Posted by: robinsonwarner | July 23, 2008

Platonic Cheating

We’ve all been in the position where you call one of your close friends to go to a party, a bar or event and you can’t get a hold of them or you get the following response, “Nah I’m cool bro/girl, I’m just going to stay in tonight”, or “I’m hanging out with this chick/guy”.  These are all acceptable responses considering your assumed heterosexual friend has needs as all humans do.  This is something you are accustomed to and well aware of otherwise you would not be a functioning member of human society.  Now, as the night progresses, let’s say you are out at this bar and you’ve just come back from getting a drink and you freeze, your palms start sweating and the dragon in your chest begins to roar.  You’ve just caught your friend cheating on you… get ready… with another friend. 

Guys, being highly territorial animals, feel instantly threatened by the presence of an unfamiliar male who is not part of the pack or the circle of trust.  He is not fit to hold the conch.  However, unless this guy your friend is hanging out with is a time tested douchebag, guys often get along rather easily.  This is a sample conversation between the newcomer and yourself if we are dealing with two guys:

“Hey, I’m Brad.  Justin invited me along to get a drink.”

“Do you like beer?”

“Yep.”

“And TV?”

“Sports?”

“Totally.”

“He’s cool.”

Now this is, of course, a terribly oversimplified interaction between you and the newcomer whom your friend invited for whatever reason.  For the time being, between guys, a bromance has been disrupted and then rejoined into a brofecta (three bros hangin’ out).  The point of this is that guys are a little more simple and get along more easily.   Despite the ease at which guys get along barring copious amounts of hairgel, Gucci shirts, Long Island Iced teas, male bronzer, Abercrombie, popped collars, etc.  the friend you catch cheating on you will always have the same look on his face upon being caught.  It desperately states, “I can explain.”

Girls are an entirely different monster.  Not that girls are monsters, but rather the tangled web of social interaction between those with two X-chromosomes is a fucking monstrosity.  So let’s say Sheila is out for an evening with some of her girlfriends, but not her BFFL Jill.  Jill said she was going to stay in and watch Gossip Girl.   Things are going well at the bar and Sheila then heads to the bathroom to wait in line for 25 minutes just to pee. (Sidenote:  I understand that girls have to sit down to pee but why the Jesus Christ monkeyballs is the line for the women’s room fifty times longer than the men’s room?  Is every girl dumping out every single time they go to the bathroom?  Is there a vast female undground laxative trend that could explain this?  Actually, I’d rather not know.)  I digress, so Sheila comes back from the bathroom and she then sees her BFFL Jill standing at the bar with what’s-her-name.   She works at Liberty Mutual with you.  I think her name is Stacy. 

Now, from what I know about girls, which is very little, but enough to write about, many girls have heard some shit about Stacy.  It is common knowledge that women mostly know everything and are always right, but most importantly they have shit on everyone.  Seriously, if you want to have your self esteem drop dramatically, ask a girl with whom you are mildly acquainted to “give it to you straight” or have her tell you “what other people say” about you.  There’s a bottle of whiskey with your name on it.   But in any case, Sheila recalls that time she was eating her Special K breakfast bar in the employee lounge and she heard the fuckin chatty Cathys from accounting talk about how Stacy slept with the entire Cleveland Browns team in one night at college.  Sheila of course dismissed this rumor as ridiculous hearsay because, come on, how do you even sleep with that many people in one night?

But now, as Sheila is filled with rage, suddenly this licentious past seems to hold a little more weight because Stacy is stealing her friend Jill. 

Does anyone watch the Discovery Channel?  Have you ever seen two lionesses just fucking get after it and start scratching and biting each other to death.  It is truly a marvel to behold.  This is of course not how female homo sapien sapiens deal with each other.  They are more like two lionesses who are trained in covert operations by the CIA, except their tactics are for more brutal and socially lethal.  So imagine lioness spies.  This is what females are like when you fuck with something that is theirs.

So now Sheila will not confront her BFFL Jill, who suddenly isn’t acting so BFFL-esque.  She will walk back to her other friends she came with, ignore Jill and Stacy; and while doing so proceed to recall that nasty rumor about Stacy and the football team.  The confrontation will not come for the females, but rather they will spend weeks if not months talking about this platonic cheating and how Stacy is such a slut and I don’t understand why JIll would want to hang out with her.  She also does coke, hates Christmas and Hanukkah, was responsible for the oil crisis in the 1970’s, and punches puppies all the while handing out poison apples to handicapped schoolchildren.

So one can conclude that there is indeed platonic cheating but both men and women deal with it in very different ways.  Men are initially shocked but then easily calmed brontosauruses who settle once it turns out the new brontosaurus also likes eating a leaf from time to time.  Imagine that.  Women are lioness spies.  Don’t fuck with them.   Stacy is such a slut though.  Seriously, Stace, cut the shit.

 

 

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