Bad Boyfriends and Good Garlic Bread

My friend made the best damn garlic bread. She taught me how back when we were still friends. Once you know how, you realize it’s the only way to make garlic bread and it’s absolutely perfect. You mash a bunch of garlic into some butter or margarine. Then, you slice a loaf of good bread – but not quite all the way through. Make big fat slices, it’s garlic bread, you know? You stuff the mashed butter and garlic between the slices, wrap the whole thing in foil, and put it in the oven while you’re making your spaghetti. It’s delicious and reassuring and goes great with red sauce. Yeah, it’s dead simple, but I didn’t know how before my friend from A taught me.

We’re not friends any more because I couldn’t stand her boyfriend. He’s tall and handsome and funny and mean as a snake poked with a stick. When I last spent time with the two of them, I realized that every time someone walked away from a conversation, he’d make an uncharitable remark about them. She’s fat and shouldn’t be dressed in those shorts. He’s dumb as a sack of hammers. He’s short a chromosome or two, she shouldn’t be let out in public where people have to see her. “Oh no,” I thought. “He’s doing that to me, too.” Worse, I worried that he was doing it to my friend.

My friend and the mean boyfriend were having kind of a rough patch at the time. She asked me what I thought. I did not tell her. “I don’t like your boyfriend,” I did not say. “I can see the appeal, I mean, he’s dead handsome and clearly very smart, but he doesn’t LIKE anyone and he’s mean,” I did not say. “Of course you’re having a hard time,” I did not say. “Your boyfriend thinks he’s better than everyone else on the planet, probably you included. I’m surprised he thinks you’re good enough for him. He’s got it backwards, by the way, you are far too good for him.” I did not say any of those things. Instead I said some pale excuse, something like, “I don’t know him very well, but he doesn’t seem to be treating you any differently than anyone else.”

How pathetic.

You can not win in this situation. If the boyfriend is a jerk, but your friend is truly infatuated, there is nothing you can say. If you diss the boyfriend, you are the enemy. If you keep your mouth shut, you are a bad friend. I’m not talking abuse here – if that’s the case, you’ve got to DO something. I’m taking when you just don’t like the guy, when he’s arrogant or a pinhead or No Fun At All. What can you say? The boyfriend wins every time. If you’re lucky, they’ll break up and you’ll get your friend back. If they stay together, all you get is the garlic bread recipe.

There are few people on the planet that I’d have undertaken an epic adventure with – she was one. She has limitless common sense. She’s an excellent cook, be it in a home kitchen or at a woefully understocked camp kitchen. She is not a complainer, she’s the kind of person who will go for days without a shower and not even mention it. She can fix stuff that’s broken, even cars. She knows what makes great road trip music. She has a good eye with a camera, a sense of where to eat in a strange town, knows how to pitch and take down a tent in the rain and when to stop for coffee. In spite of our broken friendship, she remains in my mind one of the best travel companions I’ve ever known.

I remember, before things went south, before it was clear I was going to be voted out. We were standing somewhere, maybe at a supermarket checkout. “You girls can’t cross the desert alone,” the clerk said. We looked at each other. “Actually, yes, yes we can,” we both said. We meant it.

I hope I got it wrong and that I was just not reading the guy correctly, that I was the one being uncharitable. I haven’t heard from my friend in years and years. I used to send her a post card now and again, but I gave up when I got nothing in return. I hadn’t even thought about her until last night when I made garlic bread for dinner. She’s still with that boyfriend that I couldn’t stand, so I don’t think there’s a lot of hope for reconciling our friendship. As tragedies go, this isn’t a great one, but it is sad.

We washed down the garlic bread with red wine. Here’s to you, lost friend.