My Frenemy Balaji

A few days ago, Balaji came down to Chennai from Seattle. We met for breakfast and played catch up for a couple of hours. Amma invited him over for lunch, before which we decided to continue yakking at home in my room. A short while later, I got a call which I had to take and unfortunately, it ended up taking longer than I thought it would. As luck would have it, Balaji got a couple of calls himself while I was on the phone and he took them outside the room.

He came back in about 10 minutes later and started typing on the computer and once he was done, he pointed me to it. This is what he’d written:

My Frenemy Balaji

What are we? Freakin’ teenagers? *aaaaarrrrgggghhh* Whoever it was that said, “With friends like these, you don’t need enemies,” definitely had Balaji in mind.

This is all about you, Frenemy Husband

This one played out a few years ago, but it’s still rather fresh in my memory simply because of how big a jackass this guy was being. Here’s how it played out:

A few years ago, I paid a visit to a soon-to-be mother. Unfortunately, she was having health complications and her mother had flown in from overseas to help take care of her. They finally figured out that the health complications were due to some problems with her heart. Obviously, we were all very concerned for her and her parents were getting very worried as the levels of water retention rose causing her to swell to about twice her normal (pregnant) size. But by the grace of the divine, things worked out and due to very good care, they were able to overcome the complications and had a beautiful baby.

But over the entire time, once it was found that the heart condition could potentially (not certainly, but potentially) be genetic in nature, the husband kept repeating that his wife had a “manufacturing defect”. He made it a point to do this, repeatedly, in front of her parents, siblings and friends who were already distraught and worried for her.

I guess with a frenemy like that for a husband, the rest of her life is going to be wonderful.

Oh, and my response to him, with a sweet smile, of course: Some manufacturing defects are physical. Some mental. We all know which type we have, now don’t we?

Introducing “This is all about you, Frenemy”

This is a first in a recurring series I want to run titled “This is all about you, Frenemy.” wherein I relate incidents of ‘interesting’ behavior I encounter / hear of. And yes, Sherlock, ‘interesting’ here is a euphemism in every possible way. Considering how catty I would get in the process, I might fast run out of “friends”, were I to actually name the frenemy – so I won’t, but told the stories must be. So, here’s the first one:

I’ve known this couple for a few years and somewhere along the way I found myself getting invited to dinner at their place, except it followed this pattern of being called on a Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning for dinner on Sunday and went something like this: “Hey Vijay, why don’t you come over for dinner? We had a party on Friday and there’s lots of delicious leftovers.”

I guess there must be something about me that makes me not quite good enough to be invited to the actual parties but ideally suits me to consume leftovers. Thinking about this for a bit, since this couple is into charitable causes big time, they perhaps see me as one? Or perhaps, it’s my large form factor they confuse for something else. If I could only figure out what it is, I’d try to improve myself so I could be ‘good enough’ to be invited to the parties.

Mmmm – no. I think I’ll just be busy that night and go find myself some different folks to hang out with.