Peer Acquaintances Forever

There comes a point in every peer relationship where I feel the need to point out that, though it may sometimes seem like it, we're not actually friends.

Usually such times occur when the person checks on my well-being, or asks how my weekend was, or some other unnecessarily personal comment that reeks of a lingering hint of concern.

It's adorable.

In a strictly "aww, you're so naive" kind of way.

I have to strongly fight the urge to pat them on their cute, presumably fluffy little head like you would a puppy who just tried to eat a hair tie.

For instance, a couple days ago in choir. A guy who for all intensive purposes we will heretofore refer to as Moob-Man broke one of those "peer acquaintance only" boundaries.

But first, let me preface the situation.

A few nights before, I played Halo with a bunch of guys at one of my friend's houses. I didn't want to go because I thought I would suck, he took the bullet and played on my team because we were already acquainted with each other through theatre and choir, and then I ended up kicking everybody's asses.

Well, not everybody. But not the point. The point is at the end of the night, I definitely fought the head-patting urge.

Back to choir.

I sit down with my drum, he sits down with his drum, I'm planning on sitting in social silence until the director stops arguing with the loud, talkative girl. He decides this would be the opportune moment to ask "So hey, how was the rest of your weekend?"

...

Dawww.

I'm sorry, this is the time for an etiquette intervention. We're not actually friends. Thanks for playing, though!

This is me we're talking about. If I want to be your friend, I'll be your friend. If I haven't talked to you except when trying to avoid an awkward situation by striking up conversation with the person nearest me, that most likely means you will be stuck as a peer acquaintance forever.

Sorry, bud.

That was a mere head-patting example, but there are, however, those who I actually do want to take by the shoulders and speak those exact words to them in my most patient, pitiful voice so that maybe, one day, they can understand.

We're not friends. We... are not friends. Nope. Not us. Me and you, we're just... well, we're not friends. Get it? We're not friends.

My most awkward tutoring student ever decided to tell me as I left into the gale force winds yesterday to "be careful out there, you might blow away."

Umm...what.


Buddy, buddy, buddy... not friends. I tutor you. That's it.


And you're bad at it to boot.

Trop mal, mon petit ami.

Please don't name your stuffed animals after me.