I recently stepped away two male . . . well, they weren’t friends or acquaintances. What do you call people who waste your time and treat you with no respect, yet expect you to be receptive and cordial at their convenience? A non-friend? At any rate, I don’t feel bad blowing this type of person off anymore. I think women have a hard time doing anything if it means possibly hurting someone’s feelings, often to the point of being mistreated themselves. It took me a long time to realize what these two guys were up to, but the coincidence of their behavior helped me put the pieces together. The term I use for the treatment these guys dish out is “Backburner Girl.”
We’ll just call him Jack. Jack and I dated in college. He royally blew it by asking me to do his laundry, eating all my food when I could barely afford to feed myself, and showing up three hours late for dates and then getting angry because my roommates had taken me out instead because I was so depressed. Without my knowledge, my sister tried to warn him that my patience was wearing thin and Being Cute was not going to hold up forever as an excuse for being a flaky, inconsiderate moocher.
He didn’t listen. I dumped him two weeks later. He tried to make me feel guilty at the end of “the talk,” saying he felt so blindsided and asking me for a hug with a hurt look. I said no, because I knew what he was up to. One hug and one big stare of those big blue puppy dog eyes, and I’d be weasled into forgiving him. When I found out he’d been tactfully alerted of the exact reasons I gave while dumping him, I felt thoroughly justified, although it still hurt like hell. Even more so because I knew that he valued me so little that he consciously disregarded my feelings but expected me to stay with him anyway. Thank goodness I had the courage to tell Jack to hit the road.
I was stupid and relapsed a couple of times. Out of the blue Jack would call or write — I miss you, I’d really like to try this again — that sort of thing. It was always after he’d been dumped. And it was always presupposed that I’d be willing. The first time I fell for it. He drove down to L.A. and we had a very nice date. Then I never heard from him for a year until it happened again. I was wary, and didn’t encourage him. He didn’t pursue, which meant he didn’t mean it. The third time he pulled that I yelled at him and told him to stop assuming I could be left in the cloak room to be retrieved at his convenience. He stayed away for over four years.
Jack hit me up on Facebook recently. You know, the “hey, just wondering how you’ve been” message with the familiar stink of insincerity. I read over his blog and profile. Ten years since college, and no real career, no real changes in his opinions or attitudes, and no real sign of enrichment or expansion of character. I waited two weeks to send back a response, which was all of two sentences that talked about how busy and happy I was. I still hear from him now and again, but I think he’s gotten the message that a mover and shaker like yours truly isn’t interested in what he has to offer. Especially when what he has to offer is nothing in exchange for my precious time.
The Internet, unfortunately, is an enormous enabler in the field of non-dating and non-friendships. The first guy I’ve decided to phase out only communicates with me via instant messenger, wistfully hinting at deep romantic longing from time to time. But he never calls me and actually avoids seeing me in person. The second likes to see how much of my attention he can monopolize when the whim seizes him, rewarding a prompt e-mail reply with flirty yet noncommital language. Even if I were technically available, neither one of these guys are really interested in me, romantically or otherwise. They just want the ego stroke.
I’ve decided to shut down all communication with those two, because it’s irritating being treated as someone who can be pinged at a moment’s notice with the full expectation of a warm reception from a woman just gagging for it. Both of these guys are full of crap and I’m sick of the stench. The really sad part is that they will probably never figure it out. But that ain’t my problem, so best of luck, Jack and Jack. Don’t bother coming back no more. The one advantage of the Internet being the preferred tool of the idiot man-boy is that it’s an easy connection to sever. The man-boy is way too lazy to put forth the kind of effort that non-dating in real life takes. I just find it odd that I have to “non-break up” with two men I have never dated and have no interest in dating. Maybe this is what virtual life means.
I’m not interested in being left on the back boiler, quietly simmering away everything I have so that the sweet smell of ego stimulant can waft through the air for someone who will never make me his main dish. I don’t ever want to be treated with the cavalier attitude of being a Plan B, someone who’s always there as an option for later, something to be fished out of the bargain bin because nothing better came along. If you treat me this way, I will cut you out of my life.
Lots of guys have done this without being really aware of it. Well, congratulations. Now you’re responsible for your actions. Stop being a guy women continuously become disillusioned with, and stop blaming “crazy chicks” for all of your problems. Women might be insane, but you guys are buttheads. At least in elementary school you had the decency to just throw rocks at us when you knew you wanted our attention but didn’t know what you wanted it for. Now you use passive-aggressive emotional entanglement to lead us on and then wonder why we’re basket cases? Please switch back to the rocks, because at least the sting helps us know we should stay away.
Nick Hornby put it more eloquently than I ever could in High Fidelity, so I will simply say this: go to the bookstore and pick up a copy. When you get to page 315, you will read the following:
“I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old, and frankly speaking, between you and me, I have come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains.”
If you get that far through the book and don’t feel those words ringing true, consider buying a bunch of cats because you will never have a functional relationship with another adult.
Is it so hard to do? You’re not that into a girl, but you don’t really want to be her friend. So just leave her alone. I’m all for exploding socially created gender roles, but I do believe in the biological differences that affect behavior. Most gender wars are based on the unconscious clashes of differences in the way we’re wired. A shrewish wife leaves her husband too intimidated for romance, and then she wonders why he won’t buy her flowers. The man-boy keeps girls on the backburner so he has “options” and to make sure he’s hot enough to pull in tail. But guys like this are disgusting because they do this with total lack of consideration toward a woman’s innate difficulty to abandon anything once she’s invested in it.
A man has unlimited reproductive capability, whereas a woman must sacrifice time, her body, her health, and her energy to laboriously produce a limited number of children. In modern times it’s even more risky; she must jeopardize her career, economic security, and opportunities for providing for herself in old age to have babies. I think a lot of this translates to how men and women think about dating. Despite women gaining equal legal status, they still aren’t the ones who go out on the prowl at bars. They still get to be picky, and the men still have a much easier time being shot down. But despite our biology, we’re not animals, and all the people I know are way too smart to get away with lame excuses for selfish behavior. Stringing girls along bolsters the man-boy, but it drowns the women he does it to.
Be my acquaintance. Be my friend. Date me. Or leave me alone. Divorce leaves scars on everybody, and I carried away a zero tolerance policy for dishonesty and people who waste my time. I only want friends, and friends are people who never make you feel robbed of time or energy. I have no time for enemies or people who don’t know what they want. It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I only have time to spend, not time to waste.
