Not friends.

“Tonight let’s be lovers…and tomorrow we’ll go back to being friends.”

Sorry Dave. While I fancy your rock band and appreciate the length you went to in order to solicit platonic sex from your besties, I simply cannot endorse these lyrics. (Sorry, male friends.) But I just do not think it is wise to play Mario Kart with your guy pal one night and doctor the next, unless you want your nipples handled like joysticks and a guaranteed disappointment.

If you’re loose with your definition of “friend,” say “I love you” to each of your hall mates, and blast mass text messages like it’s your job, then you will undoubtedly disagree. After all, what’s wrong with a little hanky panky from your drinking buddy next door? However, to me “friend” has a very sacred and categorical meaning. The fuzzy area surrounding is reserved for titles like “acquaintance” “buddy” or “pal.” Not “late night booty partner.” Therefore, to hook up with a friend by my definition is inherently incongruous and somewhat fraudulent. A truly, strictly platonic relationship never goes temporarily sexual. The beauty of friendship is that it is pure, transparent and resolute. To take things carnal is not only unnatural and um, awkward, but potentially blasphemous.

For those “friends with benefits” enthusiasts ready to Tonya Harding my cankles, relax. I am not judging you for giving your dude friend a ride to Pleasuretown. I’m just saying real friends don’t let each other shack up at the Howard Johnson…. or in your lofted twin XL. Read More »