Thirty-five going on Thirteen

I think when we are in high school we all feel that we will be in touch with our friends forever. But then, of course, we grow up, grow on, move away, etc.

This is about my friend S. who I have known since I was twelve. My husband said she's not really as much a friend as a parasite. It is true that if the takers and givers got on different sides of the room, she would be firmly on the taker side.

She would love to be paid to do nothing. We all know somebody like that, right? If there's a paying job for watching TV, sleeping and eating would someone let her know, please?

I think we would all love to be paid to do that, but reality intrudes. Damn reality! The last time I had a gig that sweet, I was a teenager living with my parents, bumming money and too clueless to realize how good I had it. I wanted to get out and not have to follow any rules. Mwahahahaha.

So S. and I went through the selfish teen stage together. Then I went off to the military for a bit. Came home - we hung out. Then I moved a bit north of her, got married for a short while, had a baby, kind of kept contact. My husband at the time hated her. When she told him he looked like a chihuahua and kept making jokes about his looks, he got just a little irked. He and I didn't last long nothing to do with S.

So I'm single Mom, moved in with my parents. (ugh) On the weekends we hung out. We always had to go in my car and were usually spending my money as she still didn't work. Whenever she got a job there would always be somebody who "had it out for her", usually a supervisor, and she got canned. It was never her fault, mind you.

We diverged once again when I remarried and moved far, far away. We talked by phone at times. If I drove her way, we might visit.

This brings us to the present. She is thirty-five years old. She had never left her parent's house and had no urge to leave. Therein lies the latest catastrophe of her life. She called me about two months ago and left a message on the machine that her Mom had kicked her out, don't call her at home because she wasn't there anymore. Well, of course I called her Mom. Her Mom is an adult, after all. For future reference, I'll call her mom B.

I knew that she was immature, but didn't know the half of it. After her Dad had died, seven years ago, B. asked her if she wanted to sleep in a bed with her for a bit - a comfort thing if you will. She was STILL sleeping with her. B. had paid for her to go to nursing school. S had gone from working full time to being on call at her job. Most of the time she was called to work, she said no. She had B. paying her car payment. She wasn't helping with rent or food. She was sleeping, eating, taking too many prescription drugs, buying expensive things for herself and sleeping some more. I had to side with her Mom on this one.

So I called S. I told her that her mother had valid points. It was like talking to my own children. You know something is coming out of your mouth, but they hear, "blah, blah, blah." S. got off the phone quickly, because she wasn't getting a "poor baby" from me.

Her Mom found her an apartment, paid for it all. My husband said, "Just watch. She'll try so hard to get back in her old house."

Well, within a week she hit a pole backing out with her car and jacked up the front of her car. She said she didn't feel "safe" driving it. So she is driving B's car and B is driving her car.

She told me how she got an awful stomach ache and had to curl up on her bed and cry for hours. It hurt so bad. Having never had children, she doesn't realize the luxury of being able to lay down when you're sick.

She said one of her two cats pooped in her bed and she had to go to B's house to do laundry. I bet she didn't take her own detergent over - it wouldn't even occur to her. She's not sure which cat it was. Maybe she should superglue shut the butthole of the one she thinks is doing it and see if her suspicions are correct. Yes, I'm kidding. Please don't do this at home.

This is my favorite one. She went to the McDonald's drive-thru to use her ATM. (Did I mention she's diabetic?) It wouldn't work. She called B. and told her she thought she might be about fifty dollars over her limit and could she please make a deposit for her. That told me right there that she knew she was over, because she had a dollar amount in her head. Let's just use that ATM card until they say "no" is apparently her motto. B. went to the bank. She was one-hundred fifteen dollars overdrawn. Here's where I got amazed. This is the story straight from the horse's mouth.

"My Mom told me we had to talk, so I went to her house. She didn't get mad at me like I thought she would. She did say I had to pay her back as she was very low on funds, but I could do twenty-five dollars a week. She explained that when you first move out on your own, these things happen. Then she gave me this cool, little book and explained to me that when you take money out, even when you go to the store, you mark it down in this book. Then you know how much money you have."

What the heck! Can you live thirty-five years and be THAT STUPID! I guess the only thing more amazing than her stupidity is how constantly I am amazed by it. But husband and I had a good laugh.

Her lastest update is that she somehow hurt her knee. She is on disability for a month. I imagine she probably kept jumping from her bed to the floor until she twisted it just right. "Please Mommy, take me home."

When she calls me on the phone, I try to be supportive of her, but it is getting so so hard. I guess there isn't much use in trying to explain to her, because she will never get it.

Here's to old friends.