Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Lola vs. Crazy Girl Paranoia Land

I have come to yet another sad realization. Girlfriends just don't like me. I mean REALLY don't like me. (M- you're pretty much the only one so far who I've had mad success with!) Maybe it's the big boobs/ video game/one of the guys combo but regardless, they don't even give me a modicum of a chance. I'm not weighed, measured, and found lacking. I am immediately dismissed as some sort of seductress-whore-who-only-goes-after-taken-men. Apparently, according to them, single guys don't interest me and- I'm quoting someone now- it's my M.O. to go after guys who are attached. Seriously? It's my modus operandi? I'm some sort of 1960's film noir black widow, who not only leaves a litter of corpses in my wake but can also be connected to multiple crimes?

I have a lot of examples of the crazy girl paranoia that has become indicative of my relationships with my guy friends' significant others. But for the sake of time and blog entry length, I'm just going to focus on one. I have known my friend Justin for over ten years now- we were practically roommates (platonic!!!) once upon a time- and I recently met his fiancee, Pam.

This is the first conversation we ever had:

Setting: Big, sprawling well-lit bar. Our heroine, Lola, steps into the scene, her jeans and t-shirt slightly rumpled from the 4 hour car ride she has just endured. Still, she has a warm smile on her face as she scans the bar. Her large, brown eyes light up as they find a handsome couple across the room. Immediately she heads over to them, gives Justin, a twenty-something copper haired guy, a hug and introduces herself to Pam, a stunning blond in her early twenties. Justin immediately goes back to the game of pool he has been immersed in.

Lola: (with a warm smile) It's so nice to finally meet you! Justin has been talking about you forever!
Pam: (with apprehension) He's talked about you a lot too.
Lola: Oh. (pausing awkwardly) He's said that you're an adjunct professor, right? That seems like a crazy amount of hard work but at least you get summers off!
Pam: Sometimes I teach during the summer.
Lola: (looking down, notices Pam's shoes and gives a little sigh of delight) Those heels are so cute! Where did you get them?
Pam: I forget.
Justin: (shouting from across the room, jumping up and down, making a rude gesture to his friend) Suck on that Steve!
Lola: (laughing as she gives Pam a slight nudge) And he's all yours!

However here is what happened in crazy girl paranoia land:

Setting: Dingy smoky, pub with scattered pool tables. Our femme fatale, Lola, languidly sashays into the bar, her skin-tight red dress matches the exact shade of her full, pouty lips. Her kohl-rimmed eyes smolder as she targets Justin. With a coy, seductive smile on her lips, Lola struts over to the couple and drapes herself all over Justin. Justin, a twenty-something copper headed mischief-maker, leans into the hug with undisguised fervor. After a longing glance back at Lola, Justin unwillingly goes back to his game of pool. One eyebrow raised in utter disdain, Lola holds out her hand to Pam, a cute, blond ingenue with innocent blue eyes.

Lola: (with a malevolent grin) So we finally meet. Justin drones on and on about you.
Pam:(with apprehension) He's talked about you a lot too.
Lola: (mocking tone) He's said that you're an old school marm, right? How, um, charming. (laughing cruelly) That's too much work for me. I prefer going out and stealing other women's men. At least you get the summers off to do that.
Pam: (pausing a moment) Sometimes I teach during the summer.
Lola: (looking down at Pam's shoes with complete and utter contempt) Those heels are so... cute. Where did you get them? (pausing dramatically) So I can avoid that store like the plague.
Pam: (looking wounded) I forget.
Justin: (shouting from across the room) Suck on that Steve! (winking at Lola conspiratorially now) Remember when you used to do that to me, Lola?
Lola: And he's all yours! (the next is said under her breath with a breathy, maniacal laugh) For now.

Is complimenting a girls shoes and asking about her job tantamount to insulting her calling in life, insinuating that you will seduce their man, and mocking her clothes? Because if that's seriously how people can interpret things in crazy girl paranoia land, god, I'm so glad I don't live there. I'm quite comfortable residing in the township of saying-exactly-what-I-think.


Michele said...

I love it! I want to hear the other stories!!!! I don't get it! You're way too nice to be seen that way!

The Caped Tirader said...

Wow...its tough being the girl with mostly guy friends, huh? Women just do not trust each other...probably because they don't trust their men...sad state of affairs...speaking of affairs, you shoulda hit on him in front of her..that woulda been hilarious...ok, maybe not... :OP

Tint said...

Edit...Interior scene of bar. Lola Lakely femme fatale, slinks in with microphone and serenades us Jessica Rabbit Style.
"You had plenty of money in 1922.
You let other women make a fool of you.
Why don't you do right,like some other men do?"

Doesn't she realize you only like furry white guys with long ears that make you laugh.

Misty Rosas said...

Hahaha. I like the two-sided interpretation. That most certainly happens with most women. I'm lucky because my husband isn't like most men. I don't think he knows other women exist. Most wives or girlfriends probably have good reason to be suspicious of their man's female friends. Most men "don't have female friends. They have women they haven't f**ked yet." Those are the strikingly brilliant words of Chris Rock. It's totally right. I just wished women would apply this suspiciousness to their men instead of other women.

Spryte said...

LOL! I hear ya!!!!! Girlfriends are usually WAY too much work. It's so much easier to be just one of the guys!

bluntdelivery said...

YES, YES, YES! um, sorry if that sounded like a fake "O" but i have finally found someone who understands me...

oh, isn't it dreadful? I cannot imagine if we lived in the same city. we could at least seek solace in each other. the rooms would clear out whenever we entered. the air would freeze with sterile looks.

Sigh. i heart you.

you've read my "why i hate women: let me count the ways" right!? it pretty much sums it up

Laura said...

I read it directly after your comment. And yes, huge dramatic sigh, we really are sisters from another mother.