In my opinion, Evelyn is making a mistake, but she never listens to me. Remember when we partied with the 15 Irish Boys and she hooked up with that guy after getting lost while totally bombed on rum, tequila and beer? Well, she revealed the next day that she met the guy that night although they had been texting for a week after connecting over the dating website. After having sex in some random person’s back yard while he ‘helped’ her look for her friends, he told her “I’m not really looking for anything serious.” So most of us are thinking that he’s kind of a jerk, right? It gets worse. She was a virgin and she told him so beforehand. Now he seems like an uber jerk, huh? That’s what I’m calling him, UberJerk. Now she’s decided that going from 0 (she hasn’t dated since her abusive ex boyfriend 2 years ago) to 200 in a few days would be appropriate – she decided to be friends with benefits with this guy.

At first I raised my eyebrows but told her to do what made her happy. I applaud any woman who decides to be in charge of her sexuality. She seemed to have everything sorted out – she’s moving to the Midwest in a few weeks and just wants to have some fun with a guy who’s great in bed. Bravo Evelyn! But then she started saying things that had my hackles raised.

If you are a man, prepare to be a little frightened.

Sometimes…ok, some women…no, still not how I want to phrase this. Ummm…when a woman likes a man there are times when she…maybe…a little…pictures the children they might have in theory. Usually she only admits this to her closest friends, but your besties will always speculate along with you. Every woman I know does it. What makes some guys wary about this information is that this isn’t I’ve-been-dating-him-five-months-I-wonder-what-our-kids-will-look-like, this can be as early as the first date, depending on how well you hit it off.

One time I told that fact to The Wiz (after he told me of his major crush on Elle and I knew nothing was going to happen between us) and he told me that guys imagine a woman’s O face when they’re interested. I guess it’s just a difference in priorities in the sexes. Or maybe women don’t picture that because some men have scary or really ridiculous O faces and babies are cute. Whatever.

Regardless, if a woman is solely interested in hooking up with a guy, she should not care what their potential children look like. She should only care about preventing said potential children. So I was chatting with Evelyn about Jarhead while she cooked us dinner.

“He’s a creeper, why the hell did you date him?”

“I cared about him.” I said, rearranging some word magnets on her fridge to make a sweet limerick about dirty sex.

“He was fucking thirteen years older than you!”

“Age is just a number.” I said in a sing-song voice, finally satisfied with my poem.

“Oh my god. Did you picture your future kids?” She said it with a tad too much disgust if you ask me.

“Duh. And no, they weren’t going to be cute. I don’t think we had complimentary looks.” I turned to her, “What difference does it make, we’ve been broken up for over a year.”

“What about Twitch?”

“Hmmm,” I said, thinking back, “Not really. That probably should have been my first indication that I wasn’t interested.”

“No shit. Well, what about HOTTT?”

“Oh hell yes I did. Are you joking? Our kids would have been so adorable.”

“Tiny little soulless ginger kids?” Oh, did I never mention that HOTTT is a ginger? He is. Usually I’m not attracted to that, but I made an exception because the rest of him was…hottt. I usually like brunettes with soft brown eyes. Brown eyes seem so soulful.

“I’m pretty sure my dominant genes would have beaten his ginger recessives into submission.” I jumped up on the kitchen counter and started munching on a piece of broccoli. Why are Evelyn and I always in the kitchen?

“In order to survive, gingers have to be dominant, right? Darwin and all of that.”

“No way, or there would be more natural redheads. I thought random gingers popped up in families and that just screams “recessive”.”

“Screw it, let’s Google it.” I was right, it’s recessive. My mom and I don’t really look alike, she’s fairly pale with blonde straight hair and was always rail thin with virtually no curves until she had kids. I have light tan colored skin and I’m curvy (I had flared hips by the time I was 13 and right now my chest is literally four sizes bigger than hers) with curly dark brown hair.

Aside from our height (Granny, mom and I are the exact same height – 5’3″) and our eyes, we don’t look much alike. Our eyes are shaped exactly the same way and hers are blue with a small ring of light green around the pupil. Mine are brown with a small ring of light green around the pupil as well, although my brown is so dark you can’t see the green unless you gaze into my eyes in the light. Fact: I’ve had ONE boyfriend notice that, the others usually ended up looking further south most of the time. In conclusion, no ginger kids.

So back to the story. Obviously, this is a conversation Evelyn and I have had about men before. Because that’s what women do. I figured she would bring up one of the guys she dated recently and what their kids would look like. Instead, she chose UberJerk.

“UberJerk has dark black hair and blue eyes, he’s really cute. I bet our kids would be adorable.” Note: I’ve seen a pic of UberJerk and he is not cute. Especially not when he is the type that takes advantage of my best friend while she’s drunk.

“Ummm. What?”

“Well, his mouth is kind of wide, but I think it balances his face.”

“No, I mean…why are we comparing his features for potential kids?”

“We assessed HOTTT’s and you aren’t seeing him anymore.”

“Right, but I liked HOTTT. You told me you aren’t interested emotionally in this guy.”

“I’m not.” I looked at her closely. Ah ha! She dropped her eyes away from mine. Damn. Falling for your friends with benefits? Very bad. I questioned her further and she revealed some bad signs of infatuation.

“So after we had sex, I gave him a back massage and-“

“What!?”

“Back massage? It’s where you use your hands to release the tension in someone’s back.”

“I know what it is. Why did he have tension in his back? You were doing all of the work. More importantly – why did you give him a massage?”

“Because I wanted to?”

“That’s just so…girlfriend-y. That’s like cuddling.” At Evelyn’s silence and shifting gaze I felt my eyes widen. “You guys cuddle? How much?”

“I’m guessing the usual amount.”

“Um no. Everyone is different.”

“How much do you cuddle?”

“I’m not really…I mean. Fine, I’m a dude, OK? I like to roll over, spoon and go to sleep. I’m tired and I usually have to get up in the morning. Pretentious Author was fine with that, but Jarhead wanted to have an hour long cuddling session each time. Where you kiss occasionally and talk about stuff. I’m OK with cuddling, I just want it noted that I like to take advantage of opportunities where I can overcome my insomnia. So, how much do you guys cuddle?”

“Holy crap, you call spooning while you sleep cuddling?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I guess a bit. We like to hold each other and I like to give him massages or stroke his chest. He has a really nice chest. So maybe an hour or more?” Well, as long as UberJerk is OK with that, I guess it’s fine.

“Wow, UberJerk must like to cuddle.”

“Well…” Evelyn turned back to the chicken and started poking at it. I waited for her to continue. “Sometimes he does.”

“And sometimes he doesn’t?”

“Not that he’s not willing, just…he says he thinks I’m naive and will get hurt.” I opened my mouth but Evelyn cut me off. “I told him I’m moving in three weeks and I’m not naive.”

“Just because you’re moving doesn’t mean you’re exempt from feelings.”

“Just because I’m sleeping with him doesn’t mean I’ll automatically grow feelings for him.”

“If you’re sure, then fine. I would just hate to see you check out his Facebook when you come home in December and find that he has a girlfriend and you get upset.”

“I know that’s a possibility.”

“Are you going to hook up with him in December if you’re both single?”

“Probably.” I started pulling out utensils while Evelyn served us dinner.

“So you’re going to randomly text this guy when you get home in four months and hope he’s single?”

“Of course not! We’ll talk when I’m in the Midwest.” I felt myself freeze. What? I turned back to face Evelyn.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll talk pretty often over Facebook messages or texts.”

“How often?”

“Daily? Every few days? I don’t know.”

“I thought this was just a 3-week hookup. That sounds more like a relationship.”

“No, not at all.” At my direct gave she grew defensive. “Just because we’ll talk doesn’t mean I’m going to fall for him or something.”

“Let’s think about this logically, shall we?” I started ticking points off using my fingers, “He was your first, you sleep with him on a regular basis, you see him every day, you talk about him constantly, you bought him stuff, you get upset when he doesn’t text you back right away, you expect to continue communicating with him while you’re 1,600 miles away even though he’s ‘just a hookup friend’. YOU LIKE HIM.”

After a short argument about it, we both let it go. I’m convinced she likes him. This probably won’t turn out well for her.

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