| Platonically
incorrect |
|
Much to the chagrin of my long-suffering parents, I spent my most fertile and foolish years completely surrounded by boys. My best friends through junior high, high school and college were male, and I cringe to think of the number of hours my parents must have spent awake and worried I was being joyfully impregnated by any number of them. At the time, of course, I was convinced that they wanted what I did: simple platonic friendship, no expectations of hanky panky. I shied away from girls because I lack that instinctual filter between my brain and mouth that would render me delicate, polite, or sensitive to anyone’s feelings but my own. It’s a bit difficult to explain, but basically any kindness I exhibit to others takes a conscious effort on my part. Most things that I say are comically rude, and girls have always tended to have less patience for my often oppressive bluntness, while men shrug off anything obnoxious I say, in deference to the value of a good laugh. My father tried to reason with me when I was 16. “You should have more girlfriends. People say ‘boys only want one thing’ because it’s true,” he began. “Dad I’m not a real girl, I don’t factor into that.” “All of your guy ‘friends’ think so, trust me.” “No they
don’t, I’m barely a girl to them. They’re just
nice, they’re not trying to trick me into anything, accept
it.” Now, years after college and well into the professional phase of my life, I have noticed an entirely new dynamic between the sexes which seems to indicate to me that Grownups have no time or room for purely platonic friendships. I recently went to a party, for example, with a friend of a friend with whom I have not spent much time with but always had a good rapport. We drove together out of convenience, nothing date-like about it, stayed out all night, hugged goodbye at an indecent hour, and I never heard from him again. I called my friend Emily to ask what happened to him. “He could tell you’re not interested.” “In what? I mean clearly I’m not interested in smooching him, but we have fun together.” “I guess he wants more but he could tell that night you’re not into him.” “I’m not like THAT but we could be buddies, couldn’t we? I had a good time and everything...” “No boy in his late 20s is looking for a new female buddy. He HAS buddies. It’s not like he needs your company.” Since that night I have noticed a pattern in new guys I meet. After a time period in which we exchange pleasantries and decide we might want to have an actual conversation, he will ask me to join him in some distinctly harmless social exercise. A quick bite, a drink after work, all things that don’t exhibit the date flag. Never dinner, never anything that could be construed as more than simply a friendly gesture, an appreciation of my personality. After the initial screening, at which point I am usually bored beyond politeness, only the very brave will sense that I might be willing to round the bases with them, and boldly suggest an actual date. For the most part though, once they sense my lack of sexual interest I never hear from them again. It doesn’t matter if we’ve laughed until our sides ache, or we have a quirky hobby in common, or are planning on seeing the same movie that night. If I’m not crossing and uncrossing my legs or twirling my hair and giggling or periodically touching his arm or knee, I am without social value. It’s a great deal less confusing simply to construct my new social circle out of women. Granted, I now spend more time awkwardly apologizing and mustering my sympathy, and it has been a quick education in thinking before I speak, so the current state of affairs is probably making me a much better person. However, I miss a good solid circle of completely nonjudgmental, thick-skinned guys, and am coming to understand there are now different criteria for such friendships. The guys that I do manage to see socially tend to have girlfriends, so any time we spend together is aimless and enjoyable. Another set of male friends are ones where an attraction initially existed, was probably killed by my minuscule attention span, and they would have dropped off the face of the earth but for the fact that they are forced to interact with me at work or with mutual friends. While I am slightly bewildered by this new social order, I do understand why it has come about. Before I started working, my substantial downtime had to be filled somehow, and talking to my friends was how I spent much of my day. People who work long hours, however, do not have the time or energy to spend on getting to know strangers who aren’t going to sleep with them. It is as simple and as understandable as that.A2P Email girlonlove@annarborpaper.com |
|
 |
COLUMNS |
BOOKS Preview the work of the four writers on the First Fiction tour by Laura J. Williams MUSIC MUSIC
-
Reviews
|
PLUS: CHOICE
A2P's selected events of the month |
