The world would be a better place without certain people; for example assholes. Yet they seem to be everywhere – even in bed with one of my friends.
“What a bloody asshole!“ That was the only thing I could think of in response to the story my friend had just told me over a cup of coffee at Café Noir. In order to understand my coarse outburst, here’s the deal: Roughly two years ago my friend reunited with a former classmate through mutual acquaintances. In the meantime, he had virtually transformed from pale, nerdy Peter Parker to a ripped superhero. She was immediately drawn to him but he behaved like a total douche towards her. The bigger her surprise when he called her a few days later. He could absolutely not recall treating her badly and also she had her doubts whether he actually had done so, since he was being nothing but charming on the phone.
During the following get-togethers there was no sign of unfriendliness from his side; on the contrary! Their first date was simply perfect and lasted incredible sixteen hour. With every reencounter her heart beat faster. “He’s the one!“ she was convinced. Unlike with the guys before him, she didn’t have to run after this one; it was mostly him who got in touch first. No wonder she thought she wasn’t the only one with butterflies in her stomach. Until, during a cozy movie night, he casually proclaimed: “Listen, this won’t work out!”
Boom! That hit home! My friend did the only right thing there is to do in such a situation and kicked his sorry ass out. After two tubs of Häagen Dazs, half a box of Kleenex and three and a half hours of “Gone with the Wind”, she decided she had shed enough tears and wrote him off. At least for two months she did – because out of the blue he started calling again. He missed her, he claimed. Some people – unfortunately my friend is one of them – don’t recognize a pig even when it’s standing right in front of them, oinking and squeaking. So the naïve girl received him back with open arms, even if their relationship was based on friendship only. But a grade A asshole doesn’t care much for friendship. Once they ended up at Hive club – just the two of them – and he saw to it that her glass was always full and the barkeeper kept those Tequila shots coming.
When her surroundings had turned into blurry shapes, he decided he had gotten her drunk enough and went on to the next step of his cunning asshole-master-plan: He kissed her. He probably wouldn’t even have had to get her sloshed, since against all reason she still had feelings for him. But a professional asshole always wants to make sure. Of course it ended like most drunken club stories in bed. The next morning, she could hardly believe her luck; especially since he didn’t, as I and the majority of the readers might have expected, urge her to grab her things and get going. No, to cuddle was what he wanted, and to talk, and to kiss and the whole devoted-boyfriend-program. She left his apartment a few hours later feeling blissed. Her only wish: that he would text her. A single, short message from him and she would have known that he was serious about her. Sunday night her phone vibrated. A text message from him! But when she read it, her face instantly went pale. „Just so you know, last night the condom broke.“
That was the last time she had ever heard from him. Fortunately, the pregnancy test showed a negative result. This way the world is spared from a potential mini-asshole. The state my friend is in is understandably enough negative as well. “At least I learned my lesson! Never am I falling for an asshole again!” Let’s hope so! Because the stories I get to hear are somehow always the same; although all the naïve girls out there deserve an honest, sincere man. “But nice guys mostly aren’t as good-looking!” my friend objected. Well…