From Clutch–Friends come in all shapes and sizes, and all flavors of crazy, but we love them all the same. The older we get, the smaller and tighter the circle grows, and with good reason, of course. But even once “the crew” has been established, and the girls have proved themselves through thick and thin, there’s always that one friend. The Wild Child. The exception to most of your rules governing friendship. The one who leaves you scratching your chin and shaking your head, but calling her back every week at the same time to meet up for Happy Hour at “the spot.” And she knows exactly where that is, because that’s your girl, after all, but she sure does have her ways. We all know her very well.
We all have that one friend …
1. … Who just has to be the center of attention. Always.
The world stops spinning for just a few precious moments when this friend walks into a room. All conversations come to a screeching halt, all eyes zoom to center – accompanied by dropped jaws – and every other female in the vicinity ceases to exist … or so she’d lead you to believe. For some reason, this friend here demands all the attention, all the time.
It’s a wonder she even has people like you to call her friend, considering the way she boasts and brags about herself. You don’t have to tell her that her outfit is cute or hair is laid, cuz she’ll make sure to point it out first. “Look at my new bagggg!!! Isn’t it everything?!” Not really. But you can’t tell her nothing. And don’t let the girls all be hanging out when a cute stranger walks by and throws a compliment into the air without specifying its recipient. “Hey, beautiful!” Like a pro athlete, she catches it every time. “Oh, thank you!” (flips hair and bats lashes) He looks at her oddly, out the sides of his eyes, and just keeps walking. He was talking to you, after all, but she’d never guess.
Though she’s fun to hang around, you learned a long time ago not to call this particular homegirl when in need of a good listener with valuable advice. She may, in fact, be capable of the latter, but her self-absorbed nature keeps her from even hearing your full story. Every word you utter reminds her of something she’s been through or is currently going through, so the conversation will always shift focus. Inevitably, you will end up hearing her out and nurturing her wounds, while your own go unattended. Indefinitely. That’s your girl, though, and you’ve got her back. Let’s just hope reciprocity isn’t one of your priorities, ’cause ya ain’t gon find it in her.
Signs She’s That Friend:
– You hold back violent, uncontrollable laughter every time she utters the H-word. “I make my h*ters my motivators,” she likes to say. “I’ll pray for ‘em, though.” Girl, bye.
– She calls you at the most inconvenient times to vent, but is always somehow too busy to hear you out.
– She likes to see what everybody else is wearing before she gets dressed. How else will she upstage the girls?
It all starts when she first suggests getting ready at your house. You know? Because it’s “closer to the venue,” or so she says. What’s supposed to be a brief “run up, change, and take a shot before the party” pit stop quite quickly morphs into a tour of your closet and dresser drawers. Against your will, of course.
Soon enough, she’s “ooh”ing and “ahh”ing at all your prized wardrobe possessions, especially the ones with the tags still very much intact. You’re saving those pieces for a special occasion, but what’s more special than a homegirl in need, she assumes. “Ooooh, girl, can I wear your ______? It matches better than mine! I swear I’ll give it right back.” Chile, please. Been there. Heard that. Never saw it again.
You see, she’s a slick one. She always conveniently forgets to give it back at the end of the night, or even better, hits you with the “Lemme wash it for you first.” So kind and considerate, that friend is. *rolls eyes* But don’t you dare let her hold on to it for too long, because soon enough, you won’t even want it back. And that’s the goal of her whole evil scheme. After all, she’ll Instagram, Twitpic, and Facebook about five pictures in the garment, so the whole world now thinks it’s hers. And – oops! – there’s a run in the hem. How convenient.
(Continue reading at Clutch…)