I’m writing in response to the ten emails about Ladies Night at TGIFriday’s. Sorry I didn’t respond the first nine times, there was a swarm of angry bees and I couldn’t get a good WiFi signal.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it to TGIFriday’s this week, or your Let’s Get Lit candle party next week—although that one was tempting. Better count me out for BUNCO and Crafts with Giraffes too. (Was the zoo really OK with that?)
In fact, I think it’s time you knew, so I’m just going to say it—I don’t want to be your mom-friend.
I know this may come as a surprise considering our daughters are “besties”, but let’s face it, there is a strong possibility they will hate each other next week, so it’s probably best if we don’t get too attached.
This probably doesn’t happen to you often, as the most popular mom on the PTA, so I feel it’s only fair to explain my thought process.
I don’t like people. You seem sweet, really, you do, but I’m not a people person. I fake it for eight hours a day, but I’m not really invested past that point. I only do that to pay the bills. When it comes to my personal time, I don’t want to interact with people if I don’t have to. I have no problem drinking alone in my sweatpants, sans bra.
I’m not into chit-chat. There I go sounding anti-social again, but it’s true, I can’t stand the pre-packaged questions that seem to surface when I’m in an unknown group of moms. My husband’s career choice and my kids’ athletic abilities seem to be hot topics. Is this not odd to anyone else? We just met five minutes ago, do you really care that my kid hates soccer?
Speaking of soccer…
I don’t care if my kids are involved in activities. I couldn’t help but notice that little Margo attends a different activity every day of the week. That may be your jam, but I can think of no worse hell than dragging my kid from place to place every night, and then ranting about how exhausted I am to a group of my peers. There just aren’t enough hours in the day, huh, Regina? Feel free to cackle obnoxiously after that last statement, I know that’s what’s called for in this situation.
I’ve already got a squad. I know we tell our kids you can never have too many friends, but the fact of the matter is, you don’t really need a ton of friends. I have a small group of close friends who would help me move your body at a moment’s notice—no questions asked. Of course, I mean you no harm, Regina, I’m just trying to illustrate my point.
Even if I wanted to wear pants, or leave my sofa…
I have trust issues. I remember high school, I’ve seen what happens when you put a bunch of women together with different opinions and ideas—the shit-talking starts before breakfast. You probably noticed that I’m a flaming hot mess 90% of the time, but I don’t do drama. The only thing I like to pick apart is a giant pile of chicken wings. If you want to talk about Jessica’s shitty haircut, I’m not your girl.
I’m certainly not against making new friends, but those friendships should happen naturally or not at all.
Friendship should be spontaneous and without effort. When you really hit it off with someone, it’s easy and fun. Being pressured to attend a TGIFriday’s ladies night is my own personal version of hell.
My true friends are the ones who really know me—and love me anyway.
They get my twisted sense of humor, anti-social tendencies, and they have seen me Oprah-cry over a boy. We are honest with each other about everything. If I’m wearing ugly shoes, one of those bitches will tell me, and that is just one of the many reasons I love them.
So, I’m sorry, Regina, I won’t be joining your mom squad; but to be fair, you probably would have hated me anyway.