The Friend Contract

Girlfriend X turned 46 today. She wears 46 much like Sharon Stone does, like an accessory; subtle, enhancing , never obvious nor distracting.

Jim: Happy Birthday!

GF-X: Objection, if you will recall in clause 23 of The Friend Contract, we do not acknowledge the B-Word after the age of 40.

Jim: Sustained, let me rephrase. I wish to express my feeling of joy that you have completed another successful year of enduring the planet.

GF-X: LOL, thank you.

You're thinking she uses the term Friend Contract as an occupational hazard, lawyer speak-laced satire?

Nope, we actually do have a written contract. When I left San Francisco in 1989, GF-X and I met at the Metro on Market St. for a couple good-bye drinks and Cashew Chicken. After 4 margaritas each we were headlong into silly and we decided that we would remain friends by never doing those little annoying things that chip away at a friendship. It was her idea to write each annoyance down on a cocktail napkin, then we would exchange. She made me sign my name to each cocktail napkin in the name of friendhship, she reciprocated. I still have her cocktail napkin contract somewhere in a ziploc bag in one of the many unpacked boxes from my California days.

Definitely one was "Never acknowledge, confirm or insinuate that I am over 40". I signed it therefore I am under margarita and chinese food contract to oblige.

The day after GF-X's divorce was final I received a Fed Ex package. The package contained two cocktail napkins and one hand written note. The note read "Please sign one copy of this amendment to our Friend Contract and return the signed version to me :)"

The cocktail napkin read "From this date forward you may not use my ex-husband's name when speaking in reference to said ex-husband. From this date forward he will be referred to simply as The Sperm Donor."

It was a particularly nasty breakup involving no warning and a 22-year old assistant, leaving her alone to explain the reality to a then single-digit son. Aside from a few very long, very hysterical phone calls while she sat gridlocked on the 405, she handled it with grace. She took the high road - fixing up a new condo, throwing herself into work and working out.

I called GF-X after receiving my amendment.

Jim: Congrats!

GF-X: Thanks, I feel the closure now, its beautiful! So, Jim, you know physics right?

Jim: Sure, I remember some, why?

GF-X: Tell me, about how long would it take for a piece of irreplaceable family china carried from generation to generation for hundreds of years to fall 10 stories before breaking into a million pieces on the hard, cold surface of Wilshire Blvd.?

Jim: Um, what exactly are you doing?

GF-X: Having a dry martini, LOL. Oh, you know this is very interesting -- the tea cup itself drops fast, straight down and breaks when it hits the grass, however, the tea cup saucer kind of floats and glides off to the side before meeting its demise, LOL.

Jim: Let me guess, these are the Sperm Donor's and he wants them back, right?

GF-X: Uh-huh, tomorrow morning. You know, the bowls are rather disappointing, they start off with a beautiful sprial downward, then they just flip end over end.

Jim: And what are you going to tell him?

GF-X: The movers dropped them, LOL.

Jim: Good plan, LOL. Do you really think this is healthy?

GF-X: Now Jim, you know we all grieve in different ways, LOL.


Well, you know what they say ...

Hell hath no fury like a Summa Cum Laude Stanford Law woman attorney scorned.