You meet a cool guy at a gathering of mutual friends. You have a great conversation. You say, hey, we should hang out some time and play board games or whatever. They say hell yeah, that would be fun.
And then you never fucking see that person again in your life.
It’s hard trying to be friends with people. It wasn’t always this way. Is it a cost of our technology connecting us at all times that suddenly finding a real connection has become impossible? Why is it so hard to get people to show up to a fucking dinner party?
The easy answer gets thrown around a lot. “fucking millennials, can’t commit to anything”.
Which is true.
Your friends will all say, “sure, maybe I’ll come to that. Who else is going, and is it OK if I show up late and/or not at all?”
Like, fuck you dude. For real.
“Hey, I know you’re trying to reach out to me and be my friend and all that, but, like, I’m gonna take a nap instead of hanging out with you because I would rather stay up until 1:30 AM looking at memes on Instagram than go to bed and accept the fact that I have to live my piece of shit life for another day when I wake up in the morning”
Is that the reason? Do all millennials just hate their fucking existence? Are all my friends suffering from acute depression and crippling social anxiety? Or are they all just giant fuckwits who are too god damn lazy to put on their going-out pants?
I don’t know.
What I do know is that we have a big fucking problem. We have an entire generation of people whose social lives are absolute dogshit. We text and tweet and whatever the fuck else. We do it all day long and by the end of it we’ve forgotten what it feels like to look another human in the face and say words out of our mouths.
We’re living through an epidemic of anti-social apathy.
There is no cure. We can never be more compelling than the compulsion towards indifference. I can never be more appealing than the allure of apathetic indolence.
So I accept it. And I decide that I’ll have fun regardless of whether anyone shows up.
I’m the only one who needs to show up for me to have a good time.
Even if I did cook enough fucking brisket and mashed potatoes for 10 fucking people.