My Bunbury

I like the idea of a Bunbury. An imaginary friend I can use as an excuse to get me out of all sorts of situations.

I swear this is a real thing. If you don’t believe me, re-read The Importance of Being Earnest. If Algernon (the Oscar Wilde one, not the mouse in Flowers For Algernon or the movie Charly) can have a Bunbury, so can I.

My Bunbury is going to be quite needy. Somewhere between Norman’s mother in Psycho and Sarah’s  brother in Love, Actually. And my Bunbury will be an elderly woman. No one will ever question me having to leave a boring party or be late to a useless meeting if I’m rushing off to see to the emergent needs of sweet old Mrs. Bunbury.

Or maybe she’ll be an eighty-something spinster who’s a bit sweet on me and I’m carrying on a harmless flirtation for the sake of brightening up her declining years.

She could be a neighbor – no, scratch that – too many people have met my neighbors and besides, I may have to use the Bunbury dodge on one or more of my real neighbors.  She’ll have to reside vaguely far enough away to take some time to visit but close enough to present a believable excuse for not mowing the lawn while still allowing time for kayaking.

Say, you don’t suppose my wife reads these things, do you?

Or my boss.  After all, kindly ol’ Ms. Bunbury may require my calming presence the next time I’m due for ‘diversity’ training.  I wonder if Bunburys work for getting out of dentist’s appointments?

The list of noisome activities I can shirk thanks to Erma’s needs – did I mention Ms. Bunbury has a first name? – is essentially endless:

·         Shopping for clothing

·         Shopping for almost anything else

·         Meetings

·         Weddings of distant cousins

·         Funerals (Don’t ever allow yourself to become known as the family eulogist – trust me on this!)

·         Bathing dogs

·         Attending almost any social event that’s farther away than across the street

·         Loads of et ceteras

I’m really warming up to this whole idea.

You can have a Bunbury, too. Just change the name. Erma’s already taken.