My Trash, Not Exactly Your Treasure

Oddly enough, my friends and I never collided when it came to boys. Our tastes were so vastly different- mostly because I had some and they didn’t ( I KID! o_O ) that it never posed as an issue.

It is estimated that there are 6,697,254,041 people on earth. 309,338,000 of them live in the U.S. Roughly 18,560,280 are men. Crap ton of them are single (fill out your damn census!) There is absolutely no reason to recycle. END OF STORY.

Fortunately for me, my best friend decided to go green recently and embrace “ reduce and reuse “ as her mantra. Unfortunately for me, she meant she was she was reducing her pool of guys and reusing mine. Awesome.

Actual Conversation

X: Would you mind if I started dating B?
Me: Um… No I guess not. It’s not like we were official or anything.
X: Really? Great! I mean I wouldn’t if you had a problem with it.
Me: Sure…


Actual Conversation (in my head)

X: Would you mind if I started dating Fagatron?
Me: Are you retarded?
X: It’s not gross or inappropriate, right?
Me: Are you retarded?
X: I know there are like a million other guys, but we had sexxxs so it’s kind of special now.
Me: …
X: I think you’re being selfish
Me: I think you’re being a whore.

Yes, I know for you avid readers you distinctly remember as I climbed on top of my high horse and denounced the words whore , slut, and skank from my vocabulary. But that was before I met one in real life and earned back the right to use it.

Even more despicable is when fuck ups try to patronize you and act as if they are genuinely surprised at the outcome of their strategic decisions they played to get what they want. Own up to it PUH REEESE!

Actual Conversation

X: We didn’t expect this. It just happened.
Me: Yeah… I almost never participate is sketchy web chats every night with guys my friends were interested in.
X: I mean we were totally caught off guard.
Me: Yeah that happens when you invite a guy you never met to vacation at your house.
X: I’m so glad you understand!

Ok so clearly there are remnants of an angry, bitter separation I have yet to fully come to accept, but such is the case in relationships you feel the most invested in.

Please don't get me wrong. The mourning doesn't come from a loss of this particular boy. Clearly he's a winner... It's PRINCIPLE! If one has to ask, it is WRONG. Questionable means shady. Shady means danger. Danger means destructive to friendship. Anymore questions?

I don’t believe in recycling boys. I don’t believe in asking if it’s ok to recycle boys. If you breathe on him, he’s yours. If you touch him, he’s yours. If you kiss him, he’s yours. If you sleep with him he’s yours.

Oh- I don’t know-but he has now been lifted from the market of mass consumption because- so sorry- I’m on a strict no Double Dip Diet. Left overs are gross. Sloppy seconds are vomit inducing. * Wrinkles nose in disgust *

Although my former bestie, void of all common logic, would like to argue that he would always be somebody’s sloppy seconds, I’d rather let E.coli eat through my lower intestines before I helped myself to some of my friend’s sloppy seconds. Just doesn’t sit well in the stomach, no?

I’m sorry. Did I miss something in Friendship Decency 101? Was it not alarmingly clear this rule? Are we so peen deprived that friendships are now casualties in the wake of pursuing men?

Message to X: In case you didn’t know… There are 18,560,280 fucking men in America. Some of whom didn’t get the memo you are an awful skank. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t collect my trash, and, instead started a proactive effort to find your own guys. I’m sure you’d like me to get over this, but… I MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!

Simply Emily