...I really find it galling to deal with those who clearly are NOT actually "my" friends, but that love having me there for their convenience.
I've always gone into friendships really happy to share things, do things, talk about things, etc. and I'm a very supportive friend....and yet over the past decade or so, I've also discovered I really actually SUCK at choosing people who CARE for ME. I think they do when we first become friends, but eventually it's pretty clear I'm a convenience and even a source of something that they want for themselves. I must be totally gormless.
Hence, the 'best friend' who put up all my creative writing on websites under HER name. Because I was a better writer than she was.
Hence also, the series of friends who are always late, always stand me (and others) up, who think nothing of calling in the middle of the night if they NEED SOMETHING, but otherwise I'm just a name on a list to them.
This past weekend was like a series of the Golden (Rotten) Oldies as far as sucky friends go. For ME, they're all now PAST tense, often having actually been TOLD DIRECTLY that they're selfish, self-obessessed, inconsiderate, and not really a friend TO me, but just USE me. I really do not have much or anything to do with them.
G(R)O# 1 was never really a FRIEND per se, but a wife-of-a-coworker at a place I left back in 1991. Yes, that's over TWENTY years ago. And she was incredibly tedious back then, too. Unable to take a breath, much less listen to anyone else, she was this rabidly-ramped-up chatterbox that WOULD NOT SHUT UP no matter what one did. She often dropped by the office to see her husband and she just sort of GLOMMED onto me. (I was the only woman at Serigraphics and she evidently thought that gave us a kinship.) I never returned the calls, responded to the invitations, nor included her in ANY activity, but I would see her at every coworker's birthday (because she REALLYWANTEDTOPARTY!!! Uh...at work?). In fact, she was one of the reasons I stopped going to art openings, because her husband was an artist and he wanted to go...and I wanted to go...and G(R)O# 1 would naturally tag along BECAUSEOMGICANSEEGREYSON!!!! . Perhaps you can already see the problem! *laughs* And there was no escaping her once she rushed over to you and super-glued herself to your side.
I thought I was rid of her when I left Serigraphics, but no, she kept calling for at least the next decade. I would let the machine take her calls. (There was no point in talking to her to tell her you weren't interested; you'd never be able to get that many words out before she'd have chattered at you for well over TWO HOURS.) When I took a job at the Hoosier State Press Association, imagine my horror when I walked into her at the Concierge desk at Nordstrom's. Despite the fact I was just walking THROUGH the store on my way to the food court at Circle Centre Mall, and despite my telling her I didn't have time to stop, she waylaid me for almost 45 minutes. I had to stop getting my lunch from the food court or else make a big, big detour through the far end of the Mall and avoiding her floor as much as I could, although she still tagged me a few times. I felt like a deer during deer hunting season.
G(R)O# 1 finally either LOST my phone number (that she'd gotten from her husband back in the Nineties) or else figured I must have moved or changed it...and I haven't. But she hasn't called the house. However, whenever she runs into ANY of our past coworkers, she drills them with demands for my phone number, because she "has" to talk to me. This includes Chicken Nugget Boy who lives three streets over, who has kept his friendship with her husband all these years.
Chicken Nugget Boy kept telling her "Greyson is very private and would not appreciate ANYONE giving out her phone number", but evidently G(R)O# 1 has been nagging him consistently for the past TWO YEARS. I feel sorry for him, but despite his usual inability to NOT TALK ABOUT GREYSON TO ANYONE (something I keep demanding, because since he finds MY life more interesting than his own, he actually tells people "What's going on with Greyson" instead of his own 'news'. Usually to people who don't even KNOW me, but they've come to expect the "Greyson Stories". In fact, I was chagrined to also find out this weekend that Chicken Nugget Boy's BROTHER-IN-LAW not only finds the story about my having an SFCon run-in with The Spanish Inquisition SOOOOOOoooo funny, that HE tells further strangers about me! He shared this story with a class of high schoolers this week! What is it about PRIVACY that these idiots do not understand?!?!)
Evidently, G(R)O# 1 wants me to give her my praise/feedback/whatever on the fact that her CLOSET was featured in a small-town newspaper. OMG, where do these people COME FROM?!?!?
G(R)O# 2 is the Kellie of Kellie&Andrea groupie wannabe infamy. Because she DID know Rhyo and at one point they WERE friends, I went ahead and relayed G(R)O# 1 information about Rhyo's condition. Back at the beginning of January, when they shipped Rhyo back to Indiana. I was told she couldn't talk then, but she dutifully promised to call me back the next evening.
She called me this past Friday, demanding to know why I hadn't called her. I told her I had presumed SHE DIDN'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT RHYO because she said she'd call back "the next day" and then disappeared up her own arse. I mean, it's the middle of MAY!!! (This is the woman who was always HOURS AND DAYS late to everything, because no one matters but HER.) She "suddenly" remembers this is the truth and never apologises, but insists upon trying to continue the conversation as if we were still friends. OMG.
G(R)O# 3 I have tried to keep on relatively 'nice' basis, because he's my next-door neighbour and I don't want trouble from him. However, he never returns phone calls, never shows up when he says he will, and mostly acts like he know everything about everything over anyone else. However, THIS weekend he got a big, new sword and he acted like the fact I was juggling phone calls with Rhyo's family/friends (and he KNOWS Rhyo from back in the SCA days we all shared in the Eighties) and the fact that her condition is so sad was really disappointing--because he wanted me to see his big new sword NAOW!!! He could care less about Rhyo or even the fact I explained I was too exhausted to see it right 'naow' (because that also means a 6+ hour non-stop soliloquy on what he thinks he knows while he plants himself in my living room and will not leave short of being tire-ironed out of the chair...) and I begged could we do this NEXT Saturday. Sounds of huffy baby-man pouting on the phone.
Really, what ARE these creatures? Why are they so self-obsessed?
I could be terminally ill and they'd go, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that--but now let's get your mind off that by TALKING ABOUT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"