Robin puts down her iced oat latte and says, “I’m thinking about switching the mental health issues I deal with on a daily basis.”
Her friend, Evelynn, looks up from her book and raises her eyebrows. “Mental health issues aren’t like subscriptions, hun. You can’t just switch them up, like deleting your Netflix account and signing up for HBO.”
“HBO’s subscription product is called Max,” says Robin.
“I know,” says Evelynn, “But I still call it HBO. Just like I still call X Twitter.”
“I’m not talking about my own mental health issues. I’m thinking about switching jobs.”
Evelynn rolls her eyes. “Are you also looking for higher compensation?”
“Not necessarily.”
“People say that, but it’s okay to admit you want more money.”
“The thing is…”
“Your boss is an asshole, you’ve told me.” Evelynn sets her book down.
“Your tone says you don’t believe me.” Robin takes a sip, wishes she wasn’t lactose intolerant.
“Compared to my boss…”
“Mine is an angel, so you’ve told me. Has anyone ever told you that comparison is the thief of…”
“Nothing. People have told me that. But comparison hasn’t robbed me of anything. It’s a useful tool that everyone uses to figure out what they want. I’m not after joy anyways.”
“What are you after, Evelynn? Cause right now, all you seem to be after is disagreeing with me.”
“I’m after money. That’s why I put up with the bullshit my boss throws my way.”
“And you think it’s a fair trade?”
“Not fair. No employment arrangement is fair. Just the best I think I can do. There’s a big difference between justice and the best you can do. One is a fairytale. The other is possible.”
“You don’t think I can get anything better than what I currently have.”
“Honestly, right now, I think you could only do marginally better. And the costs of switching—the administrative time and energy of switching insurance providers, restarting the process of building interpersonal and professional equity inside a new organization, the weight of pretending to care about new products and services, not to mention the humiliation of the interview process—these costs are all too much, too much for marginally better anyways.”
Robin closes her eyes, trying to process her friend’s raw response. “You would make a terrible career coach,” she says, trying to defend herself.
“Actually, I think I’d make a great one.”
“Of course you would.”
“Of course I should.”
Robin reaches for her purse. “I think I’m going to go.”
“Oh thank god,” says Evelynn, “I thought this conversation might go on and on, and I’d never be able to get back to my book.”
Disgusted, Robin leaves.
Gleeful, Evelynn returns to her reading.
—
When witnessing the end of a friendship, as you have just done, it isn’t always easy to interpret the logic behind the displayed spite.
The reason behind Evelynn’s combative frankness was her suspicion that Robin may have a crush on her girlfriend, Christine. Robin and Christine flirt too much. But that’s over now.
Robin had sensed Evelynn pulling back in the friendship, so she brought up one of her regular complaints (about her boss), testing Evelynn’s capacity for another bitching session. Obviously, Evelynn did not pass the test.
Three months after this exchange, Robin will invite Evelynn to a NYE party. It will appear as a gesture of goodwill and an attempt at the “hey maybe we’re still friends we just had a spat a few months ago and god have things been busy but we can still have fun when it’s time to celebrate” gesture. However, Evelynne will reply “sorry can’t make it, have other plans,” and the friendship-has-ended seal will be complete.