you when they totally should (because that was a pretty awful thing you did), or MAYBE (given the "right" circumstances), help you hide a body.... or a body part.  


I consider myself a decent judge of character but have become decidedly more suspicious in my bronze years (we aren't quite to golden yet).  As much as I *want* to believe that most people are good, the pragmatic part of my brain remains guarded.  My armored heart is as much from suspicion as it is from just plain 'ole getting stomped on.  


I have observed that the majority of people whom I encounter and might possibly start a friendship are either A) selfish or B) lack sufficient coping skills.  


The Selfish are generally emotional politicians.  They hang around long enough to see what you can offer but when push comes to shove, they quickly bail and catch the next possible coat-tail.  Unfortunately, they are generally gregarious folk who are fun, vivacious, and suck you in like an infomercial.  It's easy to tell when you've been targeted because you find yourself short on cash, energy, and Facebook friends but you do have a closet full of Mary Kay, wrapping paper, and broken promises.     


The Coping Retarded are another breed entirely.  I understand these folks rather well because I used to be one (and on really bad days, I fall right back in line with them).  CR's usually have decent intentions but lack the coping skills to problem solve, diffuse conflict and often jump to ridiculous fucking conclusions.  Their coping skills are... well...  retarded.  CR's are generally drama queens, codependent, and keep a watchful eye out for those who are just waiting to screw them (which is pretty much everybody). 


I used to wonder why I had the worst luck with friends.  And I became more confused upon hearing so many other women complain about friends.  I couldn't figure out why we were all pissing in each other's Cheerios.  Simply declaring that people suck wasn't good enough.  It's general, lacks explanation, and doesn't lend itself to any type of resolution.  To an observer of human behavior coupled with a pathological need for reason, this was wholly unsatisfying.  


Lumping folks into the Red Robin or Blue Bird groups is somewhat satisfying.  I keep my distance from The Selfish and politic only the necessary amount.  I feel empathy for the Coping Retarded and this helps me not mail them anthrax.  (I still think about it but don't actually purchase the baby powder anymore.)


I wish I could say that I have a foolproof vetting process.  I don't.  I use my wicked observational skills, intuition (this is about as accurate as a weather forecast in the Midwest), and I give a friendship some time before purchasing the BFF necklaces.  


Cheers to grown up friendships, good decisions, and a *little* bit of baby powder in my bathroom closet...