Kalin Krohe is one of my best friends.
He makes every creative endeavor I attempt better; he is my lunch buddy; he has helped me through some of the hardest times of my life and shared in my greatest achievements.
But sometimes, as friends do, we get into a good old fashioned donnybrook.
Yesterday at lunch we somehow got onto the topic of Kalin’s vehicle, and he stated rather unequivocally that if I broke the handle of the passenger side door while opening it, he would demand that I pay for the repair. “Nope,” I replied, and we were off to the races.
During the discussion we each had moments of furious rage, but by the end we were laughing. This is how it is with friends. But Kalin is adamantine that if, upon an incidence of my opening the passenger door, the handle is to break or become non-functional, I will be responsible for the bill. (It’s $18.)
What’s more, a mutual friend of ours, whose opinion I respect, says Kalin is right to expect me to pay the bill.
What I would like to do now is lay out the cold, hard, unbiased facts as I know them, and see what you–the two and-a-half people who read this blog-believe. I have already told Kalin that I’ll pay the damn bill if the handle breaks, but I do so under protest. So, then, the facts, beginning with Mr. Krohe’s arguments:
Kalin carts my butt everywhere. He gives me a ride to lunch and back everyday, and most days he gives me a ride home from work. I try, whenever possible, to express my gratitude for his kindness. I have even been known to buy him lunch every once in a while. He also does nice things for me, like bringing me McDonald’s despite his hatred of McDonald’s.
Kalin has expressed his dissatisfaction with how I open the passenger side door. I apparently open it too vigorously, which shocks me considering I’m an 87-pound weakling. But I am taking steps to be more delicate in my door openage.
Kalin believes that if you break something, you should pay for it. He has regaled me with tales of him breaking his friends’ possessions, and them breaking his, and in each case the breaker always pays the breakee. I will address this momentarily, but for now I’ll say Kalin must have some clumsy friends for all the examples he gave me. (The irony is not lost on me that I myself am absolutely Kalin’s clumsiest friend.)
These are Kalin’s weapons of rhetoric as I believe he has stated them to me. Now, my response.
Kalin’s vehicle was released when Bill Clinton was president. I don’t feel like I have to elaborate too far on this, but here goes: Kalin bought the vehicle from the radio station after it was used for many, many years as a company vehicle. Which means it had a full life before he even took ownership. Who knows why the passenger side door handle is a little shaky? Maybe the vehicle was hit by a deer. Maybe hooligans stripped the top-quality new door handle to sell on the secondary market and replaced it with a janky, barely-hanging-on handle. (Okay, that’s unlikely. But the point is made.)
If the handle busts while I am attempting to open the door, that does not inexorably lay the blame at my feet. It’s an old car. Parts atrophy. It’s one thing if I’m at Kalin’s house and take his framed portrait of The Riverfront Boys and throw it through his window. That is plainly malicious destruction of property. (And impossible for me to do, unless someone used a glass cutter to loosen the window up beforehand.) Me being the one with his hand on the handle when the unthinkable happens is pure fate, and NOT fait accompli.
I am Kalin’s friend. I feel like an 18-dollar fix is not something you saddle a friend with. I feel that my friendship and loyalty to Kalin–my generosity to him–serves to cover me on a broken door handle. Again–if I started carrying a Morning Star as a hobby and, in my reckless fervor, punctured holes in all 4 of Kalin’s tires–well, now you’re talking. Absolutely, give me the bill. My bad.
Okay, blog readers: it’s time to TALK BACK! Who is in the right in this brou-ha-ha?