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I haven’t been trying very hard to hook up with Mia since forever. We’ve both been busy frolicking through New York on parallel tracks, enjoying each other’s company only as friends. Same goes with her bestie Lyla, with whom the peanut gallery wanted me to schtup, but that’s not how I roll (it’s also not up to me, as it never is). And while there hasn’t been too much blog worthy material (save for waking up one day with a semi-naked Lyla in my bed – – platonic blackout sleepover, it would seem), you never know when the fortunes will turn. Am I crushing on Mia nearly as much as I was back in the spring? For sure not. But, she’s still a beautiful woman any guy would be lucky to date.
However, I am, by most advanced metrics, playing down a man, so to speak. We’ve been friends a solid year now. She’s single, sure, but dating dudes not named me. I’m dating girls not named her. And the longer we go down the path towards being old enough friends where sex is pretty much farther from the table than Rex Ryan after lap-band surgery, the more insurmountable a potential relationship becomes.
Truth be told, I haven’t hooked up with someone who I was first friends with in a longggg time. Several years. I’ve been out of the game a while, as they say. But what we’re all forgetting is that I AM the fucking game, pal.
Being as how some of my friends can be wet blankets at times whenever I remark that I want a somewhat classy meal, I wasn’t surprised when they balked at me when I asked if they wanted to grab a burger at The Spotted Pig, a formerly Michelin starred West Village gastro pub with a celebrity chef, and a hamburger that I personally believe is the best burger in Manhattan.
But, I knew Mia, being the down ass chick that she is, would jump at the chance. So, the two of us went.
We sat at a small, secluded table for two, laughing, crushing beers and burgers, and enjoying each other’s company. At one point, Mia made a comment about the small table: “I invited my friend Jen; good thing she didn’t come. There’s no room!”
“Who’s Jen,” I asked.
“A friend from high school. And camp. We grew up together. I actually thought you guys should meet, I think you’d hit it off.”
It hit me like a wrecking ball in the gut, except without a naked Miley Cyrus ride on top. Okay, I’m being a little dramatic. It didn’t really impact me at all, if we’re being honest. And that’s when I knew my crush on Mia was beginning to fade. I didn’t mind that she was potentially trying to set me up with a friend.
We wrapped up our dinner and made our way to a bar to have a few more beers. It was at this point when Mia and I started swapping some recent happenings in our lives regarding the opposite sex. Shared some hook up horror stories, I convinced her the guy she was seeing was either gay or a virgin because he was refusing to have sex with her, you know, the usual stuff. Anyway, several beers later it was time to part ways with a warm hug and a pleasant goodbye.
And I told you this relatively boring and mundane recounting of dinner and drinks with a friend to bring up what is essentially one of the longest debates I’ve had with my friends for years: when is a date, a “date.”
I postulate that a date is any time two people spend time together who have a non-zero chance of ending the night with some sort of sexual activity. And whether the other party is aware of it or not is, to be quite frank, irrelevant. (PLEASE, do not construe this as some sort of consent issue, hear me out).
Yes, Mia went into this dinner with what I assume is a platonic friend (me). But, let’s say, instead of us discussing the fact that she’s having boy issues manifesting as her new dude possibly being a gay virgin who refuses to mount her like a horny teenager, we talked about how she hasn’t really been dating, or she’s been having trouble connecting with dudes, or whatever. I could work with that. I could help get that platonic friend date to something different. And you can, too. Because you, like me, are still in the game. We’re still in it. The final whistle hasn’t blown.
I’ve dated girls who’ve started as friends, and we had been friends for a while before dating. It really is all a matter of timing. When the moment is right, you’ll know, and you’ll make a move.
For me, I don’t think something with Mia is going to happen any time soon. She’s seeing a dude (possibly a virgin) and I’ve been getting very limited signals from her. Texting less, Snapchatting less, hanging out a little less. But, obviously, that’s natural, especially if she’s dating a dude. Things were definitely different between us back in the spring, but I actually take that as a positive. A sign that I did have a shot, when maybe we all thought I was just her emotional tampon.
In fact, I think there was a window for me to hook up with her. And I botched it, or at least, could’ve played it better. Maybe she was also texting this virgin dude and he played it better than I did. Maybe not. I’ll probably never know, or even want to know.
It’s funny; I’m not really upset about any of this. Life goes on. Mia and I probably are better as friends, if I’m really being honest with myself. So we’ll continue down our parallel tracks in NYC. We’ll hang out, we’ll have fun, we’ll be friends.
But in the words of Topanga Lawrence: I do my thing and you do your thing. You are you and I am I. And if in the end we end up together, it’s beautiful..