They call it the “friend zone” for a reason. Because the boys you put there… should stay there.
Remember how in Kindergarten we used to size each other up by who colored inside the lines the best? I pride myself on being able to stay inside the lines that are drawn, especially when they’re drawn by me, but on this particular occasion, I got a little sloppy, and learned the hard way that some lines are better left uncrossed.
I had this great guy friend that I had known since freshman year. We would grab dinner every few weeks, catch up on classes and personal life drama, and we always had a good time. From my end, it was always platonic – he was just someone that I felt comfortable talking to, someone who listened, and someone who always had interesting things going on his life to share. He was just a great guy, though not the right kind of great for me, sadly.
It’s something that I’ve found incredibly frustrating as a single girl. I know so many great guys – you’d think I’d have no trouble dating any one of them, and in theory, you would be right. But something very important is always missing with these guys: sexual attraction. If it’s not there, it’s not there, and that’s all there is to it.
However, drunk me (seeing a pattern here?) apparently thinks it knows something sober me does not know. So one night while out on the town, I bump into Freshman Friend. Me, being recently single, intoxicated and on the prowl, became incredibly overt, grabbed his hand, and promptly led us right out of the pizza place. It took a while for my brain to catch up, (and by a while, I mean, my brain stayed in the pizza place until mid-hook up at his apartment), where I then realized that I had gotten myself into quite the predicament. Making out in a stairwell, totally hot. Sleeping with one of my good guy friends? So not okay. A drunken make out is one kind of harmless. Seeing each other naked is recipe for the end of any semblance of friendship normalcy.
So after a less than cinematic Nicholas Sparks sex scene, I promptly scooped up my panties, kissed him goodbye, and got my ass the hell out of there.
Sometimes curiosity is better left alone. Things were a little weird for a while, despite my best efforts to make them be normal, and while Freshman Friend remained a friend, there’s always that awkward glance shared between the two of us when we see each other again, the one that always accuses me of screwing everything up.
So my fine female friends, careful who you screw, and for the love of all things boning and beautiful, if you’re goning to bang a Friendzone Dweller, make sure you’re not just doing it because it’s outside the lines, and you’re feeling dangerous.
Til the next adventure,
Suz
photo source: http://shut-up-im-talking.s3.amazonaws.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/e0517.jpg