The Favor

Sometimes I wish I was a better person, but then common sense tells me it's better not to be... We got a call from an out of state friend last night, a person I took a long break from being friends with because of her chutzpah. Years ago, she asked me for a referral for a lawyer, the lawyer got her a perfect result, and then she grew angry and refused to pay when he sent her a bill. I was so outraged I cut her off, for years. But, as my grudges don't last too long, we renewed our friendship, and had some fine times. She possesses a spontaneity and vivaciousness that makes life fun when she's around... So last night came the call. She "hates to ask for a favor, but..." Ha. As if. She hates asking for favors like I hate asking for martinis at Trulucks... Her son, a nice enough kid, is, well, how to say this nicely, a loser. He's nearing his mid 20s and fails at everything. His mother sends him food money, and he uses it to party and drink. He was squatting at a relative's foreclosed house, but apparently that's ending. He needs to move out of state for awhile to pay a debt to the state... So the favor is, can he store his car here for about 2 months? I mean, I have a gate, so it'll be safe, and then Mom can stop paying the insurance, and in a few months he'll either come back to Miami to fetch it, or Mom will have it shipped up north... At first, the old Dave, the guy who never says no, kicked in. I mean, what's the big deal, right? I'd start the thing up every week, and move it around each time we have a get together, and remember to put up garbage cans as barriers if I have to move the thing next to the garage, where Wifey has backed into parked vehicles over 10 times... Then I thought about it. No. I rather love my scenic property and don't want it cluttered any more. D2 will be here for the summer, and friends will come and go, and each time there's a gathering, an extra car will require me to play valet parker, or traffic cop. So I emailed a rejection to the old friend. I don't blame her for asking, poor thing is at her wits' end about this young man she still feels she has to treat like a child... What is it with these guys? My Dad dropped as I turned 21, and I HAD to become a man. By 23 I was managing law school classes, a teaching and clerking job, and a live in girlfriend. I had to teach myself and THEN my mother how to balance a check book and pay bills. I'd no sooner have asked Mommy to look for a place to store my car than I'd have asked her to wipe my butt... I really see coming tragedy with many of these man-boys. I see well meaning parents unable to cut the cord, keeping older and older men infantilized. And somehow, to me, it's worse when they're male. A lucky girl can find a guy to take care of her -- it's much harder for a boy... But back to me, and my mean ness. Once again, old door mat Dave is hardening. Years ago, my boss Ed taught me a lesson. His wife had asked me to do some research, about Florida agriculture law, for her orchid hobby. I did it, and printed out the pages. I handed them to Ed, and told him they were what his wife DeeDee requested. Ed dropped the papers, saying "I don't schlep." What? I had done this for HIS wife -- what was the big deal about carrying home the papers. "David," he said -- "give them to Wiggins to take to her." Wiggins was the family and firm, well, schlepper. "If you schlep, that makes you a schlepper, my boy, and I didn't go to law school and build a big practice to schlep." And so it will be. I won't park.