Now back in school for summer classes, I'm sitting in the back of the classroom, the butt of my professor's jokes, the horrible victim of being heard mid-sentence with something that could easily be taken out of context. Let's just say some of my new peers may think I'm a crossdresser. Let's also just forget that and move on.
I'm taking notes in the back next to a classmate who, though I don't know all too well, I get along with quite smoothly. We're exchanging quiet dialogue on and off throughout class, entertaining ourselves over the numerous dead spots that come with a three-hour lecture course. At one point she informs me that she's heading straight to the new Star Wars movie after class, a movie I have no desire seeing whatsoever. Actually, I can't remember the last time I was genuinely intrigued about a movie premiere (has yet to happen in 2005). She ignores my problem and goes on with her story anyway, about her slight anxiety with having to walk through the movie theater parking lot alone at night. She interrupts her own thought with a few words that stuck with me: "When you get to know me better, you'll see how much of a worrier I am."
When you get to know me better. Not if, indicating that maybe we'll get to know each other better, but rather when, as if she were stating fact. When you get to know me better. It's an assumption that I will get to know her better. She will get to know me better. We'll become friends. When you get to know me better. It's inevitable, right? After all, barring an unprecedented move where a student moves seats after the first week of classes, we'll be sitting next to each other an average of 6 hours a week. She's easy to talk to, very nice, and with our common interests, we'll have plenty to talk about. When you get to know me better. I have a future friend.
(And yes, I realize I'm talking about a she, and no, I don't forsee anything beyond a friendship, and yes, I'm naive to think nobody will develop a little crush, and yes, she's attractive, and yes, I'm really only looking for a friendship here, and no, I'm not shitting you.)
I look around the classroom and see other friends of mine dispersed in the room, and I'm not sitting by them. I'm next to a different person, switching it up, something I quite frequently do. When it comes to making friends, I'm both a chameleon and a drifter: a chamleon in the sense that it's easy for me to befriend many different types of people, and a drifter in the sense that I often trade off who I spend a great deal of time with. But I think the word friend is thrown around too liberally at times. I have friends, and I have good friends. For me, good friends are more long-term, multi-faceted, and unique relationships. My friends, as horrible as this may sound, can be replaced. My good friends are indispensable. If you're questioning whether or not you're a good friend of mine, the answer's simple: you're not. My good friends don't have to question how I feel about them.
One of my least favorite scenarios is the one where I realize that a mere acquaintance has been misinterpreted as being a friend. We've all been there. It typically happens when you spend lots of time with a group of people, usually in a particular social situation. Eventually for some reason, you're put in the position where you spend one-on-one time with one of them; it's almost always inadvertently, like your other buddies suck and cancel meeting up at the sports bar at the last minute because they have a paper due in 16 hours. Without the mediating group, your conversation with this person is quite awkward, and you realize you've really got nothing with this person if you don't have the other people. You've really only known that person through situation, don't know the actual person, and don't find reason to advance the friendship. It was a mirage of a friendship to begin with.
I couldn't care less (notice I actually used the phrase correctly) about those "associations". This is why I tend to stay out of groups and prefer to flock from friend to friend. I don't have much use for acquaintances that only fill one role. Why have a drinking buddy? Why not go drinking with a genuine friend instead? Why not go drink with someone who, if I suddenly get into deep-thinking mode, will stop and share a heart-felt conversation instead of limiting myself in what I can comfortably do with my acquaintance of the night? Versatility is vital to me in a friendship. I get bored easily. Each of my true friendships are unique, unlike the others, and offer something intangible I couldn't get from other people.
I'm an excellent good friend, the type of good friend people consciously appreciate, but am not as great a (just regular) friend. My nomadic ways when it comes to spending time with friends has probably inadvertently hurt a few people along the way. I mean nothing by it. It's just that there are so many people out there, and I often find something I like in almost everyone. No matter our background, color, or personality, we've all got redeeming qualities, and I'm sure we could find ways to have a good time and enjoy each other's company. I'm easy to get along with and easily get along. When you get to know me better, you'll agree. When you get to know me better.
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