Underground Novel - Friend Pruning for Beginners
The Novel in Short: After graduating from university with a degree in business, Dustin has a problem. He needs to figure out a way to break through the confines the world has built for him. The confines of middling employment opportunities, family expectations, and the small imaginations of others. Luckily, he's not alone. With his monkey sidekick, Dustin braves the hazards of the real world, demonstrating his own unique brand of hippy entrepreneurship.
You can read more chapters here: https://www.wattpad.com/384227839-the...
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A Good Insight on Friendship:
With friends, you have radiators (those who radiate energy) and drains (those who drain energy). Entice the radiators and avoid the drains.
The Good Advice on Pruning Your Friends:
When pruning the drains in your life, be kind, smile, tell them you wish them all the best. Tell them that they will someday become a radiator.
The Good, Good Advice on Pruning Your Friends:
If necessary, tell the drains to fuck off.
The Advice I Shouldn’t Give You, but I’ll Give Anyway:
Even when you give up on people, don’t give up on them completely. That’s bad humanity. And in the end, bad humanity is bad business.
*
Tom looks up at me sort of dazed and confused. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably born with that look on his face. Then he smiles. “I knew I could count on you, Dustin. You’re always there for me.”
We’re in a diner off Cypress Creek road. One of those places modeled after a 1950s diner with a jukebox and waitresses with old-fashioned hairstyles.
I feel like this is a rerun of something. Not the diner, as in it feels like a rerun of “Happy Days” (all hail the Fonz), but rather that this meeting with Tom is a rerun. Perhaps I’ve done this before. Perhaps I’ve gotten this call before. It’s hard to know. Things kind of run together over time. But yeah, I’ve been here before.
“I was so hungry. Had no money. Knew I could count on you, that there is one person I can count on,” he says and starts scarfing down his philly cheese steak sandwich. “I hear you’ve been killing it. You’re a college graduate and everything. What are you doing right now?”
“Unemployed. Mostly living under a pier with a monkey and a bunch of homeless people.”
“That’s cool. Knew you were killing it. I just lost my job. It’s been tough since high school.”
I want to tell him that hard luck has always found him. He’s been unlucky since that first day of high school when...anyways that’s not what this is about.
“Listen, Tom. You and I, we’ve been growing apart. There is no easy way to say this, but I think I have to break up our friendship.”
“Yeah man, I’m glad I have friends like you I can count on. My parents kicked me out of the house again and I’ve been…”
Oh, I want to sympathize. I really do. I’m freshly kicked out of the house too, but I can’t get distracted. Otherwise, I’ll be meeting Tom in diners around Florida until I’m fifty, bailing him out of jail, or taking messages from his various ex-wives looking for him so that they can collect alimony…
“No, Tom, you’re not listening to me, man. You’re not going to call me again. This is the last time. I’m breaking off our friendship.”
“Whaaaaaattt! Nah, man we’ve been friends since high school. Man, I was there for you when…”
“Yeah, I know. And I’ve been there for you when your dad kicked you out of the house, when your mom kicked you out of the house, when Jamie Spencer wanted to kick your ass for making out with his girl, when Tina Smith broke up with you for giving her crabs, when you got caught cheating on your algebra exam, when you dropped out of your first semester of university and spent three weeks getting high in a closet with weed you got from me on credit…[two dozen other things omitted]...then when you needed a job, I helped you with that…”
“Man, you make it sound like I’m one big mooch…”
“You are one big mooch. If you’d listened to me just a second ago you would’ve heard that I am sleeping under a pier with a bunch of homeless guys and that I’m unemployed. I can’t remember one time you offered to help me out with anything…even when, well, let’s not mention that.”
“But Dustin, that’s because you’re naturally good at everything you do…Honestly, you should write a book. That’s how awesome you are.”
I love flattery. I want more, but I’m not falling for it this time. I look in Tom’s sad eyes. A diner, a public place. Breakups are never easy, but pruning your friends is absolutely necessary sometimes. There are radiators like J.P., people who pick you up... and then there’s Tom.
“I think my girlfriend might be…”
I close my ears, I can’t hear it.
“Tom,” I say, because I’ve rehearsed this and have to get it out before I lose my nerve, “someday, you’re going to be the kind of person who radiates success. People will want to be around you because they know good things will come to you and that you’ll fight through the tough times. They’ll come to you because they’ll be able to see your greatness coming from a mile away. I know you have the potential to be that person.”
I say it, even though I don’t believe it. I say it because I want to leave him with one last gift, a vision of his own possible greatness. But Tom...Tom is a drain. He’ll probably always be a drain.
“Tom, I’m leaving you now. Enjoy your sandwich. I got the check. This is on me. But this is the last time.” I wink at him and get up to leave.
As I’m about to leave the restaurant, he yells to me, “Aw, good one, Dustin. You’re always so smart, man. I’ll call you this weekend. We’ll get stoned together.”
No, you won’t, dude. I got a life to live.
Later, I give his number to J.P. and delete it from my phone. I’ll put up barriers to meeting Tom again. Maybe I’ll even send a harsh message next time he tries to contact me. Something like “Fuck Off” should do it. But I give his contact information to J.P. and tell him to keep tabs on him from time to time when we have a lull in our business schedule. Maybe do a little something for him, but not too much. And nothing that can be traced back to me.
Why?
Because even though pruning your friends is sometimes necessary, it’s not in my nature to give up on people...not completely. Giving up on people completely is bad humanity...and, at the end of the day, bad humanity is bad business.
If the Fonz were writing this book, he’d say the same thing.
You can read more chapters here: https://www.wattpad.com/384227839-the...
*
A Good Insight on Friendship:
With friends, you have radiators (those who radiate energy) and drains (those who drain energy). Entice the radiators and avoid the drains.
The Good Advice on Pruning Your Friends:
When pruning the drains in your life, be kind, smile, tell them you wish them all the best. Tell them that they will someday become a radiator.
The Good, Good Advice on Pruning Your Friends:
If necessary, tell the drains to fuck off.
The Advice I Shouldn’t Give You, but I’ll Give Anyway:
Even when you give up on people, don’t give up on them completely. That’s bad humanity. And in the end, bad humanity is bad business.
*
Tom looks up at me sort of dazed and confused. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably born with that look on his face. Then he smiles. “I knew I could count on you, Dustin. You’re always there for me.”
We’re in a diner off Cypress Creek road. One of those places modeled after a 1950s diner with a jukebox and waitresses with old-fashioned hairstyles.
I feel like this is a rerun of something. Not the diner, as in it feels like a rerun of “Happy Days” (all hail the Fonz), but rather that this meeting with Tom is a rerun. Perhaps I’ve done this before. Perhaps I’ve gotten this call before. It’s hard to know. Things kind of run together over time. But yeah, I’ve been here before.
“I was so hungry. Had no money. Knew I could count on you, that there is one person I can count on,” he says and starts scarfing down his philly cheese steak sandwich. “I hear you’ve been killing it. You’re a college graduate and everything. What are you doing right now?”
“Unemployed. Mostly living under a pier with a monkey and a bunch of homeless people.”
“That’s cool. Knew you were killing it. I just lost my job. It’s been tough since high school.”
I want to tell him that hard luck has always found him. He’s been unlucky since that first day of high school when...anyways that’s not what this is about.
“Listen, Tom. You and I, we’ve been growing apart. There is no easy way to say this, but I think I have to break up our friendship.”
“Yeah man, I’m glad I have friends like you I can count on. My parents kicked me out of the house again and I’ve been…”
Oh, I want to sympathize. I really do. I’m freshly kicked out of the house too, but I can’t get distracted. Otherwise, I’ll be meeting Tom in diners around Florida until I’m fifty, bailing him out of jail, or taking messages from his various ex-wives looking for him so that they can collect alimony…
“No, Tom, you’re not listening to me, man. You’re not going to call me again. This is the last time. I’m breaking off our friendship.”
“Whaaaaaattt! Nah, man we’ve been friends since high school. Man, I was there for you when…”
“Yeah, I know. And I’ve been there for you when your dad kicked you out of the house, when your mom kicked you out of the house, when Jamie Spencer wanted to kick your ass for making out with his girl, when Tina Smith broke up with you for giving her crabs, when you got caught cheating on your algebra exam, when you dropped out of your first semester of university and spent three weeks getting high in a closet with weed you got from me on credit…[two dozen other things omitted]...then when you needed a job, I helped you with that…”
“Man, you make it sound like I’m one big mooch…”
“You are one big mooch. If you’d listened to me just a second ago you would’ve heard that I am sleeping under a pier with a bunch of homeless guys and that I’m unemployed. I can’t remember one time you offered to help me out with anything…even when, well, let’s not mention that.”
“But Dustin, that’s because you’re naturally good at everything you do…Honestly, you should write a book. That’s how awesome you are.”
I love flattery. I want more, but I’m not falling for it this time. I look in Tom’s sad eyes. A diner, a public place. Breakups are never easy, but pruning your friends is absolutely necessary sometimes. There are radiators like J.P., people who pick you up... and then there’s Tom.
“I think my girlfriend might be…”
I close my ears, I can’t hear it.
“Tom,” I say, because I’ve rehearsed this and have to get it out before I lose my nerve, “someday, you’re going to be the kind of person who radiates success. People will want to be around you because they know good things will come to you and that you’ll fight through the tough times. They’ll come to you because they’ll be able to see your greatness coming from a mile away. I know you have the potential to be that person.”
I say it, even though I don’t believe it. I say it because I want to leave him with one last gift, a vision of his own possible greatness. But Tom...Tom is a drain. He’ll probably always be a drain.
“Tom, I’m leaving you now. Enjoy your sandwich. I got the check. This is on me. But this is the last time.” I wink at him and get up to leave.
As I’m about to leave the restaurant, he yells to me, “Aw, good one, Dustin. You’re always so smart, man. I’ll call you this weekend. We’ll get stoned together.”
No, you won’t, dude. I got a life to live.
Later, I give his number to J.P. and delete it from my phone. I’ll put up barriers to meeting Tom again. Maybe I’ll even send a harsh message next time he tries to contact me. Something like “Fuck Off” should do it. But I give his contact information to J.P. and tell him to keep tabs on him from time to time when we have a lull in our business schedule. Maybe do a little something for him, but not too much. And nothing that can be traced back to me.
Why?
Because even though pruning your friends is sometimes necessary, it’s not in my nature to give up on people...not completely. Giving up on people completely is bad humanity...and, at the end of the day, bad humanity is bad business.
If the Fonz were writing this book, he’d say the same thing.
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