A story in which I stop being a nice guy.
I'm still not too certain about this one, but here goes.

I have a friend who's a bit of a mad artist type. Ever seen Mystery Men? Remember Dr. Heller, who made non-lethal weapons and lived in an abandoned amusement park and was played by Tom Waits? I swear they modeled that character on this guy. Brilliant, talented, imaginative, and utterly cracked. Lives in a basement apartment next to a synagogue, existing on a diet of frozen pizza, diet cola, various snack foods and cigarettes. He only does enough work to get by, and that on an irregular basis. Let's call him Sparky for this story.

He's been a good friend to me over the years, so I ignore the idiosyncrasies and the intense stench that always seems to cling to him. And I've hired him a few times to do things around my house, such as taking down threes in my yard and building a brick patio for me. He kinda shows whenever he gets motivated enough, but the quality of his work is always top notch.

Recently he told me that he's starving and needs some work. I hesitated, then asked him for a price to build a fire pit in my back yard in the middle of the patio he had built three years before. He named a price that was certainly not cheap, but I had enough cash to cover it, so I agreed.

He came out there and marked bricks one day and talked, a lot. I brought out his wet saw (I had to transport him and his equipment because his truck's registration and inspection are both expired, and his license was suspended until he paid off a fine), but it needed a new motor (he had burned it out yet again), a new water tray (broken, god knows how) and a new blade (worn down to a smooth steel disc, incapable of cutting through wet cardboard). So I obtained the parts- about half the price that we had agreed upon.

Eventually he came back, arriving mid-afternoon with a hangover and stumbling about, then took up the bricks and started cutting the ones that needed to be cut and mixed and poured the concrete I had bought. It then needed to dry for a couple of days. We fed him again that night and I drove him home.

It was at least a week before he returned. I had asked him where I might find the stone needed for the job, and he told me to go look in one area of downtown for some scrap he had seen. At the time it was Sunday, raining, and it was early afternoon- and he was so hung over and still drunk that he couldn't get out of bed for more than a couple of minutes at a time. I ended up snagging all of the stone myself from a couple of sources- some legitimately, some not- and driving back to see him with it. He was finally able to get up long enough to look at what I had, then asked for a ride to the store for more pizza and diet cola and cigarettes. I did so, then drove the load home and unloaded it- still in the rain- and waited for him to return.

It was a full week before he reappeared. He got there, but got a massive and apparently crippling case of the hiccups, so he wasn't able to do anything. I drove him home again.

He appeared again and got a circle of stones set. Not bad, a decent enough beginning... but he had spent hours chatting with my neighbors. Again, food and a ride home.

He returned some days later and did little to nothing before I came home at 6:00, then started cutting stone for the top layer. Not much had been done- he had laid out the stones he wanted to use and showed me roughly how it would go- but now he cut for the next two hours until it got dark. This was this past Friday.

By now my girlfriend was getting increasingly angry about all of this- for weeks our patio had been torn to bits, rocks everywhere and cigarette butts all over, sharp chips of stone in the grass that cut her feet, and me apologizing and making excuses for Sparky's behavior. He had begged for the last of the money from the job, as he owed a friend most of it, and reluctantly I agreed, but told him I would be back for him early on Sunday. No problem, he could finish it in less than four hours. I fed him and dropped him off.

Sunday about 10:00 I show up, prepared to take him to the store on the way and get us some breakfast- and find his apartment locked up, and him not there. No answer on his phone either.

I had had enough.

I went home, mixed mortar and started setting things myself. Some of the stones needed additional cutting, so I cleaned out the mess he had left in the wet saw (an inch of powdered stone formed a layer on the bottom of the tray, and the pump was getting clogged with it), set it up and started cutting. I got most of it done that day, interspersed with calls to his phone. Nothing that day, nothing that night- but I saw him on Myspace and sent him a message stating that I needed to talk to him RIGHT NOW, as I've had enough. He never replied.

I finished the work yesterday- or at least, mostly finished it as I still need to point up the mortar here and there. I kept calling, and now I left a harsh voicemail to the effect that as I had finished the job due to his complete absence and unreachable state, I was keeping the wet saw and calling it even.

He called me this morning and was livid. He had gone out of town on Saturday and gotten stranded when his friends didn't feel like driving back home while there was still weed to be smoked and beer to drink, and hadn't gotten back until late yesterday afternoon. He had forgotten his phone, which had run out of charge due to my calling it twenty or thirty times, so he had been unable to contact me. And he was really steamed that I was keeping his saw, and hung up on me. (In truth I really don't want the goddam thing, I just wanted to get his ass over there to finish the job- but as I have said I was going to do so, now I pretty much have to keep it.)

I hate feeling like a bastard, but after a month of this chaos I've had it.

He is on his way downhill in a very bad way. He's three years younger than I am, but his hair is grizzled and ragged, his skin color is bad, his already dubious hygiene has become non-existent, and his behavior is more than just erratic now. He still wants to be 20 and party all night and live hand to mouth as he's done for all these years, and it's killing him- if he keeps this up I don't think he'll last more than another five years at the outside. I can't be part of watching someone I know and have loved as a friend self-destruct like this.

I quit being a nice guy.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 27 May 2008, 20:09, 22 replies)

don't feel bad
you've done more than many would have done already.
There are ways to help him, but only if he wants to get himself sorted first.
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Tue 27 May 2008, 20:27, closed)

Thanks...
I've been stewing all day about whether or not I'm doing the right thing.

I think the way I may end up handling it as to bring back his boom box and the other odds and ends he's left in my yard and leave them on his step without a word, wait a week or two and then bring the saw back to him with a long hard conversation as to why I finally lost my patience. (I really don't want the saw, and not having it will mean he can't do stone work. I don't want to ruin him- I just really want to shake him up, hard.)

I feel guilty about this, but... a month of living with a pile of rocks in my back yard and a very unhappy girlfriend because he couldn't be arsed to stay sober and get himself where he said he would be at the time he promised to be there, or even to be home when he said he would be is just too damn much. I've gone over to his place several times after he said he'd be there and never showed and been nice about it. I've been nothing but patient and reasonable. But fucking off for a weekend and skipping out on me yet again because he couldn't be arsed to do what he swore he would do was just more than I could stand...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 27 May 2008, 20:39, closed)

@ancrenne
Fair point.

I just hate to have a long-term friendship end like this...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 27 May 2008, 20:44, closed)

Surely being a nice guy and being charitable are different things?
I think being a nice guy is too much to throw away because of one guy.

However, throwing away being charitable isn't going to be too much of a bad thing to you and your close ones.
(Belgaer is, Tue 27 May 2008, 20:44, closed)

Again, a good point.
I guess what's really bothering me is that I had to take a much harder stance than I wanted to, and feel guilty about doing so.

On the other hand, maybe it will be a wake-up call to him...

But if not, I will really need to walk away and not look back. I can't afford to get sucked into his chaos.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 27 May 2008, 21:46, closed)

I see your point,
I really do. I just think that it's a bit saddening to see you give up on being a nice guy because of that. Innit?
(Belgaer is, Tue 27 May 2008, 21:55, closed)

I should clarify that.
I'm giving it up relative to Sparky. I've been down this path before, with similar results. I had just hoped it would be different with him, as he's far smarter than the people I've had that problem with in the past.

I've had to be confrontational a lot this weekend- this was just the most egregious instance.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 27 May 2008, 22:05, closed)

*virtual hugs*
It's always sad to see an intelligent person waste away. I hope that whatever you decide to do works and I have confidence that it will be the right decision. You're intelligent yourself and surely know what you're doing.

*brushes his teeth to get rid of the taste of shit*
(Belgaer is, Tue 27 May 2008, 22:47, closed)

Key rule in life - but a hard one
never reinforce failure. One can "be there" as much as possible for people who are genuinely trying to change their circumstances. Help, support, encourage those who need your help to change and - crucially - are changing.
Those that can't or won't change - you're wasting your time. And worse, your actions in trying to help enable them to carry on fucking up.
It's a common experience when dealing with anybody with addictions or who make irresponsible lifestyle choices.
None of us are perfect, but don't reinforce failure. Remember the serenity prayer - about learning the difference between taking actions that can achieve an effect, and not taking those that unfortunately can't make a difference.
Hard lesson though if like you (and hopefully like me) one is a "nice guy".
( I_Was_Mordred, Wed 28 May 2008, 0:34, closed)

That's absolute fucking bullshit.
Who is to decide who is a failure and who isn't? He makes a living, or more lives, by doing work for people. He gets by how he likes to and that's his choice. Not doing the work, okay, that's failing. But from what I understand from TRL's story, this is the first time it's been that bad...

I could be wrong. But I still stand by my question of "Who decides who is a failure and who isn't?"
(Belgaer is, Wed 28 May 2008, 0:43, closed)

Well, personally,
I would feel like a failure if a friend of mine offered me some work, I consistently failed to do it, got all the money off him in advance and prioritised getting pissed and stoned over and above doing the work which I'd been paid to do.
You might have different standards to that, fair enough, but to me this guy has failed and any more support given to him until he realises the connection between being paid money and the necessity of doing the fucking job wouldn't be doing anyone a favour. These actions might (just about) be forgiveable in a young, inexperienced person, but someone over 30 behaving like this. Failure.
Success isn't about money, or "achievement" but it is about not using other people and having some standards of morals and ethics. And often those people who are the most at fault in having those minimal standards are the ones who moan the most when anyone serves them up the same shit they liberally dish out to others.
( I_Was_Mordred, Wed 28 May 2008, 0:53, closed)

Regardless of that,
you made it come across as though he should've seen it before the work began. Which, as I said in my above post, it would appear he completed work perfectly up until this point. You said that failures shouldn't be encouraged as though he was a failure before these series of events.

That would mean you think him living a lifestyle different from the norm is failing, which I strongly disagree with.
(Belgaer is, Wed 28 May 2008, 0:56, closed)

No, I wasn't saying that.
Like other posters, I was trying to make TRL feel better about the decision he has taken.
People can have as alternative a lifestyle as they want. Personally, I admire greatly those who don't stick to the mainstream route, as it takes guts to escape the consumerist trap most of us are caught up in.
But once that lifestyle becomes dependent on others without offering something back in return, then one is not being "alternative", one is using other people.
Freedom costs; expecting others to pick up the tab is not the action of anyone other than a user. Many of us have been more in the debit side in early years, then realised the error of our ways and taken up our load.
( I_Was_Mordred, Wed 28 May 2008, 1:02, closed)

I've just read your post to this weeks question about not employing people...
And I now fear that you'd label me as a failure. Which slightly irritates me. I think that you have too much self pride in what you've done for yourself but fail to notice that it's not all down to personal effort. (straying a bit from Sparky, here)

I myself fucked up 3 years ago. I accept that, but I still suffer from it now. I realise and take the blame for my fuckup, but that's going to be a burden on me for the rest of my life, because no ammount of effort will get me out of what I'm in too easily. What I need is other people to give me the chance.

Which isn't going to happen if there are people out there classing me as a failure or unworthy of kindness because of something which I did when I was 15 and stupid.
(Belgaer is, Wed 28 May 2008, 1:10, closed)

was about to reply being intelligent and stuffs
then realised Ancrenne said it oh so much better than i could have

*tips hat*
(Patfish, Wed 28 May 2008, 9:37, closed)

@Belgaer
I've been trying to figure out what you could have done at 15 that would continue to haunt you now. Short of being convicted of sexually assaulting toddlers, I can't think of anything that people would continue to hold against you. Apparently whatever it was, you've learned your lesson- which is all anyone really asks.

In the case of my friend, he has been doing the same sort of shit for well over 20 years now. When you do something again and again and keep hoping for a different outcome, it's called insanity. If it's not harming anyone else it can be laughed off, but if it is making problems for others it becomes a serious issue. In his case he relies far too heavily on the charity of others- he doesn't really do enough to get by, just enough to supplement what he can beg off of others.

I know people who do oddball freelance work and do quite well at it, but they're disciplined enough to start a job and work through it, hard. With Sparky he'll start a job, do a day's work on it, then go hang out with friends until 4:00 and smoke weed and drink and play chess and watch movies, then not show up for a day or two and be unreachable by phone. When he does show up it will be early afternoon, he'll be blinking and disoriented for an hour or two, then he'll work for a couple of hours until it's too dark to work, go home and get together with his friends again. That's behavior one expects from a 20 year old kid just starting out, not a 42 year old man who's been doing this for decades.

In the case of this job, it was simple and straightforward- I figured that even with his habits it would take no more than a week, two at the outside. But it's been a month, and when I've gone by in the afternoons on weekends to get him going, he comes blinking and stumbling to the door, plainly still recovering from whatever he was doing the night before. This has happened multiple times, and I've expressed concern over this and asked him what was wrong, and gotten nowhere with it.

Now, however, I've gotten his attention. Yesterday we had a major confrontation over the phone, and I shut off my mobile because I needed to concentrate on work. When I switched it back on after work there were 12 text messages from him on it, basically begging for the opportunity to finish the work and get his tools back. Being the far-too-soft-for-his-own-good type that I am, I'll likely agree to let him do it and take his saw home- but this is the absolute last time, ya know? And it's going to come with conditions so that I don't get stuck with this shit again.

But after that, he'll go to hell on his own terms, and I won't try to stop him. He's bent on self-destruction, and all I would be able to do is tangle myself up in it and get injured with him.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 28 May 2008, 13:20, closed)

It'd seem I misunderstood what you said about him,
I got the impression that up until now the slow pace was fine as the work got done well etc.

My apologies.
(Belgaer is, Wed 28 May 2008, 14:09, closed)

I don't mean to put a damper on things
but I also know far too many people like that, some of them nearing 50 now. And much as this is a guy that you've known and loved for a long time, he is not going to change. He sounds like an addict. Someone who will take your money and fuck you over to that extent, and then only ring you back up begging to be of help when he has pissed your money away yet again is not someone who cares about you. He wants what you can provide for him, and nothing else. You are not a bastard, this guy is making you feel like one even though he is the one that is fucking you over, emotionally and financially. And I also think that your girlfriend's feelings should come into play too. If she was that upset by both his impact on you, and the state of the house, then you need to decide who is more important to you. Don't feel bad about it, you have already done far too much.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Wed 28 May 2008, 14:13, closed)

I found something very interesting
and relevant over on www.fray.com in the archives of the old site- it was posted in the comments after one of the stories. It's almost eerie how closely it parallels this mess.

===========================================

John's not his name. He had been a friend. A very good friend. A work associate. He talked to me when he couldn't talk to anyone else, and occasionally I had felt the same way towards him. That was then. Not anymore. There he stood at my front door. Smiling. Trying to pretend what had happened didn't happen. Trying to pretend I didn't know what he had done to others and what he was still doing to himself. Trying to pretend my advice to him hadn't fallen on his deaf ears. Wanting me to invite him in. I inhaled, and even from some feet away, I could tell.

Smoking pot in and of itself isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's not my bag, but up until this moment it hadn't been a deciding factor on whether or not someone could be my friend. However, when smoking pot and doing other drugs causes a person to lose their job, fight with their spouse, put their child in mortal jeopardy, and alienate oneself from his friends?

He was still smoking pot. He was still throwing his life away.

"So. How is she?"

"She?" He thought for a second. "Oh. Well. She kicked me out."

"The other she. What about your daughter?"

"I'll see her. Now and then. I suppose. I'm living somewhere else now."

"Divorce?"

"Yeah." We shared a knowing look. I glanced back at my wife who was typing at the computer within earshot. Pending divorce was one last thing he and I had in common.

I nodded, "Yeah. Good luck with that," I went to close the door.

He put a hand up, blocking the door. His eyes were pleading. "Zach? What did I do?"

I levelled my eyes at him, my voice tired and dismissive, "You're here for money again."

"No! ..okay yes. I'll pay you back."

"Thought you said you were gonna quit, John."

"I did."

I shook my head and frowned. "Another lie. I can smell it on you from here."

"Zach?"

"Bye John."

Have I ever been taught a lesson? Every day. That day, I learned that one can only save a drowning man if he wants to be saved. If he keeps insissting on swallowing the salty water even after he knows it's slowly killing him, there's nothing one can do about it. That day I learned I'm no savior, and that I can't save someone from drowning because I don't know how to swim.

I closed the door on his pleading, dialated eyes.

I never saw him again.

ZachsMind 13 Jul 2003
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 28 May 2008, 14:40, closed)