A few months ago, I talked at length on the pitfalls of being the Gay Best Friend Only Straight. And if you don’t remember (or too lazy to click that link), I concluded that girls treat me as such because I’m too nice. I mean, not nice enough to trust me with your sister, but still nice nonetheless. Well, months have passed since I made that conclusion, and here’s a progress report:
Progress? What progress?
Yeah, girls still treat me as a GBFOS. Other guys envy me because I can seem to get into the girls’ trust zone immediately and not set off any “rapist alerts”. But I tell you, it’s not actually pretty in there. Mainly because women treat me like a eunuch and you tend to learn things that you can be happier off not hearing. Like that time this one girl was having her period and she actually pulled a blood clot the size and shape of a squid out of her privates. Cringing now? Now you know how I feel.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s actually awesome for me to be able to win a girl’s trust quite easily. I actually don’t mind playing best friend to some women, because I have masturbatory fodder after a heartfelt talk about the vivid details of their sex lives. But weirdly though, as much as women trust me, I’m still that “guy who you tell all your dirty secrets to even if it’s plain obvious that he’s head over heels over you and hearing how much your boyfriend fucked you up for the nth time makes him cringe with anger. And lust.”
Yeah, it’s pretty fucked up from where I’m standing.
I find it rather weird that even if I’m probably the nicest guy you’ll meet within a twelve-mile radius, women seem to gravitate towards the “I’m gonna bash you and your dad’s face and impregnate you and eat the fetus out of your stomach while you watch” type of men. And where does that leave me? Patting their backs, telling them that someone better (me) will come along.
Women don’t tend to see us GBFOS guys as anything else but a dumping ground for all their misery, while we give big brotherly advice and stupidly step into the friend zone. And then we get locked in, with – as Noelle so eloquently puts it – “land mines, alarms, searchlights, and electrified fences.” So the knight in shining armor shtick we try to exude turns into a big joke. Awesome.
I guess I’ve been whining too much about this situation of mine and not doing enough to rectify it. Since I’m being too nice at the expense of my sex life and sanity, I need to do something. Anything.
Here are ways to make Ade awesomely desirable to women. Or at least a little less nice.
- I’d probably try to start smoking already. I don’t have any inhibitions on smoking a stick or two when I feel like it, but I think it’s about time I take it up as a habit. As in twelve packs a day. Minimum. I’m pretty sure by the time I stink like nicotine, I’m coughing like I have tuberculosis, my lips look like charcoal has been spread over them thrice over and my teeth look like they might fall off at any moment because of the accumulated weight of the tar building up on them, I’ll officially become hardcore and women will kneel before me, begging me to take them to bed. And impregnate them.
- I’d also wear leather jackets. Everywhere. Even if the heat in this godforsaken country of ours is beyond the average human threshold of pain, I’d still wear the shit out of the thickest, baddest leather jacket.
- Shades. Because dark glasses add to the “mysterious sonofabitch” appeal. I’d wear shades even if it was night and I was tripping all over various obstacles in the road. Image is everything, baby.
- Also, I think I have to start going to the gym and grow muscles. And take steroids. So I’d be awesomely buff. And also I have to start smashing stuff around with a baseball bat, punch random people in the face with brass knuckles, and I’ll be totally badass and I’ll have women swooning all around me like I’m farting pheromones or something.
Um, kinda like that.
So, what do you do when you’re in a GBFOS situation? And for the ladies, what can men do to NOT fall into the GBFOS trap?