I’d like to take a little time out from talking about global current events and other political goings-on to make one little observation that’s slowly becoming a full-fledged domestic annoyance — It’s becoming painfully obvious that women can’t be friends with each other anymore.

Sure there are still some out there, and if you’re a woman and has a friend who has never used what you thought was a friendship in order to simply sell you something, embrace the relationship as a rare treat.

It’s a sad thing really. The days of women getting together for a cup of tea, chats about how the kids are doing in school and the innocent swapping of recipes are almost over. Sure, women still do those things, but now you can be pretty sure that if a woman wants to get together with another woman it’s with one purpose in mind: to sell her something she probably doesn’t need but will feel obligated to buy or risk losing the “friendship.”

Nowadays, the schools are even on board, and are turning kids away from being students, and toward being door-to-door salespeople. The parents usually pick up the ball and run with it, taking the catalog to their place of business and expecting everybody at work to turn their kid into “Salesperson of the year” at Johnsonville Elementary.

What a mixed message — We instruct our kids, “Don’t to talk to strangers”, but then financially desperate educators come around and add the caveat, “Unless you’re peddling cookie dough and magazines.”

There is respite, however. There is one group of women who have refused to cave into this “selling your soul for ten bucks” mentality, and they are lesbians.

I have yet to see a lesbian selling Avon, rubber stamps, photo albums, cookies, scarves, or anything else. They can have real friends. Lesbians can still get together for a cup of coffee, discuss how to achieve the ultimate Mullet haircut, catch an episode of “Ellen” in syndication, clean-and-jerk the lawn tractor, and spend the rest of the evening pleasuring each other with kitchen appliances and by the end of it all, still not made one single sales pitch. I respect that.

I’m sure it will happen eventually, and it will be all downhill for the lesbian population once it does. Mark my words lesbians, someday you’ll all be sitting around, thanking God that you’re the last group of women to still have true friends, and just then somebody will whip out a catalog, announce the new line of Martina Navratilova dildo’s, and ask you to RSVP to her “Vibin’ Up” party next week.

I personally like the opposite sales technique. The one which is practiced by the women whose sales experience until that day consisted of posting “Bingo Tonight” signs on telephone poles. They have the sales approach of a one-legged prostitute with too much facial hair and bad teeth, “You probably don’t want this, but…” These are the ladies who are essentially Willy Loman in a skirt and pumps, and who more often than not felt pressured into peddling stuff to their friends in an effort to recover some of the losses incurred after buying all the junk their friends sold them.

It must be incredibly frustrating to be a woman in this day and age. If another woman wants to be your friend, it’s because she only wants to sell you something, and if a man wants to be your friend, he wants sex. If I were a woman, I’d end up a hopeless recluse — spending my days and nights out of human contact, save for my trusted, loyal dog, who would be playfully running around the living room, jumping on my lap, and licking my face as I scratch him behind the ears. He’d be my only true friend.

Then he’d whip out an Amway catalog.

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