KBTV

KBTV::My 'Friend"

I see a new and disturbing trend emerging in the vernacular of the dating arena, and I think it comes out of people’s incessant cravings for privacy. I continue to pick-up (no pun intended) on men now referring to girlfriends as “my friend.”

I first noticed it shortly after Paul Wolfowitz resigned as World Bank chief amid the furor over his handling of a bank pay package for his girlfriend. Wolfowitz courted controversy from the start because of his role in the Iraq war when he was deputy defense secretary. However, it was his role in arranging a hefty pay raise for Shaha Riza, his girlfriend (or “friend”) and bank employee, that forced his departure.

A friend of mine (no, a real friend, not a “my Friend” kind of a friend), told me that he had seen Wolfowitz at a cocktail party in Vienna and the man-with-apparently-nine-lives persisted in calling Ms. Riza “my friend.”

Well, last Friday “my friend” was arriving from out of town, and I was in a complete panic. The toilet in the master bedroom was stopped up, and I had no idea how it had gotten into that state. Well, I sort of might have known how it had gotten into that state, but I wasn’t sure.

You see I live in a brand new townhouse, and it’s equipped with these “low-flush” toilets because I live in Florida and we seem to live in this precarious state of perennial drought. I was told upfront, full disclosure, no feminine by-products were to be flushed down the toilet … EVER … even if the packaging said it was OK. Well, if you read this blog, you already know I keep horrific hours. Sometimes I shoot at dawn on three hours sleep. At dawn, I’m forgetful. Who isn’t? I thought I might have “slipped” – just once.

I call the plumber from Four Star Plumbing.

“It’s an emergency,” I explain to Denise, at the other end of the phone. “My friend is coming into town and I don’t want to be mortified and embarrassed with a stopped up toilet. Denise,” I plead. “I’ll pay anything! He absolutely cannot know I have a stopped up toilet.” Particularly, I think if he’d known how many days it had been stopped up. (I have two others, don’t worry.)

“Ms. Bohner I might be able to have someone out there today,” Denise tells me politely. “But it’s going to cost double-time.”

OUCH! “What’s that going to run me?” I’m squeaking like Tweety Bird.

“One-ninety-two,” Denise replies with that “unyielding” tone.

Double-time OUCH! “Shoot. I don’t know what to do!”

Denise exhales a huge sigh. “Ms. Bohner, why do you care if it’s just a friend? It’s not like it’s your boyfriend?”

But it is! And therein lies my frustration!

To be continued …

posted by rjoyner @ 10:24 PM