The Friend Zone: Women’s Edition

Women are notorious for taking perfectly dateable men and transporting them to a cold, dark place known as The Friend Zone. You’ve done it. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it. And we probably have at least one  “friend” that we’re kicking ourselves in the ass for friend-zoning.

But let’s not assume that this practice is exclusive to women. Men, I’ve found, do the same thing, and women are just as oblivious to it.

When it comes to The Friend Zone, there’s really no question as to why a man has been put there: the woman doesn’t want to date you. She will never date you. She will ask you to fix stuff for her, and she will bitch about the asshole she’s currently dating, but she will never date you, and that is clear.

Not so with men. They have what I like to call the Back Up Barn and it is here that they herd sad, desperate females with the oft-unfulfilled promise of “I dunno, maybe, one day, possibly, I guess.”

Here’s how to tell if you’re just another sexy sheep.

 

1. Obviously if he’s being up front with you about his other romantic interests then you are not one of them. Most women are smart enough to figure that out, so they pack it up and move on. But if he’s being deliberately vague with you about other women, or what his feelings are with respect to you, guess what? HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY. You’re a Plan B, sweetheart. A silver medal. Give it up.

2. If all of his compliments are with respect to your looks, that’s pretty much all he’s interested in. Feel free to fuck him all ya want, but don’t expect it to go further than that. Men are not as shallow as we make them out to be – he’s not pursuing a relationship with a pretty girl just because she’s pretty; he’s actually interested in her, on some level, as a human being. The majority of people aren’t going to enter in to a commitment with someone they can’t stand or have nothing in common with – and that includes men. If you think every guy who’s ever turned you down falls under that category, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re drawn to that kind of man in the first place.

3. You know how you’ll talk to someone every day, and there’s flirtatious banter and cutesy exchanges and winky faces and hearts and shit? Ever had that just stop abruptly, and suddenly your conversations (which you always seem to initiate) become forced, and there is absolutely zero explanation for it? There is an explanation for it: he’s talking to a girl who isn’t you. And if this happens every few weeks or so, he’s talking to a lot of girls who aren’t you.

Yes, people get busy. Yes, shit happens unexpectedly. But people who actually give a shit about you are willing to explain that. If a guy can spend three hours texting back and forthwith you,  he can spend three seconds texting you to say he’s busy at work, or out of town for the week. If he doesn’t, you weren’t that important to begin with. Get over it and find someone who does think you’re worth three seconds of their time.

4. It takes a lot for a anyone, male or female, to muster up the courage to ask a potential partner point blank where we stand as far as dating is concerned. That’s a really vulnerable position to be in – and if the guy snaps on you, gets pissed off, clams up, is visibly offended, or basically reacts in any way that isn’t civilized open dialogue, you’re a back up bitch. You exist solely for “just in case”. Otherwise, why is he turning this in to such an issue? Why would he make you feel about thisbig for asking a fairly simple question?

Remember ladies and gentlemen:

-You are no one’s second choice.

-You are no one’s silver medal.

-You are no one’s back up plan.

 

If you think that’s all you deserve, go be in a relationship with yourself for a while. It’s probably for the best.

The Most Epic Parenting Win

Every once in a while, when my natural inclination toward cynicism and general snarkiness begins to dominate my overall view of the world, I must force myself to remember that not all people are vapid douchebags in dire need of a hearty shin-kick.

To do this, I would simply call to mind my friends, my family, and the things that I liked. But I witnessed a scene a few years ago, when my soon-to-be preschoolers were still chubby, drooling, adorable poop machines, a scene so incredibly wonderful that replaying it in my head is all I need to hit the reset button on my shitty perspective.

It was at a Target. As I entered, a child with Down’s Syndrome was standing in line with his parents as they loaded their bags in to the cart. To my left was a woman, very clearly upper class, pretty, well-dressed, perfect hair and makeup – the type one would be likely to label as a snob. She had her own child with her, a girl of perhaps three or four, an age where it is common to point and to ask blunt questions out of sheer curiosity rather than meanness.

The girl pointed at the boy with Down’s Syndrome and said, “Mommy, what’s the matter with that boy?”

The mother glanced over to where her daughter was pointing, and I full expected her to get embarrassed, or ignore the question, or scold the little girl.

Instead, she turned back around, smiled at her daughter, and placed a hand under her chin so that she was looking her mother directly in the eye. Then, in a voice that was both kind and firm, she gave her the only answer that should ever be given.

“Nothing, baby. Absolutely nothing.”

That woman, in that moment, was precisely the type of parent we should all strive to be. If we all spent less time explaining WHY people are different and HOW people are different, it is far more likely our children will see people as people, and that whatever it is that is different about them…will make no difference at all.

Bitches Be Crazy

Gentlemen, your attention please, because I am going to provide you with some rare insight into the female psyche.

I’m not saying women will become less of a mystery to you, or that you’ll walk away feeling like you’ve gained some sort of innate knowledge about the opposite sex. In fact, you will probably end up more confused. Or possibly gay. But whatever, I’m hilarious, and this shit is totes legit.

PART I.

SITUATION: Our pretty, skinny friend tells us she’s pregnant.

What we say: Oh my gosh, yay! Sooo happy for you!

What we think: lolzomg, she’s gonna get soooo fat.

SITUATION: A male friend that we’re interested in starts telling us about a chick he met and is in to.

What we say: Hey, good for you! She sounds awesome! I can’t wait to meet her!

What we think: She sounds like a cunt! I can’t wait to run her over with my car!

SITUATION: Our boss tells us someone complained that a shirt we wore showed too much cleavage.

What we say: Wow, I’m sorry. I’ll make sure not to wear it again.

What we think: I bet it was that flat-chested bitch that sits across from me. She wishes she had sweet-ass titties like these.

SITUATION: A friend cries on our shoulder because her boyfriend dumped her for the 18th time.

What we say: Oh, honey, it’s gonna be okay. He doesn’t deserve you.

What we think: You’re both fucking idiots and you deserve each other.

SITUATION: Between the ages of 25-35, a teenager bumps in to us and says, ‘Excuse me, ma’am’.

What we say: That’s okay.

What we think: Ma’am?! FUCK. YOU.

Part II.

What we say: Where do you want to go out for dinner, babe?

What we mean: Tell me where I want to go for dinner. Choose wisely, or I’ll be bringing it up once every couple of months for the next five years.

What we say: Of course you can go to that party. Go have some guy time!

What we mean: Although I’d prefer that you stay here and watch Grey’s Anatomy reruns with me and my cat, I have the inexplicable compulsion to prove that I am way cooler than all of your friends’ girlfriends, even though I hate most of your friends and their girlfriends.

What we say: Honey, you look tired. Why don’t you let me drive?

What we mean: I find your ability to operate a motor vehicle not only lacking but utterly terrifying, and I would prefer not to die tonight.

What we say: That shirt would look amazing on you. You should try it on.

What we mean: Your clothes are ugly and stupid. I am embarrassed to be seen in public with you.

What we say: Tonight, I’m going to cook you dinner, go in the other room while you watch the game, and let you do filthy things to me using a can of whipped cream and a ball gag.

What we mean: I used your credit card to buy $300 worth of shoes online and I’m hoping to soften the blow with food, sports, and sexy time.

Part III.

What we say: I’m gonna go have lunch with some friends. I’ll be back in a couple hours.

What we do: Substitute lunch for margaritas. Stumble in five hours later, completely sloshed.

What we say: I’ve gotta start dieting. These pants don’t fit me like they used to.

What we do: Successfully count calories for three weeks. Become so depressed/angry that we have only lost four pounds that we consume enough Oreos and gummi bears to send an entire diabetic football team in to a coma.

What we say: I hate my job, I hate my co-workers, and I hate my boss! Time to move on!

What we do: Continue working at our shitty job until something else happens to fall in our lap because otherwise we would have absolutely nothing to bitch about.

What we say: Man, fuck him. I’m too good for him, and he knows it.

What we do: Rent Sleepless in Seattle. Get halfway through the movie, a box of chocolates, and a second bottle of wine before sending a drunk text laced with awkward winky-faces and unecessary LOLs. Cry self to sleep.

What we say: Ugh, I look hideous today.

What we do: Spend an hour doing hair and makeup. Take numerous pictures in the bathroom mirror using cell phone and upload them to Facebook with the caption, “Just woke up lol, I look so gross!”