I had a conversation last night with someone I’ve met a few times before, and she kept saying “I really want us to be friends,” and all I could think of is “God, why?”
This is partially a testament to what a bleak piece of shit I am as a human, but I sincerely do not understand the appeal of having me as a new friend.
As I mentioned, I’ve met this person numerous times in the past. We don’t have each others’ phone numbers. If after meeting someone you think “I want to be friends with this person” you probably have some common interests, you exchange phone numbers or become Facebook friends or whatever, and when you’re engaging in said common interest, you contact that person to hang out. That’s pretty much 90% of what being someone’s friend is (5% holding hair while puking, 3% posting bail, 2% weddings and birthdays). I don’t really have any common interests with this person. She’s a nice girl, and she’s attractive but we’ve both got along pretty okay without being friends to this point, so I’m not sure what the appeal is. Every time we’ve hung out, is when we’re drinking heavily, i.e. when I’m acting like a pile of human garbage. Again, not exactly my most appealing side even when I’m struggling to be on my best behavior.
I’ll address it here because I know you’re thinking it: she doesn’t want to sleep with me. From everything I can tell this is/was a request for a strictly platonic relationship. Because as much as I call myself a no-good fuckstick, I’m a quasi-decent lay if the Yelp reviews are to be trusted. So I’d at least get the appeal of that. But no.
What exactly can a 28-year-old guy with a lot of bad habits really offer you when you’re old enough to buy booze and cigarettes for yourself? In the abstract I’m literally of no use to you or anyone else who doesn’t require a friend with a working knowledge of homebrewing and/or a quasi-decent lay.
So if that person ends up reading this: just take a knee. There’s no use throwing a Hail Mary when you’re down by this much. And I’m probably not going to meet you halfway either; I don’t have the effort or inclination to explain to another person that I have shitty impulse control, drink too much, and if these blog posts were a cry for help, I’d be shouting much louder so stop looking too deeply into my shit.
Give up on being my friend, because this shitty behavior – it’s probably gonna get worse before it gets better.
(That would be a horribly, perfectly glib way to end this post but there’s one other thing I want to address: I do like making new friends. Shit, I met someone online invited them over and spent the next few hours drinking beer and shooting the shit. It was awesome. But I’m not willing – and possibly not able – to change my behavior at the moment. 2014 has been a shit year. I lost my girl. I lost my first dog. My best friend is going through some shit that I have to just sit and watch because I can’t do fuck-all to help him. And all the minor shit that makes getting out of bed in the morning seem like a shit idea. So I’m not saying not to try and be friends with me if that’s a dumb idea rolling around in your head; just know what you’re getting into. All the Yelp reviews say I’m a pretty decent friend, but the bathrooms need to be cleaned more often.)