guy-friends and boy-friends

I could use a few good men. Don’t mistake me; I’m not greedy—one or two would be just fine, I don’t need a whole platoon.

But I’d take one if you're offering…

Anyway, what on earth prompted this declaration? Lonely singleness rearing its maudlin head? No, not really. I ride the highs and lows of being single just like anyone else, but today equanimity dominates my thoughts of my love life (or lack thereof). Which is good for you—I’m not quite so pleasant to be around on the days I go around singing "I am a Rock, I am an Island" with Art and Paul. But I digress.

I’d like a few more man-friends in my repertoire. I have a few wonderful fellas, but most of them are married and so are not always available for the services I require. Case in point: I can ask a married man to come over and help me cut firewood, but I cannot ask him to be my date to a wedding—even if there’s going to be a kickin’ band that we would both enjoy. It just ain’t right, Myrtle.

There are a lot of varied opinions concerning the true feasibility of coed friendships. Some say that it can never work, that sexual attraction and romance will always interfere. Others believe that coed friendships are completely natural and are possible even after marriage. I’ve read that being "best friends" with a member of the opposite sex is a recipe for disaster unless you marry him. Then I turn to another book, and lo! A woman has a healthy, fulfilling, twenty-years-and-counting friendship with a man who, at some point, married another woman with no adverse effects.

Well, here’s what I think: I like to hike and climb and fish and play tackle football. And I’m very tired of going stag to weddings and swing dances and beach parties. I want to be able to ask a guy to accompany me without him automatically thinking I have romantic intentions. I want to be able to knock a guy down and land on him without him assuming I’m being flirtatious.

I fancy that I never presume a guy has romantic intentions toward me unless he explicitly conveys them. (That may be asking too much, but I am the queen of social oblivion and must occasionally be whapped the head to realize that something’s going on. This has its pros and cons—but that’s a story for another day.) And this is a trust issue. I trust that the guys I hang out with realize that I am counting on them to be honest with me. This can work very well.

Case in point: coed head and back massages may seem to be an automatic no-no. However if, as my case was, the gentleman and I had complete understanding of the platonic nature of our relationship, and if the setting is appropriately public, there is no problem. Nothing de-stresses like a good head massage. Would I ask a married man for one? Of course not—unless we were in the presence of his wife and formed a three-person massage train. Mmm. Arrrr. And if I broached the idea of a coed massage with a guy friend who was not comfortable with that—well, I sure hope he’d tell me, before I started purring! It’d save us both a lot of grief.

Would I have a coed sleepover? Umm…yes, in certain conditions. Three adults (and a large dog) in a small tent? Absolutely. If it were just one guy and me? No. I’m not stupidly ignorant of temptation.

I love outdoor activities, and oftentimes I have a hard time finding girl friends with the same interests. Would I spend an entire afternoon and evening in a secluded location, fishing, with a guy engaged to one of my best friends—who was out of town at the time? Yep. Did that. Would I do it with someone with whom the relationship was not absolutely and clearly platonically defined? No way.

Looking back on the fishing thing, I realized that outside appearances may have seemed a little odd—especially considering that we didn’t catch much the first day, and went out again for several hours the next morning. Alone. But outside appearances mean little to me when those inside the situation—me, him, my girl friend—know exactly what is happening and why. And in this case, we all got to eat some fresh fish.

Of course, this carefree approach to coed friendship is not perfect. I’m a fairly physical person; I enjoy roughhousing more than most of my girl friends, and I am occasionally not aware that my coed physicality is interpreted as inappropriate or even annoying. I’ve made mistakes in the past, and feelings have been hurt, but I think having guys to hang out with is worth the risk. And there are risks in any relationship—coed or not.

And to be fair to myself—I don’t limit my physical contact to the guys. And I don’t smack my guy friends on the bum, either, as per the occasionally-revived antics left over from college dorm days. I’m a little nuts, but I’m not that stupid. Most of the time.