Men and women can be friends, but not like this
I never signed up to be female validation on demand.
Lately, my neighbor, who is usually pretty chill, has been asking me out to random events on a moment’s notice. Am I coming to the apartment mixer? Am I free in an hour for drinks? Do I want to go to this show tomorrow, this event in three hours, out for dinner right now?
I couldn’t make sense of what was happening until I found myself invited to a Nine Inch Nails concert with him and two of his (married) friends, purely because he “happened to” have an extra ticket. Then it dawned on me: my homie most likely struck out with yet another woman and is now calling me up from the bench to make the most of some non-refundable dates.
I understand the struggle of a failed “talking stage,” and I feel for him. But I don’t like Nine Inch Nails.
And I never asked to be a benchwarmer.
Don’t get it twisted; there are no mixed signals here. I am not, nor have I ever been, romantically interested in this guy. I’m a neighbor, bordering on a friend. Nothing more.
I’m also relatively new to this city and discovering new things every day, so I wasn’t available for the mixer, the show, the drinks, the dinner, the concert, for good reason. In my…
