“Hey, I really like you, but I’m at a point in my life…(insert appropriate bullshit here)…let’s just be friends, and see how that turns out.” Translation- “we’re just about finished here, unless I can talk you into paying for my meals and taking me out for a little longer.”

I am almost always cynical, but only occaisionally bitter in the public eye (such as it is). Lately, say the past ten years or so, this has been bothering me, and I’m sure at least a few can identify with me here.

The death sentence. She utters the words “let’s just be friends.”

I’m not THAT friendly. In fact, the people I hang out with can tell you that I make a very crappy friend. I’ll drink your last beer. I’ll change the wallpaper on your computer screen to a close up of hardcore gay porn right before your parents come over. I’ll leave a turd in your toilet when I leave and tell your family that you are gay. These girls don’t want me as a friend.

Lately, I have been dating pretty regularly, and have even gone out with a few women I liked. We go do stuff, I act like myself (having learned some time ago that my true personality can be something of a shock if delivered undiluted and unexpected, so I owe it to them to be 100% me), and I basically play it like years of dating has taught me to play it. The last few girls I have been out with have at some point (invariably after I have spent both time AND money on them) said “Hey, I just want to make sure I’m not misleading you- I am only looking for a friend out of this whole dating thing.”

Son of a…

The first time this happened to me, my response can only be attributed to a bout of temporary insanity. I actually said “Alrighty, I’ll give it a try and see how it pans out” anyone who knows me is dumbfounded when they hear that I even considered that. In my delerium, I forgot the cardinal rule-

Nice guys are nature’s way of making girls feel good about themselves between relationships with assholes.

The same thing happened a few weeks later with another young lady in whom I had become interested. She smelled really good. She said, almost verbatim, the same “friends” line- but this time I was prepared. “well, I appreciate your being candid about it, but my friend roster is chock full,” I said. “however, if one of my friends dies and a position comes available, I’ll keep your number on file.”

This response was beautiful for two reasons:

1) She didn’t see the death reference coming

2) It was just patronizing enough to make her question her own “logic”.

Do they really think I want friends so badly that I will take them to dinner, pay for everything, cart them around town and do things that I don’t really want to do? Sorry, sugarbritches, but all that means to me is one more fucking birthday present to buy, so if you want a friend, get a dog and leave me the hell out of it.

…and the bitterness is gone. Thanks for reading. You are a better human being for having done so.

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