BEHIND US ALL

With all this hooha in the world today about mortal enemies and fatwahs and such, it would really behoove us to take a good look at the friendships in our lives. Because, you see, doing so will reveal a twisted underbelly of resentment and disdain that will give us a nice headstart on our enemies.

It's not that I'm antisocial. Indeed I have several wonderful friends, many of them bearable to be around. It's just that the most vicious attacks I've endured in my time have been from alleged friends. There are indeed people among us who would see us come to harm, but they may not fit the profile you'd expect.

Some are more flagrant than others, such as the Time Bomb Friend. The Time Bomb Friend may be one of the most pleasant people in your life. In fact he probably is, since his attack depends on it. You will enjoy being with the Time Bomb Friend. You will confide in the Time Bomb Friend. You may even trade trading cards with the Time Bomb Friend. But then one day, as you stroll along pleasantly enjoying the pleasant company of this pleasant fellow, everything will change. You'll say something along the lines of "too bad about taxes " or "I like gum" and unknowingly trigger some deep-rooted psychosis, suddenly transforming your amiable chum into an enraged peacock.

"Oh, that's fine for you to say," he'll retort.

"Sorry?" you'll say, taken back.

"I said that's what I'd expect you to say, you smarmy sack of excrement."

"I'm sorry, all I said was I like gum."

"I know what you were really saying and you know what? I'm just glad it's finally come out because I don't know how much longer I could have pretended to be your friend. Thanks for making it easier. I'm out of here. Go die."

And with that, the Time Bomb Friend is gone. Typical of his species, however, he may return, and no recollection of the outburst will be apparent. Enjoy.

The Saboteur Friend, on the other hand, is a cunning creature. Cripplingly insecure, this friend will seek control of friendly activities and then abuse that control in order to assert her dominance.

Let's say you and a small group of friends have tickets to see Ratt at a bowling alley in New Paltz, NY. Living as you do in New Jersey, you need to plan for transportation and funding. The Saboteur Friend will become excitable and immediately blurt her willingness to offer her vehicle and her services as driver. Overwhelmed by her helpful spirit and desperate to hear Ratt's new material, the group agrees and plans are made to meet in the King Cone parking lot at 5pm the night of the tournament/show.

That night arrives. At 4:53pm your phone rings. It's the Saboteur Friend, and something's wrong.

"Hi."

"Hey! So, King Cone in about ten minutes?"

"Huh? Oh, right the concert. Look, you know, I'm not really in the mood... I'm thinking I might just want to chill at home tonight."

"What? But everyone's gonna meet there at six and no one else can drive on such short notice."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I signed a contract saying I was everyone's chauffer! If my car is the only thing you guys like about me then I'll go find new friends who appreciate me for me! Tell everyone I said to kiss my rear! Oh - and Ratt eats it!!" She hangs up.

If the bazaar shift in tone didn't convince you, the remark about Ratt will: this girl has problems. There is, of course an alternate outcome to this tale. The Saboteur Friend could show up, drive everyone to New Paltz, stop at a gas station, then announce that she didn't bring her wallet because she'll be darned if she's gonna pay everyone's way on the trip because she's not made of money. Either way, she goes home thinking she's made her point clearly and the rest of you go home thinking she's a major jerk. So I guess the moral of this one is: "be suspicious of helpful friends."

Of course I myself have not always been the most stalwart friend. In middle school I was painting a mural with my best friend Martin when, completely unprovoked, I drew on his denim jacket with a fine point Sharpie. Why? I couldn't tell you. I wasn't mad at him. I harbored no resentment, no jealousy. I guess I was just behind on my transgressions for that week. Whatever it was, Martin immediately and unconditionally forgave me and it never came up again.

Conclusions? People are weird, "enemies" is a relative term, and Martin was a really great guy. Oh, and if you're my friend, you should probably stain treat your clothes before spending time with me.