What, in the first place, is a friend? I believe that friends understand, accept, and trust in each other, and also that they help one another out in times of trouble…
— from the Client Partners website.
Apparently, travel writer Chris Colin found himself in Japan, without any friends.
…I’m new in Tokyo, and sweaty, and jet-lagged. But I am entirely at ease. I owe this to my friend Miyabi. She’s one of those reassuring presences, warm and eternally nodding and unfailingly loyal, like she will never leave my side. At least not for another 90 minutes, which is how much of her friendship I’ve paid for…
Mr. Colin’s article on Afar.com, “The Incredibly True Story of Renting a Friend in Tokyo”, describes his experience renting, on various separate occasions, Japanese friends named Miyabi, Yumi, Taka, and Yusuke through a Japanese rental agency called Client Partners.
For a price, the friends obtained through Client Partners will understand, accept and trust you.
You can even rent a whole Japanese family… if you need a bit more affection and acceptance… and if your pocketbook can handle it.
As far as I know, we don’t have such an agency in Pagosa Springs. People here have to find their friends the old fashioned way. Which, in too many cases, means hanging out in a bar well past midnight, until everybody starts feeling like your best friend. This works best if you’re the one buying the drinks.
Problem is, you can’t remember who they were, the following morning. And your wallet’s empty.
I’ve never liked bars, so most of my friends, down through the years, were people who worked in the same office with me. In that situation, the company was footing the bill for our friendships. But they were most often fairweather friends. When I would finally get laid off or fired, they’d start acting like they didn’t know me.
Even when I’m somehow lucky enough to form a real, lasting friendship, the person eventually wants to borrow money from me. And when I refuse, well, that’s the end of that.
So I admit I sort of like the ‘Client Partners’ idea. For a couple of reasons.
For one thing, I believe I could be good at being a paid friend. Pretending to accept and understand a complete stranger for a few hours? I could handle that.
Acting like I can be trusted with confidential information? I could be that kind of friend, if I was paid enough. Like, more than minimum wage. And if tipping was allowed.
Also, it seems like our economy is headed down the toilet, in terms of job opportunities. Jobs of all types are being handed over to robots and other machines. But I suspect the engineers will never be able to make a robot that can be a true friend. When I talk to Siri on my iPhone, for example, I can tell that she doesn’t really care about me. It’s pretty obvious that she’s only doing her job.
But real people can honestly care about you, if you pay them enough.
I could do that. I could honestly care about you. Whoever you are. We could look at a Pagosa Springs guidebook together, and laugh. You, holding your camera, and me translating for your benefit, and revealing the local history lurking around every corner.
You would go home, to Dallas or Phoenix, feeling like you got your money’s worth. Like you connected with an authentic local person, and had a true friend, for a couple of hours.
Maybe you will want to hire me again, the next time you visit? I would like that. And I would smile and tell you how good that makes me feel.
Friends can tell each other how they feel, and really mean it.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.