The Friend zone. Literally every virile man cringes at the mere mention of the word. It invokes images akin to purgatory in the mind of the average guy. Imagine starving yourself for an entire week just so that you could take this girl you have taken a liking to out for dinner in a quiet, up-class hotel in town, only to get a three seconds goodnight hug from her at the end of the day? You might as well jump into the Crocodile infested Tana.
Being put in the friend zone has more or less the same effect as walking by those kuku Porno shops in town at lunch time, on a hot day in the middle of January. Your innards are shriveled with hunger and your pockets seem to be competing stiffly with those of the beggar by the road side; only that chances are he might actually have more money than you. Your hungry, but you can only feed with your eyes. Your pockets won’t let you prosper. That’s exactly what the friend-zone’s like. You can see, but you can’t touch. You become reduced to a caged bird. Torture
This sort of dread is not justifiable. It is better for someone to out-rightly deny you their cake rather than give you some impression that they would share it only for them to end up hogging the whole damn cake on their own; or even worse, share it with someone totally different. Any normal human being will feel bitter. . . One would rather a solid “No” right from the start than to have their hopes dashed.
“Ladies complain that they can’t find a good partner yet they have locked all the nice men in the friend zone.” The statement (picked somewhere on the internet social forums) couldn’t be more accurate.
We ladies have the tendency of putting the ‘nice men’ in the friend zone, opting instead for jerks that have nothing feasible to offer.
Think of that male classmate that brave the cold to download for your favorite series, accompany you on long window shopping trips on hot Saturday afternoons without a single complaint. He’d take time to help you do your assignment; book you a seat in class and even photocopy for you notes in case you fail to show up altogether. The guy would surprise you with dinner at Trattoria and proceed to get you some awesome cake on your birthday. He’d make you feel like the little princess you’ve always secretly imagined yourself to be. You’d think such a guy will be rewarded for his efforts
Sadly, the chap will be sent for a “thaaaaaaaanks dear, that was the best birthday gift ever” text as the lady makes her way to her boyfriend’s room for some birthday romping. Mind you the asshole of a boyfriend s only posted a ‘happy birthday bae’ on her Facebook wall. Such is life. It is as if some snorty sorcery cast a spell the female species making them blind to the efforts of affectionate men.
We tend to think that once we allow ourselves to get into a relationship with a nice guy, something might go eerily wrong at some point and the man would drift away. Thus, to prevent losing him, the man is swiftly ushered into the friend zone where he’d have no reason to leave in the first place. The good man becomes your prisoner by affection.
The whole idea is illogical, but so is everything when it comes to womenfolk. Trying to understand why women hesitate to date the good guys is just a-chasing after the wind. Perhaps men should indeed be jerks so that women would surrender their cookie jars and honey pots easier than you can peel a banana, then later on weep bitterly about how they got used. Why be nice when all you will end up with is a front row seat in the Friend zone?? What good is that?
I blame women for their misfortunes when it comes to failed relationships, there is no such thing as ‘all the good guys are taken”. Peep into the friend ; you’ll find Mr. right staring back at you .