Friend or Fail
So, the other day I thought I made a friend.
We exchanged numbers.
I felt good.
This was a step in the right direction.
I wasn't socially awkward or defective.
I held my shit together.
I got her number. I gave her mind.
I made a friend.
Wrong.
I was heading into the building that Melfi works out of when a girl outside the building asked me what the time was. I told her the time and she asked if I was going inside. I told her yes. I didn't seem any reason to lie. She told me it was her first time there and ranted about her old shrink and how she didn't have her meds and was to see somewhere here to get them. I'd known the same struggle, so I reached out in sympathy. "They did that to me too. When I first transferred here, they'd fucked up a tonne of my stuff. It doesn't matter anyway, they always do their own assessments, intake forms, everything. And when you actually get in to see then, they have more questions and they take notes like you're some kind of an experiment." "Well, I'm late anyway." She laughed, blowing a smoke ring. "Does it really matter here?" "No, they're never on time here. Once, I had to wait fucking 45 minutes. By the time Melfi, my therapist, came out to get me I'd already said all I had to say to one of the rubber plants in the waiting room. It wasn't much different than talking to her actually." We exchanged names and headed into the building together. "I like you. What do you do?" "Oh, I'm a writer. I've written 7 books and I run a blog and I do other things. You?" "I don't work. I get benefits." "Oh." "You wanna hang out som time? Text me or something. What's your number? We should get together this weekend!"
I fumbled with my phone as I gave it to her and told her to put her number in it, as I was shit with them. She disappeared behind the door to the left with a smile after she gave me back my phone. I told her I'd text her so that she could have mine. I went through the door on the right, some kind of balloon filled with happiness with inflating inside me. I, the socially demented creature, who'd failed to make a casual friend throughout its entire life has just made a friend. I couldn't contain my enthusiasm and I told Melfi about it. "I just made a new friend! Right there in the waiting room. We exchanged numbers and we're probably going to hang out this weekend." Melfi seemed impressed. (I'm not going to mention this fiasco to her. This will only be another nail in my cross.)
I ran into her as I was leaving. She was fuming they didn't give her the drugs that they wanted. We stood around and talked about bullshit policies and other shit. I actually felt social. I told her that I had to go but that I'd text her to see what was up and that we'd so something over the weekend.
I ran into her as I was leaving. She was fuming they didn't give her the drugs that they wanted. We stood around and talked about bullshit policies and other shit. I actually felt social. I told her that I had to go but that I'd text her to see what was up and that we'd so something over the weekend.
That was midday on Wednesday. I texted her. She didn't reply.
She seemed so keen to be my friend.
I guess not.
I sat waiting, like a fucking retard, hoping that someone actually wanted something to do with me.
It was like school all over again. A giant cocktease. I bet she and her boyfriend, friend whatever she left with had a great laugh at my expense. Shit. She has my number. Now I have to change it. I don't need hateful messages or Christ knows what else being sent to me. The last time this happened, I was sent cock pictures and got death threats. I should have known this was going to end badly. Now I'm sitting here, alone Saturday night feeling like a child no one wants all over again. I want to get drunk so badly. That's the best thing about being an adult. You can get fucked up off your face and no one can say anything to you about it. And then Melfi wonders why I don't wanna go outside and make friends. Seriously?
And to think I had some study in interpersonal communications in one of my psychology courses. Fat lot of help that did me. Maybe I should just do myself a favour and never try again.
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