7 Worst Friends To Go Out With
1. The Leech.
Going out with a leech friend is like spending time with a panhandler you love. We all know that person who conveniently forgets their wallet, has no cash for the cover charge, eats off of others’ plates like it’s school, free lunch and samples everyone’s drinks on a regular basis. “Oh, it’s 2-for-1s tonight? Sweet, I’ll take your freebie! Order Dos XX though, I’m not a big Bud Light fan.” That’s the moocher. They might be a great person, but anyone who asks, wants, needs and takes far too often can grow annoying.
2. The Non-Dancer.
If you’re a non-dancer, join the club! Actually, avoid the club, because you’ll be uncomfortable. I’m guilty of avoiding the dance floor by any means necessary, so I’m well aware of how detrimental a lack of rug-cutting enthusiasm can be to the group’s mood. As a notorious non-dancer, it’s my duty to inform those who do dance that the worst thing you can do is pressure a wallflower. The more attention drawn to our participation, the less likely you are to see so much as a foot tap or head nod from us. I assure you that we’re not out to ruin the energy or good vibes. We’re just trying to save ourselves a significant amount of embarrassment. Really our remaining posted against the wall is doing you a favor.
3. The Over-Dancer.
It’s great that you’re capable of doing all the newest dances, but it’s okay to take a brief intermission. Look, you’re drenched in sweat, making your deodorant work overtime and this isn’t a Pop-N-Lock-A-Thon. I want to chokehold you closer, tiny dancer. Please relax. Choreographing that dance routine on your own time in a less shared environment, and sticking to a reasonable amount of public boogying isn’t the worst concept in the world.
4. The Fight Starter.
If someone is aggressive or physical with a friend, it’s natural to have his or her back. However, if you’re with a person who is wishing and waiting for someone to look at them wrong, step on their new Nikes, or God forbid, brush up against them in a near-capacity, crowded club – it’s a lot easier to not get involved. If you’re seeking trouble, it will find you and I won’t be there to help. Those who start fights expect you to battle valiantly by their side — so when you don’t, they’ll question your loyalty. They’ll say that you showed ‘your true colors’. My theory is that as long as your true colors aren’t black and blue, you’re golden.
5. The High Sexpectations Guy/Girl.
You know the girl or guy who is hell-bent on getting laid tonight. That’s their focus and motivation for being out — to hookup. All you’ll hear about it who he/she wants to bang, how hot so-and-so is, and how desperately they need some physical contact. Realistically it’s not always likely that they’ll succeed, because many go out not actively pursuing a sex-partner whom they just met that night. Just saying, if you want to get some action, go for it, but it’s not the focal point of everyone else’s time out.
6. The Complainer.
It’s too small here. It’s too crowded there. It’s so hot in here. It’s so cold out there. It’s too expensive here. It’s too cheap there. Ew, that place is ghetto. Gross, those people are stuck up. My feet hurt. I’m tired. This DJ sucks. The bathroom line is so long. I hate everything.
These are all valid criticisms and we might all be thinking them, but to verbalize ‘em earns you the badge of a grumbling, nitpicking whiner.
7. The Person Who Refuses To Accept That It’s Over. “
“C’mon y’all – just because it’s 5:15AM and we’ve already been to iHop, that guy’s house for the ‘after party’, which was four drunk dudes smoking hookah and playing Call of Duty, the strip club, and a Chili’s parking lot for the past hour doesn’t mean we have to throw in the towel!”
At some point, typically when the sun begins to rise and last night becomes tomorrow morning, everyone should consider rolling the credits and ending the festivities.
You should follow Thought Catalog on Twitter here.
A | A | A
Even as I write this now I am debating whether or not to erase it all together.
When I say I’m in love with you, I mean I love the story I can tell to my next lover, about my ex-lover, about how beautiful things were, how intense, how storybook, what a couple we were, and how you gradually, inexplicably, painfully, bit by bit, disappeared.
“I used to be afraid of failing at something that really mattered to me, but now I’m more afraid of succeeding at things that don’t matter.”
I was 24 and, while not gay, ever since college I had been getting more attention from gay men than from heterosexual women.