. . .if The Lemonheads were writing their song, My Drug Buddy, now they’d probably change it to My Virtual Buddy.
The first time I heard someone say they’d never met the person they considered their best friend I thought it weird. Fifteen or so years later, I still find it odd even though I hear it much, much more often.
Don’t get me wrong, I have friends I’ve never met but the term best friend is a tough one to use on someone who’s never helped you ‘clean’ a situation, dig a ‘shallow’ hole, or sat next to you surrounded by angry authorities.
Hey! You have a criteria for your best friend candidates, I have mine!
I’m listening to this person go on about their best friend. I know that, even if I made my criteria more PG, there’s no way I could change his mind that his best friend may not even look like the picture he sent.
I’m regaled with a story about this person and it sounds sad. Dire, in fact. Biblical in scope. Each story makes my con alarm clang louder. I ask if there has been any transaction between them. You know how it is, best friends often lend each other money.
“Yeah,” I’m told. “But not much.”
“How much is not much?”
Wow! Some people have a different view of not much. Hell, for that amount of money I’d be his best friend. I, gently, begin to touch on the subject of trust but he’s too well prepared for any negative talk. I know it’s a futile battle and one I am not willing to charge into.
Even if, right there in psychiatric books, it states that if an adult has invisible friends it’s okay to put them in four-point restraints and use electroshock (hey! I think it’s barbaric too but it’s what the book says!). I decide to wish him well then end the conversation with,
“You can have all the virtual friends you want but you can’t have a virtual best friend because virtual people can’t help you move.”