THE MOST BORING 
    FRIEND I EVER HAD
    Lynn Norscott


    I say HAD because she's no longer my friend, not since I told her how
    boring she was. I'll call her Monique.  What was so boring about her?   
    All she talked about at work was how her mother-in-law had wrecked 
    her marriage and how her husband had run off with a neighbor woman 
    and how they had taken all the money out of the bank and were living 
    in splendor while she had to work and suffer and suffer.  Day after we 
    had to listen to Monique rave on and on about what they had done to 
    her and how terrible they had been. She hated them and wished they 
    were all dead. Now this all happened over 20 years ago, and  she'd been 
    griping about it ever since. Because I rode to work with her and was her 
    friend, the others at work pleaded with me to tell her how boring she was 
    and how sick and tired they were of listening to her go on and on about 
    the same thing over and over again every day. Some of them had tried 
    to tell her, but she ignored them completely.  I  admit that I had quit 
    listening to what Monique said some time ago.  I’d heard it all for so 
    long that it went in one ear and out the other.  But other people couldn’t 
    seem to do this.  They insisted that I be the one to bring it home to her.  

              I began to give some thought as to what I should say to Monique 
    and the best way to say it. You know, all those little sayings about forgive 
    and forget, letting go of resentment, it poisons your soul, quit living in 
    the past, get a life here and now, etc.  I memorized them all and got 
    ready to reason it out with her on our ride home.  It was for her own good. 

              “Monique, it’s about time you quit talking about the past,” I said 
    as she  started in on how they were living in splendor while she had to
    work and suffer.  “It's best to forgive and forget,”  I continued. 

                “What do you mean?” she asked with a surprised look.  I usually never
    commented on her ramblings.  

                 “You know, quit talking so much about your mother-in law and your 
    husband. That all happened so long ago.   Everybody’s getting tired of it.” 

                  “But that’s what happened to me.  It was terrible.” 

                  “Can’t you ever talk about anything else? It’s boring to hear about 
    it over and over.”

                  ” You don’t know what it was like,”  she moaned.  I could see that she 
    wasn’t getting it.  I had to be more direct.     

                    “Yes, I do know. I’ve heard it so blasted many times I’ve got it all 
    memorized.  And it’s boring the hell out of me and everybody else.”  Her 
    expression changed.  She stared at me a moment.  She raised an eyebrow, 
    then curled her upper lip.

                   “Why you little #@&," she screamed at me, "and I thought you 
    were my friend.”  

                   “But Monique, you can’t go on living in the past,” I pleaded. She 
    screeched to the curb and abruptly stopped the car. “You must forgive 
    and forget, it’s poisoning your soul.”

                   “Get out, you #@%$!” she screamed and pointed to the car door. 
    “Get out! Get out!”  I shook my head and exited the car.  The tires squeeled 
    as she darted away.  Well, I had tried to tell her.   Next day at work, the crew 
    gathered around. 

                   “Did you tell her?” they asked.  I nodded.  “What did she say?” 

                  “She swore at me and kicked me out of the car,” I said matter of
     factly.  Everyone began to laugh. For some reason, they thought it was 
    the funniest thing they had ever heard.  They couldn’t quit laughing.

                  “Sorry,” some of them appologized after awhile.  “The way you said it, 
    we couldn’t help laughing.  We know it  wasn’t really that funny.”  But they 
    walked away still snickering.  Every time they saw me that day, there was a 
    big grin on their faces.  There was some other results.  Monique quit talking to me,
    although she speaks to everyone else at work. And, low and behold, she quit 
    talking about her terrible life.  She began to talk of other things, real things.
    Everyone thanked me over and over for getting her to change.  Maybe someday 
    she will begin to talk to me again.   

    Have you ever had a friend like this?  Did you handle it any better?  Let me know in the box below.