London – Throwaway Friends

Women tend to put aside their platonic male friends quite easily, I think.  We’re easily dispensed with, you see – a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear to agree that “all men are evil *ssholes” in bad times.  But then the next boy comes along, who will cause you to claim that “my [new] boyfriend isn’t an *ss!”  Well, we become rubbish, to be thrown aside like so much detritus material.

I’ve seen the pattern so many times over the years.  Emails, IM’s, a presence – while she’s single.  But it all dries up soon enough.  After all, another man has arrived who validates her life, who completes her, who understands better than all the other assholes.  She’s got it right this time.  This time, he’s a keeper.

Maybe the new boy is a keeper but what isn’t in doubt is that she’ll fade out of others’ lives.  She’ll deny the waning of interest though, the dissolution of her presence in your life as hers becomes occupado once more.  She’ll claim it’s not the occupation of the next chemmra – it’s the job, the work, the studies, the exams that suddenly fill her time, that prevent her from chatting.  Right, then.

I never did understand the term Bro’s Before Ho’s until recently.  I thought it was rather shovanistic.  It’s true though ain’t it.  I’ve talked to enough females over the years to realize that her interest in your life is maintained only so long as there’s not really a man in hers.

As long as she has something to complain about, she’ll listen to your troubles (though barely half-heartedly) just so she can eventually get to hers.  But my bro’s are always around when I need them; doesn’t matter if he’s swamped at work or struggling at school, if he’s got girl problems of his own or if he has no girl at all.  At least some things aren’t subject to such flights of fancy.  I’m glad of that.

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