Billy Crystal’s famous line from When Harry Met Sally continues to be debated by psychologists and studiers of social behavior. “Men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.” Many women claim that their Guy Friend is nothing more than a big brother figure or someone to talk to when their girlfriends run out of advice. But could a mating instinct, developed over hundreds of thousands of years of evolution be suppressed? Is a platonic cross sex friendship nothing more than a subconscious lustful quest for something more? A former Guy Friend tells his story.
She tells you it’s nothing. That he’s just a friend from work who she hangs out with, but we know. We know his intentions, we know the score. We’re fucking men and we’ve all been the guy friend at one point in time. So when she says “Don’t worry baby, it’s not like that, he’s not interested in me I can tell” all I can think of is ‘Cock the hammer, time for action!!!’
There are a number of variations of the Guy Friend and not all of them pose a threat. You just have to be aware of the category and have a close relationship with that feeling deep inside the abyss of your stomach.
There’s the Friend from High School. Perhaps they dated for a month in senior year, broke up and decided to stay friends. They’ve known each other for years. She knows his current girlfriend, parents etc. Chances are this guy lives far away and they only meet up for coffee during the holidays, where she’s visually and mentally reminded of why it never worked out.
The Stoner. This guy makes her feel safe. They hang out once in a while, which involves her telling him that he’s gotta grow up, get a job and take a shower. He gives her a sense of superiority and stimulates her maternal instincts. This guy is good to have around because he‘ll always give her weed to take home. Which she’ll end up smoking with you anyway 😉
The Daddy. My personal favorite: He’s the friend from Uni. “Oh my God he was the craziest guy ever” is how each story about him begins. He was part of the “clique,” they did labs and projects together, even kissed once when wasted, but never hooked up. Now he’s got a wife and kids, works at a corporation and after the kids are asleep; he uploads his amateur art photography on Facebook or shitty electronica composed on the latest version of Qbase, he bought on the credit card that he hides from his wife. Pot-belly, receding hair, Hawaiian shirts, station wagon. This dude is also harmless.
The Gay Friend. Every girl needs one, and every guy wishes that all her male friends were him. They go shopping together and give each other relationship advice. She has someone to watch ‘Eat, Drink, Pray” with, so you don’t have to. It’s also a bonus if he thinks you’re hot because in a way it raises your market value in her eyes. The down side is that he sometimes shows up in the middle of the night, unexpected, crying that his boyfriend is “Such an Asshole!” You can’t really protest because that would make you an insensitive homophobe, right?
Nuff’ with the jokes. The guy to watch out for is a fucking stealth. Like a bad stench he’s always there. This dude is not a hunter like real men; he’s a hyena, a scavenger. He attaches himself to a vulnerable girl and plays the “Puppy Dogs and Ice Cream” card. He’s almost always from her work. He adjusts his routine to hers, making it look accidental. He gives her a sense of acceptance in the new environment, tells her about the city, and shows her around. He’s the brotherly soul in an unknown place.
I met a girl on a train a few years back. We sat next to each other; she was petite, short brown hair, pretty mouth, nice hands. Since it was going to be a 4 hr train ride, I initiated a conversation. She turned out to be a motor mouth so the commute went by quickly. Her name was Anne, she had recently been hired by an embassy in Warsaw and was on her way to go apartment hunting. I suggested some neighborhoods she might want to check out. As we arrived at Warsaw Central, I gave her my number and told her to give me a call if she ever needed any help. A month went by, I had forgotten about the situation when I got a call from her. She asked if I remembered her and if I wanted to meet for coffee. We met up in the Old Town and went to a cafe. I asked how her transition to Warsaw went, if she was feeling the city and so on. After coffee we ended up at my flat drinking wine in the kitchen. During her second glass of wine she began confessing how lonely she was, how stressful and boring this job was and that the city was so big and her apartment sucked. Then she started complaining about her boyfriend. Until then I didn’t know she even had one. He worked in Germany and visited once a month. She rested her head on my shoulder asking me for comfort and advice. Yes dear Reader, I ended up fucking the loneliness out of her for a week straight! I lay naked on her bed waiting as she turned the Skype off on her laptop so David wouldn’t interrupt me as I fucked his girlfriend. Once when he came to visit her, he went off to his parent’s house for a night. She met up with me that evening and as we entered her apartment, she quickly called his mobile too. The conversation went something like this:
“Hey Baby. Are you at your parent’s? How’s your mom? Really? That’s so sweet! Tell her I say hello. Okay, I love you.. Ya, just got home from coffee with a friend. See you tomorrow. Bye”.
Karma has a way with us. It can be the greatest thing ever, but at the same time, it can fuck our shit up immensely. I’m not sure what David did to deserve this, if what happened to him will happen to me, or you. But I’m not excluding the idea. People are only people; loneliness is a sad, difficult period and is no stranger to disloyalty. I broke the affair off with Anna because I felt like shit fucking another man’s girl. Although it was an awesome power trip the first few times around, it made me feel like a dirty hyena in the end.
4 months later I saw them at a shopping center. They were walking hand in hand, laughing, and looking very much in love. He was carrying a grocery bag; she was carrying a bottle of wine. I walked right passed them. I was literally one meter away. For a split second Anne looked at me. But she was so absorbed in whatever they were laughing about that she didn’t recognize me. It was for the best. Beware of the guy friend.
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