Gal pals bring lots of drama, little sincerity

Kelly Roe Column

I hate girls. Always have. Ever since I was little, the majority of my friends have always been guys, with the occasional girl or two thrown in — the prerequisite being that any such girls must also hate girls.

I have many reasons for disliking most other members of my gender, starting with the hug-shriek greeting that a girl friendship seems to naturally require. We all live within a two-mile radius of each other. I don’t see how it can be geographically possible not to see someone long enough to merit the sort of squealing embraces I see girls giving each other on a daily basis.

Then there’s the crying. I know more than a few girls who cry every single time they drink. Every time. Drinky time is fun time. If you can’t control the drama factor, then maybe drinky time isn’t for you. Nothing kills a buzz like the girl whose mascara is sliding down her face because her boyfriend threw up all over the hotel bathroom and ruined “what was supposed to be the greatest formal of our lives.”

But as annoying as the hugging and crying is, it would still be almost tolerable if it were in any way sincere. That’s the really troubling thing about girls: They can fake anything — feelings, intelligence (or lack thereof), orgasms — as long as it suits their evil purposes.

I could go on and on, but the point is not that most girls are full of suck. That’s a given. What I find really interesting is that I’m not unique among girls for thinking this. True, I stand out slightly because I refuse even to pretend that I like girls. But the fact of the matter is that whether they agree with my reasons or have a list of their own, all girls hate all other girls.

Besides some key physical differences, I think this is the fundamental distinction between guys and girls. When a guy meets another guy, he’ll think something like, “Wonder if this dude likes sports/beer/girls? Bet so. Cool guy.” He’ll stick with this opinion until the new guy turns out to like cheerleading/amaretto sours/little boys instead. Then the first guy will kick the second guy’s ass and forget the second guy ever existed, except when he’s talking about guys whose asses he’s kicked.

When a girl runs into another girl, however, she has one of two thoughts, depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. It’s either, “Oh my God, she is so much prettier than me. I would never be able to squeeze my gigantic thighs into those jeans,” or, “What a slut. If she even comes near me, so help me God, I will bitch slap the makeup right off her trampy face.”

Regardless of which thought she has, the first girl will then shriek and hug the other in a manner that is really only appropriate for twins separated at birth.

And that’s the real problem here. Girls are fake because they all hate each other, and they all hate each other because they are fake. It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m honest enough to admit that I don’t know how to break it. I asked my friends if they had any ideas, but being that they’re all guys, topless mud wrestling was about the extent of their thoughts on the subject.

But ladies, just know that if you go for that tactic, girls will hate you for being a slut. If you don’t, they’ll hate you for being a prude. And so goes the cycle.

Kelly Roe is a McCormick senior. She can be reached at [email protected]