At a job I once was employed at
years ago, I knew someone who I regarded as a “friend,” insofar as I am capable
of making one. One day she asked me if I wanted to go to her home and have a
Thanksgiving dinner with her husband and another guest or two. I normally
wouldn’t have accepted such an the invitation, since “holidays” are just
another day for me (I even have a tendency to forget my own birthday). However,
she seemed to be sincere about the offer, and not patronizing or out of
misplaced sympathy; so I said I would show up. Then I was invited for
Christmas, and then the visits became a monthly affair.
However, I realized early on that
this wasn’t merely about being “friendly,” but that I was fulfilling a certain
function in her life. My friend was a “Christian”
who took her duties to God seriously. I’m not a religious person at all, but I
respect people whose moral and ethical core is most closely tied to Jesus’ own
teachings of compassion for one’s fellow human—quite different from
self-righteous religious-right fundamentalism and its essential core of hatred.
I usually stopped by on the weekend for these visits, and I was expected to
attend a church service with her and her husband. I thought that this was a
small price to pay for having someone I could call a “friend” and was only too
happy to “help.”
One day I left for another job,
but maintained contact with her, continuing to visit her home once a month. But
then one day I called her and found her to be depressed about something.
Apparently she had recently discovered that while she was working on the family
taxes, she found that there was much less money in their bank account than she assumed. Her husband—who
seemed to me to be a “nice” man and a “sincere” Christian—had been “cooking the
books.” It seems that he had been able to print out his own paychecks, and even
somehow fudged bank statements, and spent the extra cash (he worked at a
particular large software company in the area) for his own use. When confronted
with this, he admitted he had been deceiving his wife, and did so—he told a
marriage counselor—because it was “easy” to lie to her.
After that confession he didn’t
attend anymore sessions, and that pretty much ended the marriage. She asked me
if I wanted to stop by and I answered in the affirmative, but then called back
and withdrew the invitation, informing me that her father (who was living with
her) had advised against it, since it might complicate divorce proceedings by providing an incorrect "impression" of our relationship.
Since I regarded her as friend, I
respected those wishes, and called her once a month just to check on how she
was doing. But she stopped calling me on her own like she used to. After a year
I started calling once every two months, and then every three months, and then
waited for her to see if she really did regard me as “friend” by calling me
herself. She never did, and I never called her again. Being someone who
operated on the fringes of society, I was never good at unilateral
communication, let alone two-way. I felt I had been let down, even deceived.
It also made me think about the
true nature of this this “friendship.” I came to the conclusion that it was
based one premise, at least from her perspective: I was a “lost” sheep in the
flock, and it would be a mark in her favor with God if she took pity on this lost
soul and put some “comfort” into his life. I could understand it if she saw
faith sorely tested by what happened, but I had tried to return the favor she
had once shown me, and being someone who tended to keep to himself, this did
take considerably more effort that I normally would have persuaded myself to
do.
But there was a limit to my
exertions. It occurred to me that the “function” I had fulfilled had ceased to
be, and I was of no use to her and her God. She didn’t know me anymore. I was never really a "friend" anyways--just an object.
This did not make me completely
“down” on human nature; after all, being a natural cynic this was just one of
an occasional blip on a flat line. After all, there are still people I
encounter who do not mind offering small comforts (say, not charging me for
coffee), and I always make certain that I compel myself to be suitably grateful.
The fact is, however, that if you are not the “lovable” type and often the
object of fear and suspicion, almost anything “friendly” can be interpreted in
a context that is illusory. Disappointment invariably awaits at the other end.
People for whom life has been at
least tolerable feel good about themselves when they do something “nice” for
one of society’s outcasts, forgetting that such a person’s first impulse is to
distrust the motives of that person, or the practicality of the aid offered.
The good Samaritan will “like” that person for as long as he remain a symbol of
their generosity. But in fact you are only being used to benefit their own
self-image. If you are no longer that symbol or you no longer see them as
“benefactors”—then you are of no use to them. They don’t even know you, and
they might even try to hurt you for letting them “down.”
Such are the vagaries of human
nature. I can’t get to “disappointed” by what I already know.
No comments:
Post a Comment