'I'm forever insulting friends behind their backs (Guardian)

'I'm forever insulting friends behind their backs and getting away with it'
Jon Ronson
Saturday March 31, 2007 The Guardian

An email arrives from my very nice but sometimes quite frenzied friend Michael. Michael can allow his thoughts to spiral out of control. I don't mind: who doesn't allow their thoughts to spiral? And, anyway, he is otherwise lovely. His email is about a work colleague he hates called Graham.
"If Graham keeps treating me like a twat, then I'm going to start acting like a twat and leave some dead fucking rat on his chair or something," Michael writes.

"Oh, Michael," I sigh to myself, "you can be a bit mad. You really should calm down."
I could say that to some friends, but not to Michael. If I told Michael I thought he could be a bit mad, he would feel hurt and he might even respond harshly to me! So instead I hurriedly knock off a supportive email back: "Michael," I write, "things can be fucking mad at work. He does sound like a complete idiot. I think in future just ignore him. Do you reckon?"

I press send. "I'm glad I took the time to write that email," I think. "It was the nice thing to do."
An hour passes. "I wonder why Michael hasn't emailed me back," I think. "That's strange. And actually a little rude." I furrow my brow. "Oh, I'm sure he'll email me back soon."

Another hour passes. "Michael still hasn't emailed back," I think. "Perhaps my email didn't get sent for some reason. I should double-check my sent folder." I do. And there it is. "So it was sent," I think. "Funny. Maybe I should quickly re-read what I wrote." I do. And that is when I see it. "Oh my God!" I think. "Oh shit!"

I'd written my email to Michael in a great hurry. It had taken me less than 10 seconds. As a result, I had inadvertently missed out a word - the word "things". My email consequently read: "Michael can be fucking mad at work. He does sound like a complete idiot. I think in future just ignore him. Do you reckon?"

I stare at the email. And the terrible irony hits me. I'm forever insulting friends behind their backs and getting away with it. I do it all the time! And nobody gets hurt! It's fine! And here I was being nice. Here I was taking time out of my day to be a good and supportive friend. And it's clear what Michael's thinking: he obviously assumes that I intended to forward his email and my apparently vicious response to someone else and I accidentally pressed the reply button instead.
I anxiously pace my office.
"What can I do to make things better?" I think. "Tell him the truth - that it was probably a Freudian slip and that he really ought to calm down? Use it as an opportunity to tell Michael some difficult but important truths about himself? No, of course not. That would be ridiculous. That would inevitably result in me being shouted at."

I furrow my brow. "Then what? Do nothing? Just ignore it and never contact Michael again for the rest of my life?" My eyes widen with relief. "Yes!" I think. "That's what I'll do!"
I make myself a cup of tea. "Never speaking to Michael again is the perfect solution," I think while sipping it.

Then I realise that, against my better judgment, I actually do need to confront this issue.
"I've got it!" I think. "I'll pretend I'm drunk! I'll write him another email full of misspellings and left-out words! That way he'll think I was drunk last time!"

"That's Grahm does seem twat," I write. "Seriously. Iggnore him. Had a bog lunch and am a bit drunk!!!! Ah well." I press send.
"Jon," I think. "You're a genius."