Not A Fun Day

Dear Jewish Fairy Godmother:

Every year I go to an annual local arts and music festival (a three-day
weekend) with a certain friend. We have a way to get in early by
helping a mutual friend set up her booth, and then get to stroll for
several uninterrupted hours before the “tourists” come. While the
paths are crowded (think 10,000 people) we tend to camp out in one
of the music venues, alternating between saving seats and going for
food and bathroom runs. We walk about 5-7 miles all told, hear great
music, and often find unique art to bring home. It is a start of summer
tradition that we both value.


This year another friend asked if she could join is, and, against both of our
better judgment, we said yes. She was no help with set-up, and slow and
whiney most of the day, particularly when we didn’t want to change our habits
and brave the overcrowded afternoon hours moving through crowds. Then she
wanted to leave several hours earlier than we did and complained
bitterly on the ride home several hours later (after we had parked her
in the shade by some good music to chill out) about what bad
hostesses we were and declared “After today, I don’t even like you!”
Should we attempt to ameliorate this situation or just see if it blows

Not A Fun Day

Dear Not A Fun Day:

I always advocate communication instead of passive-aggressive
silence. Your friend sounds like a handful in the best of times, and in
the worst, someone I too would want to park in the shade and walk
away from. I’m assuming you told her the rules of the days when she
first asked to come along, as in: This is when we leave, how long we
stay, what we do, etc etc. If she came along with full knowledge, most
of the responsibility for the angst is on her, though you bear some
burden for not predicting her meltdown in advance and having had her
agree to a default plan to get an early ride home or take a nap till you
were ready.

As for now, write her an email that says basically: I’m sorry you had a
hard time. We told you what the day was like and that’s what it was.
Maybe this isn’t your scene but it is ours and perhaps we erred by
sharing it with someone who’d never been there before. I hope you
recover from your fit of pique. Call me when you’re ready to chat
about other things. As the old saying goes, that puts the poop in her
pocket, and you can close the door on this chapter with an easy