Last night, Alex, Mikey and Hamid met me for drinks and dinner at Bungalow 44. As we sat around the bar, I offered to help Hamid think of clubs to hold his 24th birthday party, what with my vast knowledge of the San Francisco straight people night club scene.
Mikey leaned over, “Well where do you want to go for your birthday, Bethy?”
“Beats me. Somewhere awesome.”
“How old are you turning?” Hamid politely asked.
I cringed. “29.”
“Oh my god! You’re 28! Seriously? I had no idea!” He couldn’t get over my advanced age, going on and on and on about how shocked he was that I’ve been alive since, like, the 70’s.
“Okay, we can stop talking about how old I am now.”
The conversation turned to party attendees. I reviewed my list. “You’ve got a lot of guy friends.” Hamid remarked.
Turns out, I do. In fact, I’ve got more guy friends than chicks or gays. Weird.
I smiled. “I love my boys.”
“Any guy that is friends with a girl wants to fuck her.”
“There’s no such thing as platonic friends.”
Alex dove in. “Yeah there is. I’ve got friends that are girls.”
“No way." Hamid sat back. "There’s always sexual tension.”
“Hamid, that’s ridiculous. I’ve got tons of platonic guy friends.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes. I do.”
In circles we went, Hamid expressing his very firm belief that men and women simply can’t be friends.
“Well, WE’RE friends, Hamid. Do you want to fuck me?”
“No. You’re too old.”