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There’s an overarching school of thought, at least among my male contemporaries, that men and women can’t be friends. That if a guy is friends with a girl, it’s because he wants to have sex with her. I find this simply untrue. There are plenty of women in my life whom I have zero interest in inserting my penis in to. I have long-term female friends whom I consider something of sisters (of which I have zero blood sisters which may explain my need for female friendship, but I digress). I find some of them attractive, objectively. And yet, I do not have sexual thoughts about them. I’m sure I did at one point, in the days of our youth, but now that thought legit gives me the heebie-jeebies.
And so with that in mind, I can see why a female friend would have reservations about getting romantically involved with a male friend. But it’s not like I’ve known Mia for years. We didn’t go to summer camp together. We did not meet in Hebrew school. We met six months ago; on the grand spectrum of friendships, I’d say we don’t really know each other all that well.
I can see another argument for keeping me as a male friend, though. And you’re all acutely aware of it. It’s the attention. Having someone in your back pocket that at the drop of a hat will come grab you from the airport or take you to the hospital or come and fix the leaky drain in your apartment because that’s a completely reasonable thing to ask of me, the guy who grew up spoiled in the ‘burbs, and not the super of the building. The guy who cheers you up whenever you’re feeling unlovable. A huge fucking beta. I could very easily slip into this person.
So I should stop everything. Just put down the phone and check in on Mia in, say, a month or so. Legit just be a friend. Hang out once a month for old time’s sake but leave it at that. Because if I let myself stay on her hook too long, it’ll begin to disintegrate my Y chromosome.
But I’ve also watched too many rom-coms in my life to know that women say they want to “marry their best friend.” I’ve met too many old timers who say to always marry the ones that you have fun with, that keep you laughing, because when you’re old and saggy, that’s really all you’ve got.
For me, Mia is the rare combination of someone who I never get sick of when we hang out, and someone who I still find outrageously attractive. At this point, I’m not a close enough friend with her to think it’s weird to want to sleep with. And in ten years when we’re both single and use each other as marriage backups a la Phoebe Buffay? I can’t guarantee I’ll still be in that position because at that point I might think of her too much like a sister.
And that’s why Boston Max, maybe the biggest idiot in a Blue State, was just going to go for it.
I woke up covered in blood. Blood everywhere. I looked down to find my knee looking like it had just lost a battle with a hack saw. And my sheets? The linens in Fallujah were probably cleaner. Now, everyone knows I think sheets are the biggest scam out there, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t spend way too much on my bougie ass thread count. So you could say the morning was off to a rough start.
What made it even rougher? I had no idea what I did from roughly nine o’clock the previous night, to now. But, I knew Mia was involved.
I’m a guy that can handle my liquor on most days. I’m built like a DIII fullback, and most of the time I’ve got a hollow leg. Not to sound like a complete douche bag. But… BUT… I’ve got a bad habit sometimes of not eating enough before a night of drinking, and that generally is when shit falls off the rails. Welp, we rushed off the farm without breakfast, spent the whole afternoon on a bus, and then when I got home I basically napped until around dinner time. In a highly rare moment of not being hungry, I forgot to eat all day. Not one calorie. That’s on me. I’ll put my hand up to the referee and take the foul. I started crushing some rosé, and a bottle in, I switched to beers. A lot of them. My last memory was being in line for a bar.
And then I woke up to the first scene of Saving Private Ryan all over my bed. It was clear to me that in some way or another, your boy had taken a digger onto the pavement. But how? And, where did I leave things with Mia?
I immediately checked Snapchat for clues. I had one Snap, from 3 a.m., sitting in a friend’s apartment, with Lyla, and a pic of my knee looking like it had just taken mortar shell shrapnel, with a caption saying: “I didn’t deserve this.” Interesting.
I immediately went to Lyla’s Snapchat.
Oh, sidebar – I should have mentioned this a while ago, but it slipped my mind and was reminded to tell you freaks when the peanut gallery started chirping me to bang Lyla: remember the brunette from Israel in Part I? Yeah, that’s Lyla, and she’s probably a closer friend of mine than Mia. Okay, now you’re all informed.
Lyla had a Snap of me with blood pouring from my leg. I was standing on the curb and screaming in the general direction of a bar. There was another snap of me incoherently ranting about the savages who threw me from the bar like I was Jazz and they were Uncle Phil. Ah, I see what happened now. I’ll admit, 26 is probably on the older side of being acceptable to be thrown outta the bar, but it’s only the second time in my career (technically third but the first two came on the same night from the same bar, long story), so I’ll charge this one to a younger, more well-behaved version of myself.
Panic began to set in. What the fuck did I do at that bar to warrant a Lou Pinella ejection and, more importantly, what the fuck was my behavior like around Mia?
With my hands over my eyes, barely peeking through like I was watching a horror flick, I opened my texts.
Boston Max – Sunday, May 28, 9:17 p.m.: Me and my buddy are thinly of going somewhere in the LES. What’re your plan
Mia – 9:18 p.m.: Noice we’re going to kind regards we think
Boston Max – 9:19 p.m.: Where’s that!
Mia – 9:31 p.m.: Les!!
Boston Max – 9:44 p.m.: We should meet up *basic bitch emoji*
Mia – 9:48 p.m.: YEA BAE
Boston Max – 9:50 p.m.: Cool let me know when you’re there we’ll swing by
Mia – 9:50 p.m.: YAY
Okay, I sort of remembered texting this while I was done crushing the bottle of rosé and digging into a rack of nearly frozen Coronas. I’d give myself a pat on the back for not sounding too incoherent. I needed more clues. Not so much clues about how or why I got kicked out the club, but more like, where did I leave things off with Mia, you feel?
Mia – 11:15 p.m.: We’re at no fun
Mia – 11:16 p.m.: It’s not great
Mia – 11:16 p.m.: Bht you can come
Mia – 11:16 p.m.: Haha
Boston Max – 11:19 p.m.: Hhhmmmm
Boston Max – 11:19 p.m.: I think we could probably make that happen
Mia – 11:30 p.m.: Weee
And that was it. No more clues. No more memories. Nothing. I had zero idea what happened at the bar. I spent the day in full on Scaries mode. The Monday of Memorial Day Weekend is a top Scaries day of the year as it is, but throw in the fact that I had no idea if I bungled my night? Recipe for disaster. I contemplated going up to my roof and drowning myself in the pool (#rooftoppoolhumblebrag), but thought that suicide before Tom Brady retired was a dumb life choice.
I ended up going to see Baywatch with Moxon because the only thing that could reasonably distract me from myself was staring at Efron for two hours. Right before the movie started, I shot Mia a text and completely shut off my phone.
Boston Max – Monday, May 29, 6:55 p.m.: Had fun last night, at least I think so; can’t reallyyy remember…Hope you had a nice end to your wild MDW
When I got out of the movie (criminal that it only has a 19% on Rotten Tomatoes), Mia has texted me back.
Mia – 9:13 p.m.: OH I DID!
Mia – 9:13 p.m.: Mass dancing
Mia – 9:13 p.m.: Today I didn’t leave my apt
Then a little back and forth about our days, MDW Scaries, and what we were both binging on Netflix. Then I mentioned I hadn’t eaten in two days and could use some inspiration. I asked what she ate, and then she just hit me over the head with a bombshell.
Mia – 10:47 p.m.: PASTA
Yup. That’s right. Boston’s Boy had just got one-worded. I was crushed. I put my phone away with Johnny Cash’s cover of “Hurt” playing through my head as I reached for the bottle of bleach on my desk. One worded? I realized then that I must have been an idiot the night before. Said something or done something. Or maybe Mia got some attention from other boys at the bar and realized that she didn’t need me to be the emotional tampon. The beta male. The best friend.
And there I was, realizing that this whole time I was being a massive idiot. Thinking so brazenly that somehow, I was going to pull myself out of the depths of The Friend Zone and somehow join the ranks of the 1980 USA Olympic hockey team and the 2004 Boston Red Sox. What an IDIOT. What a LOSER! You have no idea what an idiot is. For I am Boston Max, Lord of the Idiots.
I decided that I was done texting Mia. If she texted me, fine. If she wanted to hang out, fine. Ball was in her court. Plus, it was the beginning of summer, and there were so many more girls with whom I would attempt to tremulously navigate through The Friend Zone with.
And then Mia went to Europe. .
Respond
Boston Max
Spending my retirement fund at Trader Joe's and trying to remember to check my mailbox semi-regularly
@BostonMaxG
@boston_maxg
Dude you should bang Lyla.
Duda had PASTA with Mia. Then she went to Italy with him.
Do you have a pay_pal account ? in the event if you do you can make an extra 650 a week in your account working on the internet for four hours per day.. go here….https://goo.gl/8ccGhw
Lyla is great but she’s a lunatic. I’m trying to bang Lyla’s friends
Damn dude, have you ever heard of this amazing new app called Bumble? If you put in half the effort there that you do trying to bang Lyla’s friends, you’d be getting laid every week.
These Jewish girls don’t put out unless you’re a 6’2 Italian guy named Giordano (who’s probably banging Mia as I type this) or you’re an IDF soldier on their birthright trip or you’re extremely loaded.
Well that wasn’t very nice, I’m sure he knows Mia is getting banged by Giordano. He doesn’t need you reminding him.
STOP TRYING. That’s your problem.
Yeah just bang Lyla
If you look at one of Max’s comments in last week’s piece, he says that he’s even better friends with Lyla than he is with Mia, which means that Lyla has probably put him in the same compartment as her gay friends.
“Boston Max – 9:44 p.m.: We should meet up *basic bitch emoji*
Mia – 9:48 p.m.: YEA BAE”
“I’m Joe buck. Hand over your man card”
If a girl calls you bae and she hasn’t touched your tallywacker then she never will.
But he also says things like “disintegrate my Y chromosome.” Speakin my language, sir.
Did you really even try to break out of the friend zone though? Not to kick ya when you’re down B-Max but from what i witnessed from your articles you just kept doing friend stuff in an attempt to get out of the friend zone which seems like a sisyphean effort. But glad you shut the door on Mia for the sole fact that her style of text messaging makes me want to walk into oncoming traffic on I-10.
I also second the the trend from the comment section, get at Lyla and for sure that’ll make Mia jealous #karma
I agree with this. You haven’t really done anything to put out the vibe to her that you’re attracted to her in more than a friend way. If I was her I would have thought you weren’t interested in me at all.
DC, maybe you’re right. But I think the major uptick in communication between us, initiated by me, after she broke up with the comedian, was a sure fire sign that I was interested, no?
Was it the same type of communication? If there was no real change in how you texted (ie flirting and being suggestive) then I wouldn’t have thought anything about the increased texting.
No, you’re hundo P right. I’m just afraid if I really lay the cars on the table, I may lose her as a friend. Which, in the long run, I would hate. Nice Greek mythology reference. Maybe this whole friend zone thing I’ve been flying too close to the sun…just call me dickarus
Risk you gotta take B-Max and if she was such a good friend she would have hit you with the morning “Omg! i hope your knee is ok” or some kind of variation of that text if you really got your knee that messed up, regardless just to show empathy and general regard for a friend’s well being.
To tack onto what OkCPA is saying – being friends with a girl you’re attracted to, but who doesn’t share the same feelings, is terrible for your mental health/self esteem. I’m speaking from first hand experience. Losing a friend sucks, but having a friend that makes you feel like a beta male is worse.
You did the right thing to not text Mia back. If she comes back (or in the event that you find yourself in this situation again), you need to put the cards on the table and if she hits you with the “I like you better as a friend” tell her straight up that you’re attracted to her, the feeling isn’t going away anytime soon, and that it’d be best if you went your own way. She will at least gain some respect for you and may change her mind in the future. In the event that she doesn’t, you’ll at least walk away knowing that you stuck up for yourself.
Last thing. From what I’ve read, you and I have a lot in common (when it comes to talking to girls). I’m not good at seducing women through texts; I always beat around the bush because I feel like being forward or suggestive is awkward (I’ve been told its not but still feels weird). Ive accepted that I’ll never be an SMS Casanova and now just text minimally to establish an in person meeting. Go in for the kiss while hanging in person. It’s a hit or miss but saves you time you could be spending with someone who is into it and the awkward agony of trying to figure out if she’s into you through words on a screen.
This was more than a little painful to read, way close to home. Thanks for basically calling me out CFA. A sailor who isnt mine (wish he was) just came back from deployment. He hasn’t sent me even 3 messages since the sub surfaced, but we used to talk all the time. He said while still abroad that he would visit. Time to lay my cards out and maybe thank him for his service.
Get after it. Godspeed.
I once got out of the friend zone with a girl by dating her friend and making her jealous. I second trying to get a Lyla or possibly another friend of Mia’s. Can’t be too close a friend though
This is a weird Morning Coffee Thoughts…
In all seriousness, I enjoy these columns and I believe one day you’ll be a legend for our kid’s kids to hear about breaking free from the shackles of the friend zone
With Lyla maybe
They got their pup crawl today, I’m surprised we even got this may articles today.
Putting this original thought out there, seeing if it has legs: bang lyla
Breaking my heart, Max. Breaking my heart
via GIPHY
Max this article and your texts made me cringe because Ive been there plenty of times with girls I liked. Put in the friend zone but also too scared to make a move, so the vicious cycle continued. I think there are certain girls out there that tend to attract these types of guys over and over because they like the attention. I can almost guarantee Mia has 4-5 other “guy friends” similar to you, who are in love with her and will be there at a moments notice for her whenever she feels like it.
You cannot just be friends with this girl no matter how hard you try. Why dont you just ask Lyla if she thinks Mia has any feelings for you. Or tell Lyla that you kinda have a crush on Mia and see what Lyla says. I promise you Lyla will have the inside scoop on what guys Mia likes.
If Mia doesnt feel the same way for you then just stop talking to her. Focus your attention on other girls that do want to have sex with you. I promise you there are thousands of girls in NYC that will sleep with you and may in fact have feelings for you. It took me a long time to realize this, but once I did, I have had more success with girls. Life is too short to focus your time and effort on girls that dont like you.
As much as others will deny that the dreaded friend zone doesnt exist. It does exist. I’ve been there, youve been there, others have been there. You are in the friend zone right now amigo, do yourself a favor and either make a move or move on!
Good effort but not really I guess. Better luck next time and keep swinging.
Hats off for the Lou Pinella reference
Please make a real direct move. I’m getting second hand anxiety thinking about you watching her marry some Italian pasta eater in 5 years wondering what might have happened if you did make a move.
Yeah, this is true. But I’m afraid that if I do make a real direct move and she doesn’t feel that way….I worry it might ruin our friendship, and I really do want her as a friend
Could you be friends with her and date anyone else without saying “but Mia is so much more (fill in the blank)” because I had to stop dating entirely for one asshole. Still waiting on that asshole if we’re being honest. This thing is going to fly or seriously crash and burn, and its ok either way… but that was a tough conclusion to come to. Good luck Max, but make a fucking move.