FRIEND OR FOE

FRIEND OR FOE

The pancake house was bustling with its usual lunchtime swarm. We were well into a conversation about my friends' marriage breakup that had happened months ago. My fork was poised ready to stab a strawberry dripping in syrup, when I had the first hint something was about to erupt.
"He's away for the weekend, him and his snip of a girlfriend. So I was thinking what a smashing time to rent a truck, grab all the furniture and leave the faucet running. I can't do it alone so you have to help."
"You have to be kidding," I say.
"So we'll meet at my place around three on Saturday."
She's not kidding. "No can do. Breaking and entering, isn’t that illegal? Get it. We could end up in jail."
"What do you mean? No?" Her voice a few octaves higher. “ I thought you were my friend."
"That is exactly why I can't let you do this," I place the berry back in its nest.
That did it. Mt. St. Helen's exploded. This woman, who I had known for two months pushed herself out of the booth, walked to my side of the table and spouted five minutes of profanity in my face, then left.
Hit with a flash of déjà vu , I took my time trying to savor my now cold soufflé. Another place, another time, a woman I knew for a year yelled, " I hope your plane crashes and kills you and your daughter." All because I gave away many of my used household items to a single mother, with three small boys, and none to my supposedly friend.
"Your husband brings home one- hundred grand a year," I remind her.
"And I thought you were my friend," she screams and slams the door.
Then there was the time after just moving into a new apartment my doorbell rang and a gossip and liar disguised as a friendly neighbour stood holding a freshly baked banana loaf. She was my first lesson as an adult that thought friendship was conditional. For two months I could not understand why this woman was the only person to befriend us in our apartment building. One day the lady living across the hall told me. The woman that came bearing gifts the day we moved in had told terrible lies about me and my husband. To this day I do not know why. Probably I was guilty of the same thing as a child. Although I can't remember one episode when I said to someone," I won't be your friend if you don't do something for me."
The episode at the pancake house was over twenty years ago. I never saw that woman again. Although last week I was witness to a similar situation, this time I was only an observer.
It's easier for me to understand a youngster using this method to get what he or she wants, but an adult? Come on. I almost expected to see this forty year old stick her tongue out and sing, "Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah."
It is very sad that some people go through their entire lives not understanding how to be a friend. When my husband was seriously ill I don't know how we could have coped without our friends. I never once said, "Could you or would you." I never needed to say a word. The endless pouring out of friendship was overwhelming.
One of my dearest friends has been in my life for almost fifty years. We may not see one another for months on end but we take time to chat on the phone Sunday mornings. I could not imagine asking something of her that could put her at risk of injury or imprisonment. We have always been there for one another, even when we lived in separate countries. Our letter writing was as genuine as our friendship.
Maybe friendship does have one condition placed on it. It's a two-way street of giving and receiving. I'm not speaking of material things, but acceptance, loyalty, genuine caring, respect, even forgiveness. Since the episode at the pancake house, I am more weary of whom I consider a friend. Now I tell people that I have made many acquaintances through my lifetime but only a handful of friends.
Friendship has no price tags.