The Company He Keeps

Today, I have almost no (that is, zero) close friends.

The female friends all washed out because of the sex thing. Unlike my closest male friends, my closest female friends couldn't discuss sex, emotions or deeply held dreams, without thinking that the next natural step was at least sex, and probably a deeper involvement.

The big failing of my relationships with other guys always comes down to one of two things: they think emotional closeness is the same as being gay, or, more often, they do the dumb "alpha male" contest thing, where they need to prove how tough they are.

With women, it's always the slow path to them subtly criticizing their husband or boyfriend, playfully touching, usually by slapping, poking or tickling, and eventually giving that long soft look and sigh which signals, "train wreck ahead!" With guys, it always go something like this: a friend is off on a rant about some conflict, real or imagined, and in telling the story, grabs, strikes, or otherwise molests you, pretending you are the opponent he's describing. Your friend rants away, much closer to you than is socially acceptable for people that aren't having sex, creating a scene, and putting you in the worst situation any guy can be put in by his buddy. You can laugh, and play along, but let's face it, that makes you feel like a pussy. You can hit your friend, in which case you feel like a dick. It's really a no-win situation.

Oh, and if the guy thinks your gay, he will probably either stop talking to you, or he'll wrongfully go the romance route (see, my complaint about straight women, above).

Most of my female friendships end with "I don't want to put my hands on you" and most of my guy friendships end with "I don't really want your hands on me."

There's a reason I have so few friends. People suck.

I have a wife I love, and I'm not here to prove I'm the pack leader. I'm a guy that likes some company sometimes, worries a lot, wishes he had people other than his wife and God to talk to some days, and hates violence enough to come a little unhinged when threatened. I can care about you without wanting to fuck you, and I can stand up for myself without wanting to play the stupid "top dog" game.

Someone once asked why I like gay women so much. It's easy: they don't think we need to sleep together to be close, they pretty much never want to sleep together, they aren't worried that being close is "gay," and they don't hit me during conversations to see if I'll step up or back down.

I'm tired of people that need to lean too close to me to read over my shoulder, need to tell me how their husband doesn't get them but I do, need to show me how they manned up on some other guy, or want to show me how they manned up on some other guy, if you know what I mean.

Yes indeed. Gay women. Gay men that "get" that I'm not interested. Oh, and black guys that want to be anything but "ghetto," especially the ones that are or have worked their asses off to get ahead. The rest of you, all you repressed, twisted, insecure, demented, and stupid stupid stupid bitches and assholes: keep your fucking distance. Don't lean on me to read my screen, don't grab my shirt and shake me as a prop in your story, and please (really, please!) don't lick my ear. I'm still trying to get over that one years after the fact.

Just go the fuck away and leave me alone.