Well Meaning Friend

Volume XIII
Issue 7
July 2010

QuestionLady is written and played by SL Stukey, herself an Obscure Celebrity of a sort. It is likely that somewhere, sometime, you have read something she has written, especially if you live in the Midwestern United States. She has been writing promotional material, instruction manuals, and other such everyday literature for many years (she'd say how many, if she could remember what year she started, it was 1989, or maybe 1991). She always thought she'd be a real writer someday, but she's not holding her breath anymore.

She can be contacted at:

Well Meaning Friend

This month, QuestionLady met with her interview subject, Well Meaning Friend, in the good old Globe-Guardian offices. I would describe Well Meaning Friend, but you know what she looks like. You’ve met her before, probably more often than you like to remember. We met in the Globe-Guardian offices because Well Meaning Friend, while still a friend, does not come over to my house since the jam incident. (More about that later.) Since Well Meaning Friend was early, and QuestionLady was running late, Well Meaning Friend had a few minutes alone in the office. So, when QuestionLady walked in . . .

Well Meaning Friend (pleased): I put those books that were in the box back on the shelf for you.

QuestionLady: Well, actually, those were ones I was taking to the used book store.
WMF: Oh, I'm sorry.

QL: You're always sorry. You were sorry when you melted all my spatulas while stirring the jam.
WMF(hurt): You might have told me not to use those spatulas. I was only trying to help.

QL: That was partly my fault. I should have hidden the spatulas, and put out the wooden spoons. But the disintegrating dishtowels were not my fault. True, they were old dishtowels and the jam did stain them. But they were perfectly serviceable until you put them in the sink with straight bleach.
WMF: I was just trying to help. I thought you would like to have clean, unstained dishtowels.

QL: I would have preferred to have stained dishtowels that were in one piece. And you were just trying to help when you used steel wool to scrub a hole in the enamel of my jam cooker. But enough about the jam incident. I've brought you here to ask the question we all want to know: Why do you do these things?

[long pause]

WMF: What do you mean?

QL: Why do you keep interfering in people's lives when your track record shows that you tend to do more harm than good?
WMF(defensively): I have good intentions. I'm trying to help.

QL: Well, they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

[another long pause]

QL: Not that I'm implying anything about you personally.
WMF(tearfully): People don't understand. I'm trying to do what's best for my friends.

QL: Like when you told X that Y was seeing someone on the side.
WMF: But she was. I thought he had the right to know.

QL: He knew, all right. Y was seeing a counselor. X and Y were trying to work out some problems.
WMF: But she was so secretive about it.

QL: They didn't want to advertise their problems.
WMF: How did you know?

QL: Both X and Y called me after that party where you stood up, pointed a finger at Y, and told everyone she was a Jezebel. They thought I might have some influence over you.
WMF: You never told me about that.

QL: Didn't think it would help. I told them it would be better to laugh it off and make it seem like you were drunk and making stuff up. Which you were.
WMF: Was not. Y was seeing someone else. No matter what you say now.

QL: Have it your way. Apparently it wasn't serious, since X and Y are still together.

[pause]

QL: Back to my question. Why do you keep butting in?
WMF: I always mean well. I want to help.

QL: But you aren't helping.
WMF: People need my help. They just don't understand that I'm trying to help.

QL: You don't actually help people. You make things worse.
WMF: My intentions are good.

QL: Ok, I think we've got that. But sometimes good intentions aren't enough.
WMF: They are for me.

QL: I guess that says it all.
WMF: I think I remember which books were in the box; let me pull them back off the shelf.

QuestionLady hastily escorts Well Meaning Friend out of the office, before she can offer any more assistance. QuestionLady spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through books. At last report, QuestionLady has not heard about any helpful actions of Well Meaning Friend, but knows it is only a matter of time.

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