"I Don't Want To Be Friends" - Lady Gaga (and Mimi Vilmenay)
Alternate Title: Ode to My Ex-Fake Boyfriend
In a previous post I wrote about how in love I was with this guy that I was having a casual no-strings-attached relationship with. We texted each other daily, hourly even, a never ending stream of txt bubbles that read, “You’re funny.”
“No. You’re funny.”
During a drunken night at a SXSW film party we walked around telling anyone within earshot, “We’ve decided that we are BEST FRIENDS.” We kind of were. I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed talking to someone this much, other than when I talk to myself at home in front of the mirror.
Unfortunately, like most women with a working vagina and heart, I started to do the whole, “Hey, I like you, I want you to like me and only me.” But he said, “I don’t see myself marrying you.”
I said, “Well, that’s great actually. Because I don’t want to marry you either and technically my divorce isn’t final. So legally, we can’t.”
But, that’s not what he meant. I found myself asking, “What do you MEAN you don’t want to be in a relationship with a single mom with two kids!?”
I don’t see what the big deal was about being in a REAL relationship as opposed to the fake relationship we had. I just wanted to hold his hand in public and have more sex, that’s all. I wasn’t about to change my facebook status to “In A Relationship” and have that stupid fucking heart show up in my News Feed. (My ex-mother-in-law and I are still friends on facebook and I really didn’t want to have that conversation.) I just wanted to continue to talk about comedy, do drugs recreationally from time to time while eating as many donuts as possible in one sitting, and continue to get naked. I really just wanted to know he liked me too.
But, he DOESN’T!
He just wants to be friends. I quoted Lady Gaga and told him “I don’t want to be friends, I DON’T WANT TO BE FRIENDSSS!” (Because I was caught in a bad romance.)
Below you can see the last time I talk about it at an open mic with NO plan. I have plenty of material gathered from the last year I spent with this guy, and hopefully it will someday be brilliant. Hopefully someday he’ll be sitting on the couch with his regular, normal, non-baby-making girlfriend and he’ll be flipping through the channels, and……”what’s this? Oh, Mimi Vilmenay’s First Comedy Central Special!?” And his girlfriend will look at the TV and say, “How is she single? She’s so beautiful and funny.” And then he’ll say, “blah blah blah.”
Then his girlfriend will get fat and ugly. Anyway, the clip is below. (The best part is the last 8 seconds, when I’m not in the clip at all.)
I love my fake boyfriend because he comes over, we get high and fuck and then go get donuts and he leaves the next morning and I don’t see him again until, whenever.
I love my fake boyfriend because he always wants to watch Arrested Development and the Office. He never wants to watch Tarantino or any of that homo dude shit that I always want to watch that will just give me nightmares anyway.
I love my fake boyfriend because he never compliments me. Like I need it anyway.
I love my fake boyfriend because he says stuff like “Listen, I need to come right now, then we’ll go again.” It boosts my self-esteem, you know?
I love my fake boyfriend because he’s not really my boyfriend and I can still fuck other dudes if I want. (which I do, but I can’t find any that want to fuck because they can all tell that I have a fake boyfriend.)