The Friend Shop

It's hard to make friends when you rarely go out, and it's hard to go out when you're afraid to be seen. Like-minded people tend to group together but what if you're alone on an island, surrounded by hostile seas?

Enter The Friend Shop.

The Friend Shop doesn't exist. Not really. It shouldn't have to, but for now, let's say it does. This is a one-time special offer, inspired by the stars to create what has never been nor will probably ever be.

* * *

A little bell tinkled, announcing the presence of another awestruck customer. They're always that way at first.

"But ... that's ... impossible," a tall, effeminate man stammered as he entered the shop.

"Welcome to The Friend Shop," smiled the clerk, the only other person in the shop.

The only feature to be seen was a large wooden counter that concealed all but the head and shoulders of the short clerk. There were no windows, and no light fixtures, yet the shop was well-lit. The walls themselves seemed to glow with a warm, yellow-white light.

The well-polished hardwood floor creaked as the customer slowly approached the counter, much to the amusement of the clerk who'd seen the same reaction countless times.

Before the tall man could reach the counter, the bell tinkled again as the door slowly swung shut. Startled, he quickly turned around to stare at the closed door. At least it still existed, he thought. He had a way to escape if necessary.

"I was in my apartment," the tall man said mostly to himself as he turned back towards the clerk. "A door appeared in the wall. I know you're not supposed to open strange doors. Something bad always happens."

"Go on," the clerk encouraged. "It's best to talk it out ya know."

The customer ignored him, or didn't hear. The shock still gripped him by the stomach, twisting it into knots, and a sudden urge to sit or fall down added a new sense of urgency to the situation.

The clerk noticed the man had started to tremble and sway. That was yet another common reaction for first-time customers.

"I keep telling management we need a couch and some chairs but they never listen. Here. Try this." The short clerk dragged a plain wooden chair out from behind the counter and offered it to the troubled man.

"Thanks," the customer said with a faint smile. He vowed to remain civil and civilized throughout this ordeal. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but would you happen to have any water?"

"Sure," smiled the clerk as he disappeared behind the counter. "Just a minute."

Though he couldn't see the clerk, the man could hear him softly humming to himself as he filled two glasses. The sound of the pouring water seemed to go on for an unusually long period of time but that was okay. It was a relaxing sound.

Sitting down also helped. So did breathing, in through the nose and out through mouth. Now all he needed was the water. The inside of his mouth felt like cotton, or maybe dust. Make that dusty cotton. He was parched.

After what seemed like several minutes, the clerk returned with two glasses of water. He handed one to the seated man and held the other one up to his mouth to take a sip.

"Oh yeah, that's good water. There's nothing like alpine springs."

The customer cautiously took a sip and agreed with a nod. The cool water tasted uncommonly good.

"Now then, back to business. Do you remember what you were thinking about just before you arrived?"

The man shook his head, trying to remember. It took some prodding but he got it without too much trouble.

"I was wishing I had more friends, close friends. I'm tired of being lonely."

"That'd do it," said the clerk. "That'd get ya here."

"I only have two really good friends. One lives about 25 miles away. We talk every week or two but we don't get together often enough. Then there's my girlfriend. She lives eight time zones away, in England. She and I are only able to get together four times a year."

"Oh. That's rough," sympathized the clerk. "I wish I could help you."

"But ... didn't you say this was The Friend Shop?"

"That I did. We're fresh out though, and I don't expect another shipment in any time soon."

"Shipment? Don't you have a list of contacts or something?"

"This place doesn't work like that. It's not normal ya know."

"Right," sighed the customer, as he bowed his head and softly wept. To come so far, impossibly far, only to fail was too much for him.

"There there," soothed the clerk. "Don't cry. There are zillions of people in the world. Just pick someone and talk to them."

The man looked up at the clerk and shook his head. "Real life doesn't work like that."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't get out enough," replied the man. Then he laughed at the irony. "You don't get out enough in the real world," he tried again, and laughed some more. He just kept digging himself a deeper hole.

"I mean that not everyone gets along."

"Nonsense," said the clerk.

"No, really. You have to have something in common. You have to have some of the same interests and philosophies, otherwise you'll have nothing to talk about."

"Well," mused the clerk. "Everyone must have something in common."

"Sure. We're all human and we all suffer to some degree. I don't think that's the basis for a good friendship though. We need more than that, much more."

"Yeah, that could explain a lot," said the clerk.

"What do you mean?

"I don't have any friends. I only have this job and the customers I meet."

"Oh. Oh my," the man gasped. "I'm so sorry. Here I've been moaning when it sounds like you're worse off than I am."

"It's okay, really."

"No, it's not. I feel terrible," wailed the man.

"Hey. Don't cry again. This is my life. I haven't known anything different so I don't know what I'm missing."

The distressed man couldn't help himself. Feelings of guilt and shame added to his loneliness, causing him to bawl his eyes out.

"Look," said the clerk. "Why don't we be friends? Would that be okay?"

The man stopped crying at that. It sounded like a nice sentiment but how could it work? They lived in two different worlds after all.

The man finally truly looked up at the clerk then. He saw a short, broad young man with short black hair and a very hard looking, masculine face, but at least there was one thing in the clerk's favor. Though the clerk didn't look it, he was definitely more sensitive than he looked. Their conversation proved that.

"I don't know," said the man. "I'm a bit different."

"What do you mean?"

The man wasn't sure he could go on. It was hard to confess his inner most desire, the one that tortured him so, the one he obsessed with practically every day of his adult life.

The clerk sensed the man's anguish and gently pressed on. He had a good idea what was bothering him.

"Does it have something to do with the way you're dressed?"

The man nodded but didn't say anything.

"Does it have something to do with how emotional you are?"

Again, the man quietly nodded.

"So I'd guess you have issues with your gender then."

The man nodded and quickly bowed his head. He couldn't take seeing yet another disgusted look. It's too bad he couldn't see the clerk smiling.

"Well then, it looks like we have something in common after all."

The man snapped his head back, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Didn't anyone tell you to never judge a book by its cover?"

* * *

So began a beautiful friendship, one that's similar to real friendships to be sure, if you just keep looking. Sometimes you find friendship in the most unlikely of places and at the most unlikely of times.

The End