The Friend Zone

I’m sick of people complaining about being Friend Zoned. Obviously it’s super misogynist to act like if you’re nice to a woman, she’s obligated to sleep with you. If you’re the kind of guy who says “friend zone”, you didn’t get friend zoned. She hates you.

But the complaint doesn’t make any sense to me because getting new friends is awesome! I’ve had a tough time making friends as an adult, and you’re mad you got another one on accident? Fuck you, Mr. Popular.

If anybody wants to friend zone me… let’s fucking do it. Let’s go now. We’ll play a board game, tell secrets, and maybe even develop an inside joke.

You know what else? Of course not I haven’t told you yet. But here’s what else: The Friend Zone, as a physical space, sounds rad! That sounds like the name for the arcade the Foot Clan hangs out in.

Go. Play.

You can skateboard indoors in the Friend Zone. I bet when you walk out there’s a sign on the door that just says, “I’m proud of you.”

It’s obviously a myth anyway. Nobody has ever hung out with a guy trying to fuck them and been like, “No sex but I bet he’d make a good pal.” My penis has been a lot of things, but it’s never been the key to open up the magical gate of friendship. I’ve tried to sleep with somebody and ended up in the Enemy Area, I’ve done that.

One time I was trying to be in the Friend Zone with this woman in college and through a process I don’t understand, I ended up in the Husband Sector. That was weird, but I like it.

The thing I want the most now when I meet a woman is “Can I get in the friend zone?” And if not, I’ll just try to get into the “I’ll-listen-to-his-podcast enclosure.”

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