As a guy who’s been labeled as “safe” and having a “boy-next-door vibe“, I noticed that girls tend to trust me. A lot. I’m the guy who women hang out with and tell all their dirty linen to while he secretly masturbates to their stories when they’re not looking. It’s good to be trusted, which means that girls are totally comfortable with me and they have no qualms nor inhibitions whatsoever with me.
Okay, maybe they trust me a tad too much.
You know some girls being considered one of the boys? I think I fall into the male equivalent of that situation. Because girls lug me around when shopping for clothes, make up, perfume, feminine pads, and other girly stuff you don’t even wanna know. They treat me as their gay best friend. Only straight.
It’s different from being a guy best friend. As in totally. I only noticed it lately, mainly because hanging out with my lady friends always puts me in these awkward situations:
- While walking in the mall, girl suddenly grabs my arm and starts pinching it like crazy. Thinking she’s gone mad or something, I throw her a quizzical look. She discreetly points at a guy who just passed by, and asks “Isn’t he the cutest?” I give her a blank stare in reply. Girl gives me a “you’re not gonna survive my PMS claws if you don’t agree” look. I grudgingly agree to guy’s cuteness, even though I have no idea how to tell if a guy is cute. Girl flashes me a big smile, happy and contented. And I feel half the man I used to be.
- Hot girl from I’m crushing on since college messages me on YM. First word of message: “Kuya!” Then she proceeds to send me hot pics of her in a two-piece bikini.
- Girl tries on make up. Shows it to me. Asks if it looks good on her. I answer, “I like the other shade of lipstick better.” Scary thing is that I meant it.
- Girl goes into a clothing store. Girl shows me two pieces of clothing, which are identical save for some nearly-invisible indentation near the sleeves. I choose blouse # 2. Mainly because I feel that it accentuates her figure better, and it gives her a much womanly look and… and… I’m beginning to wonder why I even know these things. I am officially depressed.
So those things are superficial. But remember, I also mentioned that girls trust me too much. Up to the point that they will tell me anything. And there’s this thing about trusting somebody too much: that someone ends up in the friend zone. With land mines, alarms, searchlights, and electrified fences. That somebody is me.
Sometimes you also tend to land in “too much info” territory, and it’s not a nice place to be. Case in point:
- On a date: we find a quiet little corner in the busy mall. We sit there, grinning wide, looking deep into each other’s eyes with those meaningful stares. Then after what seems an eternity, she opens up the conversation. I listen intently, hoping to hear how important I am to her. Instead I hear a detailed description of her last date with that guy and the hot secks she got afterwards. I just stare at her, not knowing what to say. I excuse myself and bawl my eyes out in the bathroom.
- Girl who I just professed my love to and expressed my intentions of courting texts me the day after the big confession, telling me she’s currently in a date with her fugly other suitor. And she texts me a detailed account of the date. Even with me not replying. And she texts me something like “Best friend! I’m so happy. I really like him.” I notice that people around are hiding sharp and pointed objects from me.
I just realized that maybe I am too nice, because girls tend to go for the muscular rich guy who’s into frats and fisticuffs and crashing his umpteenth car into a wall and who excretes testosterone by the bucketful. Not the sensitive Dominic Ochoa lookalike who’s into poetry and books and painting and writing and cries at sunsets who excretes estrogen by the bucketful.
Is it possible to become too nice? Am I too nice? I asked some women who I am close to, and these are the answers I got:
- Ingrid, college classmate: Yes.
- Rachelle, college classmate: Yes.
- Mei Mei, college friend: Yesssss.
- Ginny, officemate: *sigh* Yes.
- Liz: Yeah.
- Steel: Yes. *tee-hee*
- Baddie: Wait, why the fuck is Steel in this list?
Thank you, ladies for your unanimous input. I feel so much better now. In fact, I feel so great I feel like hanging myself.
Some questions: ladies, do you have a “gay best friend, only straight”? Why do you think of that guy that way? Also, guys, have you ever been in the same rut as I am?