Quick Rant: Her Friends Judge Me By Committee

From our reader Eric E., who would prefer to not hear the gabbing from her gaggle.

Meeting her friends is great, but being interrogated by her network of consiglieri sucks! Why must dating her be turned into a popularity contest? You’d think I was trying to rush the world’s most exclusive sorority while wearing nothing but a Speedo and a hemp necklace. How did I end up as an expendable character in Dangerous Liaisons?

I realize that she scrutinizes me in phone conversations with her mom; that comes with the territory. In fact, I’d be disappointed if I didn’t merit a brief mention every now and again. But it’s different with her friends, who, rather than promoting her happiness, seem intent only on plotting my downfall. I’m bombarded with questions about music, films, and current events, as though I’ll unwittingly expose myself as a degenerate with questionable taste and suspect provenance. Is it really that important that I know the difference between East and West Coast rap? Am I embarrassing myself by thinking Repo Man was a cool movie? Should I be forever penalized if once, while I was sitting in a Starbucks, an elderly woman gave me her sandwich because she thought I was homeless?

On the surface, her friends were just being chatty, taking an interest in me because I’m with her. But each inquiry is delivered with a hint of menace. My every position is immediately probed for weakness, as though I’m defending myself before an ad hoc committee of Cinderella’s bitter stepsisters. Even the most casual get-together ends with me feeling like I’m on all fours at the Westminster Kennel Club, being inspected from snout to tail while the weight of my balls is measured by hand. “They’re not symmetrical,” one might say. “One’s smaller than the other. Tsk, tsk.”

The worst is that her viewpoint is noticeably altered by the machinations of the cabal. Sunday morning, she complimented me on my charming affability at last night’s dinner party. But by Wednesday afternoon, she’s scolding me for my boorish behavior at the same event. She might even cite one of her confidants: “So-and-so thought your comments about Monica Lewinsky were tactless.” Is there any doubt that she’s being told she can do better—much, much better?

This is funny. My friends are much nicer. They usually try to make an honest effort to like the fella I'm with. The fangs don't come out until after he does something fucked up and/or dumps me in an immature way. THEN SHIT GETS REAL VERY QUICK.