{"id":22520,"date":"2014-02-26T10:19:18","date_gmt":"2014-02-26T15:19:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/?p=22520"},"modified":"2014-02-26T10:19:18","modified_gmt":"2014-02-26T15:19:18","slug":"that-friend-zone-bullshit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/2014\/02\/26\/that-friend-zone-bullshit\/","title":{"rendered":"That “Friend Zone” Bullshit"},"content":{"rendered":"

Facebook can be pretty awesome but as I’ve noted in the past it can also be a hive of scum and villainy and, moreso than Twitter, you can really find out which ones of your fake-and-or-real friends are racist or sexist or shitclumps of some other shape. And recently I saw one person kind of go on and on about the “friend zone,” that most toxic and passive-aggressive of male memes that begins in high school and often enough doesn’t get disproven — and this person was trying to\u00a0prove<\/em> that it was real, as if this were some kind of scientific study into the idea, as if he were on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, hiding in the weeds while watching the “friend zone” phenomenon manifest itself, provably. It was, of course, an argument positively\u00a0choking<\/em> on its own horseshit. I didn’t engage, I just clicked “unfriend.” Because, really, ew.<\/p>\n

I thought, well, I’ll write a post about the friend zone, but I realized that my favorite most-wonderfully-horrible anti-hero, Miriam Black, already said it (albeit in a way more venomous than I would normally convey, as\u00a0that’s how she rolls<\/em>). Further, I am not averse to a tiny bit of self-promotion when the time comes (my shame sensors were destroyed in the war), and so I thought I’d quote a little bit from Miriam’s most recent adventure,\u00a0The Cormorant<\/span><\/a><\/strong>, where she deals with this, erm, “friend zone issue” in that Very Miriam Way.<\/p>\n

So, here’s a snippet from the book.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

\u201cI got you a job!\u201d Jace blurts.<\/p>\n

Miriam turns. Makes a poopy face. \u201cMe and jobs don\u2019t play well together. My last real job kind of ended with a shooting. And a stabbing, come to think of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t mean that <\/em>kind of job\u2013\u201d He fishes in the pockets of his flannel surrender-pants, pulls out a folded up piece of paper: the world\u2019s most boring origami. He begins to unfold it. \u201cI ran a Craigslist ad\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI definitely do not want whatever this job is. Particularly if it has the word \u2018hand\u2019 or \u2018rim\u2019 preceding it\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, wait, shut up for a second. A couple months back I put up an ad for your\u2026 particular talents, the psychic death<\/em> thing, and for a while I mostly just got a bunch of trolls who thought I was a pimp\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like where this is going.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut last week I got this email.\u201d<\/p>\n

He thrusts the unfolded paper at her. Like a beaming toddler proud of his dirty diaper.<\/p>\n

She grabs it. Scowls. Reads.<\/p>\n

Her gaze suctions onto a very big number in the middle of the email.<\/p>\n

$5000.<\/p>\n

\u201cFive grand,\u201d she says, looking up. \u201cThis guy wants to pay me five fucking grand to tell him how he\u2019s going to die?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jace nods, grinning ear to ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure he doesn\u2019t think this is code for sex?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026 I called him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou called him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought he might think it was about sex, so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd it\u2019s not about sex.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, he\u2019s some rich guy in Florida. A little obsessed with his own\u2026\u201d Jace flutters his fingers in the air, a gesture he makes when he\u2019s trying to think of a word. \u201cDemise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFive grand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRich nutball.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn Florida.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApparently.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat means I need to get to Florida.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shrugs. \u201cWell. Yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCall him.\u201d She snaps her fingers. \u201cSet it up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOK,\u201d he says. But he just stands there. Staring at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat-what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re looking at me,” she says.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think it\u2019s OK to look at you. You can look at me, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am<\/em> looking at you looking at me, and at this point I\u2019m starting to wonder what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shifts nervously from foot to foot. \u201cI just thought you could say, you know\u2026 thank you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Well.\u201d Miriam clears her throat, loosens some of that tobacco mucus that nests in her vocal cords. \u201cThank you, Jace. By the way, I hate that name. Jace<\/em>. Jason \u2013 Jason is a good name. Or Jay. I like Jay. It\u2019s like a bird. I like birds. Mostly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you like me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI like you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, sweet Christ on a crumbcake, really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally what? We\u2019ve known each other for a year now and we\u2019ve kind of skirted around each other and flirted\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did not flirt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were flirting,\u201d he says, nodding, smirking. \u201cSometimes people flirt and they don\u2019t even know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

She narrows her eyes. \u201cNnnyeah<\/em>, I think I\u2019d know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re leaving soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty much now-ish.\u201d<\/p>\n

He reaches out. Takes her hand. \u201cThat bed looks pretty comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n

She shoves him backward. Not hard enough to crack his skull against the doorframe, but enough to get the message across.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d he says, genuinely stung. \u201cOw.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank your stars and garters I didn\u2019t perform dentistry using your asshole as the entry point.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighs. \u201cFriend-zoned again. Nice guys finish last.\u201d<\/p>\n

The temperature in her mental thermometer pops the glass. \u201cWhat did you just say? Are you seriously pulling that nice-guy friend-zone<\/em> crap? You little turd, how\u2019s that supposed to make somebody feel? That my friendship is just a way station to my pussy? Is that what my companionship is worth to you, Jace?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not like that. I just thought\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou thought what? That because you\u2019re a nice guy, my panties will just drop because you deserve<\/em> to have my thighs around your ears? Fuck you, dude. Being a nice person is a thing you just do, not a price you pay for poonani. I\u2019m not a tollbooth. A kind word and a favor don\u2019t mean I owe you naked fun time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now he\u2019s mad. Brow stitched. Lip curled. \u201cOh, like you\u2019re<\/em> a nice person? Please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not! I\u2019m not nice. And this is not news, dude. I\u2019d rather be a cranky bitch who lets you know what she\u2019s thinking than some passive-aggressive dick-weasel who thinks friendship with a girl is secondary to her putting out. You wanted to fuck me? You shoulda just said so. I would\u2019ve at least respected that, and we wouldn\u2019t have to do this boo-hoo woe-is-me pissy-pants guilt-fest.\u201d<\/p>\n

She throws on her jacket and snatches the email out of his hand and slings the bag over her shoulder. A hard elbow to the gut leaves him bent over and oof<\/em>-ing.<\/p>\n

Miriam heads to the door.<\/p>\n

He trails after like a bad smell.<\/p>\n

Taevon and Cherie watch, goggle-eyed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Jace says, rubbing his stomach.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are<\/em> sorry,\u201d she says, throwing open the door to the hallway.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a dick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA tiny dick. An insignificant dick. Positively microbial<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I call you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you\u2026 No<\/em>, you can\u2019t call me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you have the same phone if I wanted to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to throw it in a bag and burn it.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Indiebound<\/span><\/a> \/ Amazon<\/span><\/a> \/ B&N<\/span><\/a> \/ Robot Trading Company<\/span><\/a> \/ Add on Goodreads<\/span><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Miriam Black knows how you’re going to die.<\/em><\/p>\n

All it takes is a touch — a little\u00a0skin-to-skin\u00a0action.<\/em><\/p>\n

Now someone — some rich asshole from Florida — wants to pay her so he can find out how he’s going to die. But when she touches him, she receives a message sent back through time and written in blood:\u00a0HELLO, MIRIAM.\u00a0<\/strong>It’s a taunt, a warning, and the start of a dangerous and deadly game for everybody’s favorite carcinogenic psychic, Miriam Black.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Facebook can be pretty awesome but as I’ve noted in the past it can also be a hive of scum and villainy and, moreso than Twitter, you can really find out which ones of your fake-and-or-real friends are racist or sexist or shitclumps of some other shape. And recently I saw one person kind of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-22520","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"hentry","6":"category-theramble","8":"no-featured-image"},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pv7MR-5Re","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22520","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22520"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22520\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22531,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22520\/revisions\/22531"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22520"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22520"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/terribleminds.com\/ramble\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22520"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}