One of the hardest things about dating, aside from making time for someone else, being responsible for that person’s feeling, and sharing your life with them, is answering the question, “WHAT ARE WE?!??!”
If you’ve been seeing/dating/hanging out/talking/really good friending that person long enough, chances are you’ve probably reached the point of social acknowledgement. Friends ask way too many questions, like “Is that your girlfriend?” or “Who was that you were mouth kissing in public?” Real turn-offs this early in the game, and they all relate to that dreaded process of labeling relationships. What do you do? This is going to be awkward. So let’s get through it together.
Hey, who are you playing shoulder tango with over there?
When your friends have probing questions, we’ve got answers…literally we have a treasure trove of answers that we cycle through until one sounds right:
Q: “So really, who is that you were mouth kissing in public over there? Is she your girlfriend?”
A: Tony, Laura, meet my dog whisperer. Puppy’s outside.
A: Hey this is my personal sex trainer. Just meeting to get in a quick toning session. No, not personal trainer. Personal SEX trainer. Kegel muscles. See you guys later.
A: Hey guys sorry, I gotta go. She’s my exorcist. Pesky evil spirits.
A: Who’s this? This is my best friend from 1st grade! We just ran into each other on the playground again!
A: Heyyy-this is my housecleaner. Silly me, I keep the windex in my pocket. She’s just coming to pick it up.
A: Gotta scram- my personal Crystal talisman buyer is here. To cleanse my chakras.
A: Oh that girl? No not my GIRLFRIEND. She’s a girl that’s my friend. I don’t even really know if you could call us friends—call us people who know each other. Yea, my girlquaintance is coming over soon. You know, I don’t even know if she’s a girl. Haha okay it’s here…are you a girl? My friends are dying to know.
How to Treat a Lady provides sensual advice every Friday. Brought to you by KK & Tien of Ladiez Home Journal, who both solemnly swear to No Dumb Girl Crap.