27 Dresses

There is something to be said about being “just one of the boys.” You’re the girl that isn’t afraid to get dirty, even if you just got a manicure. Your favorite accessories are cowboy boots and baseball hats-- not because they are trendy, but just because they feel good when you put them on. And there is nothing better tasting than an order of boneless Buffalo wings and an ice cold beer… no matter what time of day it is.

While I am sure every man reading this is going, THAT is my dream woman… I will have you know you are slightly misinformed. Somewhere between my love for sports and my no bullshit knack for calling things like they are, I am normally relegated to a realm no woman ever wants to be shelved in.

You’d think my ability to think like a boy, act like a boy, and be one of the boys would put me in a class above the rest. It would make me the no drama, low maintenance… none of this why didn’t you call me last night so we could listen to each other breathe nonsense.. in short, the perfect girlfriend. I, like you… live and die by the three-day rule unless otherwise specified in the terms of our relationship. And I, unlike most of the other girls you have tried to date have my own thing going on, my own life aside from yours… and you should feel lucky I let you park in it every once in a while. But no.

That’s right.. You’ve unlocked this door with the key of awkwardness. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of ‘asexual’ness, a dimension of embarrassment, a dimension of doormats. You're moving into a land of both closeness and distance, of things and ideas; you've just crossed over into… the Friend Zone.

With the holidays upon us, I found myself heading south back to Tampa to spend time with my friends and family, and avoid the harsh winter weather that had been hanging out since it snowed two days before Halloween. Sick joke, right??.. So aside from lazy days on a boat with friends and nights out with the girls, I also spent some time catching up with an old friend of mine. Did I also mention, we used to date?

Yeah, I know another blog of mine started out very much like this one, but I assure you this one has a very different twist. You see my business with the previously mentioned ex (Mark??) had been resolved for many years now. This other one in question?… Well, bruises on my heart and ego were still pretty fresh. Still, I agreed to meet him for dinner since he insisted he needed someone to talk to. The first half of dinner was just the typical nonsense.. “How is NYC??” “Do you like it??” “What have you been up to???” But, as the sake started rollin, things quickly shifted to the heart of the problem. He told me how unhappy he was in Tampa, being from the Lonestar state, and how he just felt like he was missing something. Given my current situation, I totally understood what he was going through and more. Then he drops the bomb. My ex was sprung on a new girl and he wanted my help.

WHAT?.. I nearly choked on my edemamme. You can not be @#$%ing serious. We don’t speak for months and now you want my help to “get the girl.” Surely, this kid must be high?... Well, he wasn’t. And I shouldn’t call him Shirley.

Over the next few hours, I sat and listened. Through the sake bombs and the awkwardness he poured his heart out over this new girl in his life, and all the hurdles it would take to get her: ruining her friendship with her best friend who he used to hook up with, and possibly ruining a friendship of his own with a buddy that used to date the girl in question. It was a page six scandal in the making, or at least a really awesome Jerry Springer episode. I mean, what was so magical about this one girl that was worth all the drama??.. He continued to lament on and on about how this girl was chill, just “relatable.” The no drama type of girl that “got” him, and loved sports, and didn’t need the nightlife scene.

Wait a frickin' second there, cowboy. Hold your damn horses. He was describing ME.

I was all those things and more back when we used to talk, only he never chased me like this. Never went crazy over me like this. So what was so different about THIS girl?.. As our dinner began to more closely resemble a therapy session with a psychologist, I couldn’t help but feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest. It’s not every day that someone you still have unresolved feelings for tells you they think they found the real thing.. and want to settle down with someone else.
But there it was. The truth. As cold and nasty as the sushi that sat in front of us.

I was the Julia Roberts of my own life. The girl, sitting in front of a boy.. asking him to quit being a moron and see what’s in front of him. My life was one sick romantic comedy. The kind where it’s supposed to be a happy ending, but the girl doesn’t get the guy and she ends up having fun at the reception with her gay friend. The kind where she is supposed to feel happy her best friend ran off with Cameron Diaz, and found true happiness. She was hot back then, anyway.

It was a long and awkward car ride back to his place, as he continued his story, and I did my best to listen objectively. I helped him weigh out the pros and cons of the situation, as it wasn’t exactly the easiest or most rational decision he had made to pursue this girl. But he seemed to think she was worth it.

As I dropped him off at his place, I turned to him and asked him…

“Do you think she can make you happy??.. Do you think she is what you are missing??”

The smile on his face said it all.

“Well then,” I said, “Get r done.”

As I turned to leave, he ran back and knocked on my window, motioning for me to roll it down.

“You know Jenn,” he said, “that’s what I always loved about you. You were like the girls from back home.. simple, laid back, unselfish, blue jeans and baseball hat kinda girl. You’re good people and amazing. Thank you.”

A quick kiss on the forehead.. and he was gone.

Sigh. So goes the curse of the wing girl. I am but the Robin to his Batman. The Boo Boo to his Yogi. The Barney to his Fred. And that’s where the story ends.

My car ride home was significantly less awkward, and tad more defeated, but seeing him finally have some resolve in his life made all my pain seem worth it. Sometimes you really don’t know why certain people come into our lives, or why we play such limited roles in theirs. But at least he felt close enough to me to trust me with his heart, even if he intended to give it to someone else. I may not have gotten the guy, but I gained a friend. So what if I am always the bridesmaid, I’ll catch the bouquet in life sooner or later… right?..

And until then, I can still have fun trying on all the dresses.