Why I quit smoking

When I heard someone shout my name at the Cubs game on Sunday, I turned around to see "DJ," someone I used to know in college. I haven't seen him in about 7 years. Quite the surprise. He looks the same, only bigger. (Why is it that women get old, but men get fat?)

Back then, he had tried to date me, but thankfully, I dodged that landmine and we became friends. He was fun to hang out with, had an interesting job and knew some fascinating people.

As usual, I was entirely too generous in my friendship with him, throwing him a 17-hour surprise birthday party (at his house). Prior to that, I had talked him into asking a woman to the Farm Aid concert (he later married, and divorced her).

Over the years, I've attended the birthday parties for his twin sons and have joined him for other special events where I've met his parents and siblings (who, apparently, still ask about me).

What happened, you may ask?

About one year after my divorce, I was asked to participate in a bachelorette auction. Needless to say, I was more than a little nervous, putting my entire self worth on display for a bunch of strangers to decide if I was worth bidding on. I decided to ask whatever male friends I had to attend and start the bidding.

I asked DJ and he said he couldn't afford it ($25), so I said I'd front the ticket. He said he didn't have a suit (didn't need one). He didn't have a previously scheduled work event, mind you. He had tons of lame excuses for why he couldn't help me. It occurred to me that he was NEVER there when I needed him.

Like smoking, my friendship with DJ was bad for me: expensive (in my time and efforts), damaging (in the numerous disappointments) with no real benefits (other than meeting fun people).

So I quit cold turkey.

When I saw him on Sunday, it was our first contact since the auction years ago. He said he figured I hated him since he hadn't seen me in a long time. But he didn't know why we lost touch. (He never made any effort to contact me).

I held no punches. "You were never there for me when I needed you. Being friends with you was too much work, so I quit."

It was like talking to a wall. My words had absolutely no effect. Teflon Man.

He chatted away about his parents and siblings. He's at the same job, but has a different wife (his third). She walked up as we talked and although I tried to direct my conversation to both of them, she seemed indifferent to my presence. I saw pictures of their combined family (his two boys, now teens, her teenage daughter, and their baby girl). I wonder how long this one will last?

You know? I can breathe better already.

And no, no sign of Cubfan and that is fine with me.