We Know of Each Other

She is not that kind of friend. She is more of an acquaintance. She was a co-worker many years ago. Briefly, I was her boss. We had a cordial relationship, but nothing I would categorize as “friends”. Yet, when the employment circumstances forced us to part ways, we traded email addresses and said we’d keep up, the way folks who worked together companionably do.

Like many of the others (the company that employed us went through a monumental change and 90% of the staff was laid off) who danced this ritual, the expectation was that after a few emails, perhaps a holiday greeting or two, new lives would emerge and communication wane.

Not Joan. A decade later and Joan still emails. To say that Joan and I have nothing in common would be the understatement of the millennium. Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. We do in fact, both wear glasses and we’re both women. Soon, we’ll both be in our fifties, though I think by the time I’m in my fifties she’ll be in her sixties. Or at least, knock, knock, knocking on that door.

Our dance, Joan’s and mine usually begins, “Hi Debbie: I haven’t heard from you in a long while.. " And that would be because we’re not friends and certainly not confidantes. And yeah, she has always called me Debbie despite my gentle prodding when we worked together, Deborah. She continues, “write you this little note to find out if you are okay and what is going on with you.”

A little background, I get one of these haven’theardfromyouinalongtime emails every 5 or 6 weeks. I reply with a short, friendly or rather cordial update of the current surface factoids of my life. In my reply I inquire in-kind and get zilch in return, until another 5 or 6 weeks. That is unless she’s in the middle of a crisis with her “man friend” or in possession of gossip concerning another former co-worker that she's itching to spill.

She finishes, “I am okay. Please write soon and let me know what is going. God bless you, Joan”.

As previously noted, my replies are short and to a particular point. Given that we have very little in common, there is little in the way of quid pro quo and I'm rankled by the write soon directives, I should probably refrain from replying at all.

But I do, mainly because she has the number (and extension) to the job. She will call if I don't reply. I know, she's done it. Trust me when I say, addressing Joan's sporadic emails is a more palatable exercise than conversing with Joan on the telephone.

Be that as it may, I am of the mind to re-assess my approach to one Miss Joan.