Friday, March 20, 2009

The friend zone is a diabolical necessity, and The Great (Attempted) Escape.

Women are thought to have invented it in the 1860's, during the ravages of the Civil War. Naturally, military men were everywhere, and several of them were missing limbs. Hotties of the Civil War period were in a bad situation. It would be rude to outright deny the armless, legless, and earless their love, but at the same time, ew. Thus, the friend zone. For those of you who were popular in high school and continued to melt the inhibitions of women well into your adult life, or those who generally don't speak to women, I'll explain the friend zone.

The friend zone is when a woman (or hey, man, who knows?) begins to classify a man as an absolutely platonic figure in her life, while the man in question has romantic feelings. When a woman puts a man in the Zone, she will often string him along, unintentionally or otherwise. Invariably, they will date asshole men, who are nonetheless far preferable to her cronies in the Zone. (With good reason) Women are driven by instinct to seek a superior male specimen, and if you've been on the internet for more than an hour before reading this, you clearly aren't a superior specimen. More likely, you're shy and deferential when a woman speaks to you. (I'm certainly not going to offer dating advice; I'm the least believable source on the subject I can imagine. I will only say that this behavior generally only appeals to women who have been endlessly jerked around by more attractive, interesting men and have (temporarily) grown tired of the lifestyle. But I digress.) Men who aren't labeled as possible mates are filed away into the friend zone, no matter the sincerity or intensity of romantic feelings on the part of the male. The friend zone is nigh-impossible to escape, unless you suddenly become smarter or (more effectively) better looking.

Now, the friend zone can be used as a tool for good. Some guys are just not boyfriend material. Lacking social grace and holding loyalty to a woman only because of her tits and smile, these morose bastards are best suited for duty in the friend zone. They can provide an emergency shoulder for an upset young women, and can often be conned into doing various favors for the woman whose zone they reside in. The main problem here comes from the expectation on the part of the male that these favors mean that the female is indebted to him, in the eternal, universal currency of poontang. Obviously, this is fucking retarded.

We will call this the “Jack” tier of the friend zone.

The F-Zone holds a special place for the ex-lover. Now, this is the most morally ambiguous usage of the friend zone in my opinion. An ex-boyfriend who treated you like shit before the breakup deserves his spot in the zone. Stringing him along, encouraging him, but within moderation...it will drive a man up the walls. This vengeful usage of the friend zone gets high marks, from where I stand. This tier of the zone is highly effective because there is a higher possibility (solely in the mind of the male) of getting a relationship or (more truthfully) sex out of the association, because of the past romance. At the same time, this part of the zone can be used for unintentional evil. Some women, rare though they may be, don't understand that by stringing along an ex-boyfriend they are
not sparing his feelings. They are fucking with his head, and might not even know it. If they do know it, they are either a sadistic bitch, or the man deserves the mindfuck, as previously detailed. Another weakness of this tier is that it's the second most escapable. Recidivism is always a risk after a relationship ends anyway, and maintaining a friendship may occasionally lead to feelings developing on the part of the female. The best solution for this is for the exchange of tales about each other's sexual exploits, which will escalate (because naturally each individual wishes to be the one “moving on) to the point that you'll both be disgusted with each other and the feelings will become confused with resentment. This is best, because hurt and angry are the same as happy for smart people (Dr. Who).

We will call this the “Jack” tier also, if it's all the same to you guys.

The next tier is the most boring and certainly the least known to me. This is because it is not
really the friend zone. This is where women put men who they very much plan to date/sleep with/ride like a government mule/play pool with when they have a boyfriend. They're often dorky in a Paul Rudd/Zach Levi sort of way, which is to say, not dorky at all. They have social skills, they're fairly attractive, and they often only have to wait until the Biochemical Reaction We Call Love runs its course in the woman's preexisting relationship to get out of the Zone. They will complain to their loser friends about being Zoned, and some of them will smack him upside the head because he has NOT FELT THE PAIN!!!1


We will most certainly not call this the “Jack” tier.


By my count, I reside in the Zone of no less than four women, which means I am just as unattractive and stupid as you think I am, as well as easily giving away affectionate feelings.

On St. Patrick's day, I drunkenly and halfway unintentionally made an attempt to escape the strongest (by far) of these Zones. It worked out as well as you might think.

Tomorrow night, I make a mad fucking dash toward the gates of another Zone. I will either leave as a potential partner or as an asshole, but if I fail, I will be a
glorious asshole.

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