The Friend Speech.
Need I say more?
Well, it wouldn't be much of a rant if I didn't say more, so I guess I will.
Nothing in the annals of manhood is as humiliating, as dejecting, as downright cruel as the words "Let's just be friends."
Friends, huh? Such an unassuming word.
When used properly.
In this evil context, it's come to mean "Back off, loser, I don't ever want to see you again." It's a kiss off, a brush off, a blow off. Whatever romantic ideas you had about her are, in a word, off. And you know what, ladies? It didn't take us much longer than puberty to figure it out.
Then, the member of the erstwhile coven looks at you in disbelief when you say no. As if I looked at you across a crowded room and said to myself: "Oh yeah, baby, I want to be your friend." And, silly me, I always take my friends out, buy them flowers, and try to kiss them in the car when I drop them off.
It's like losing at "Wheel of Fortune," on NATIONAL TV, and then, as one of your going-away prizes, they give you...
THE HOME VERSION OF WHEEL OF FORTUNE!
As if you'd EVER want anyone in your house to even MENTION that game after you went on TV and lost to some housewife from Des Moines on this puzzle:
D _ _
(thing that a cat hates)
Ladies, please. You've already dumped us, made us feel like crap, and all that not-so-good stuff. Don't insult us by asking us to hang out with you and listen to stories about guys you're dating who are apparently better than us. By the time you even get to the word "friend," we're zoned out trying to figure out how to tell our friends that WE dumped YOU, or counting up all the money we wasted on you.
And then there's the dim-witted cousin of "Let's be friends," the even more irritating "You're a nice guy, but..."
NOTHING good ever comes after the word "but." Run. Run away. Stay away from evil friend woman. If I'm so nice, what could possibly be so bad that it counters the effects of my niceness?
You know what? I don't want to know. None of us want to know. However, women choose to keep talking after the word "but." And this is basically the part where she does the emotional and egotistical equivalent of de-pantsing you in the middle of gym class on a cold day.
And unlike the fairer sex, we don't cry. We don't call our friends. We get mad. VERY mad. At the girl, at her Mom, at everyone without a penis. Then you know what happens? A nice girl comes along. A real sweetie. Unfortunately, she gets to meet you right after that last woman told you how "nice" you were. So, you treat her like crap. And she stops trusting guys. She tells a friend. You find another woman who tells you you're a nice friend. Then another sweetie. The cycle repeats. They're pissed. We're pissed. Then both sexes get to sit around and complain about how the other sucks. And that's the hellish world of singles I live in. Sound familiar? Yeah, because you're probably one of the friends I bitch with.
Point being, if you're friends, you don't have to label it. It just happens. So stop the speech. You're not fooling anyone. Really. Oh yeah, and please don't tell me I'm nice.
And that's my rant.
