What was the right thing to say? Girlfriend situation from way in the past.

In My Humble Opinion
1

Totally mundane and pointless (so why is it in IMHO? Oh, shut up), but this pops into my head for no good reason every once in a while. OK, so this was yonks and yonks ago. We’re talking geological time. I was about 20. I was dating a girl. Let’s call her Amber. She had a friend. The friend was also a girl, but in spite of that, let’s call her Milhouse.

They were as close as sisters. However, there was a bit of an issue. Amber was beautiful. But Milhouse was gobsmackingly drop-dead stunningly gorgeous. She was so pretty that unicorns walked up to her and ate from her hand on a regular basis. Her teeth outshone the sun. Her eyes gave the local wildlife heart attacks. She was banned from the local port, because every time she showed up, her face would launch a thousand ships.

She was kind of hot, is what I’m saying. So, boys were usually a bit smitten with her. Now, as I said, Amber was also beautiful. If Milhouse hadn’t been standing next to her all the time, she would have been turning some heads herself, make no mistake. But these girls were as close as sisters, as I said, or maybe more like cojoined twins. (I mean, metaphorically. Not literally, that would be weird. Oh, you know what I mean.) So Milhouse was always standing flipping right next to her.

Now, much to Amber’s annoyance, the following would invariably happen: Every now and then, Amber would fancy a boy. She would walk up to the boy. Milhouse would be standing next to her. Amber would say hi to the boy. And she would be ignored, because the boy would be staring at Milhouse, with his mouth open and a look on his face like he just had a stroke.

I was dating Amber, though, not Milhouse. Why? Well, lots of reasons. I liked Amber. She was great. We got along. Milhouse was very shy, and we didn’t really have any chemistry. She didn’t really seem to fancy me like that. And who am I kidding: There was a line a mile long outside her house. She had to leave through the bathroom window, wearing a disguise, just to get to work in the morning. I wasn’t getting myself into that. It’s not like I would have had a chance anyway, most likely, even though this was during the strange time of my life when I was a Cool Kid ™. Plus, she may have been asexual. But that’s a different story.

So, whatever. Doesn’t matter, Amber was great, and I adored her. No kind of second choice she, no siree, despite her Milhouse-induced inferiority complex.

Anyway. That was a lengthy introduction, and unfortunately, the payoff isn’t all that interesting. But we’re getting to the question part. Now, Amber had a few odd qualities about her. She was an empath, and had this oracular thing going on. I think I’ve mentioned this before. Just stay with me, OK? Now and then, she would get this odd look on her face, her voice would change, and there would be a brief clap of thunder. That’s when you knew that she was about to tell you something about yourself that was the absolute truth.

This happened with me a few times. One of those times is what I’m talking about here. There was the thunderclap to get my attention, and she looked at me and said:

“You’ll never have sex with Milhouse.”

And I never did. It was totally out of the blue, but it was, of course, the truth. (Oh, and yeah, no: Milhouse wasn’t standing next to Amber during this interaction. It was just Amber and me there. Otherwise, that would have been *really *weird. When I said always standing next to her, I didn’t mean always-always. So, yeah, no. No threesomes or anything going on, either. Sorry.)

Anyway, as I was about 20, this made me feel confused and insecure. I knew that I should probably respond, but I didn’t have a clue what to say. It seemed like one of those things that, if I got it wrong, Amber would be upset, or jealous, or something, and we’d have an argument. If I got it really wrong, there might be a big fight, and she’d dump me. Had I done something wrong? Was I about to do something wrong? Was it some sort of trap? What the heck do you say in that situation?

I ended up not saying anything. Just staring blankly into space for about five minutes. Then Amber whacked me on the head, and we went back to her place. The subject never came up again.

The thing is, though, to this very day, I’m still wondering what the proper response to that would have been. It probably wasn’t staring into space indefinitely, even though it turned out OK. I still have absolutely no idea. Nothing seems to fit.

So. What should I have said? Any ideas? Help my 20 year old self out. He’s not very good at talking to girls.

2

You should have re-affirmed to Amber that she was the one you were interested in.

3

“Neither will you”.
mmm

4

“That’s cool.”

5

“Why would I want to, when I’m with you?”

6

Presumably. Which I was! I just had all kinds of weird permutations of possible conversations going on in my head.

“But you’re the one I like!” “Why? Isn’t Milhouse pretty? Am I prettier than Milhouse?” “Well, she literally has the looks of the goddess Venus, but…” “But what? Why do you like me, then?” “Well, you have a nice personality.” “But I’m not pretty?” “Yes you are.” “But you really want to have sex with Milhouse, right?” “Well, I’d be clinically insane not to consider the possibility, if the opportunity was to arise, but…” “YOU BASTARD!” “That’s not what I meant!”

Of course, that conversation didn’t take place, except in my head. But it seems that it so easily could have.

7

“Works for me. Want to go see a movie?”

8

Obviously the only really accurate answer, would depend on Amber.

That aside, were I your Father, and not trying to cut your hand off with a light saber, I would suggest that a good answer would be to smile and say something light but accurate, such as “whatever you say, gorgeous!” or something else harmlessly flippant.

I know what you mean (I think) about women/young girls who make solemn pronouncements like that, which cause a guy to feel the same way we do when we are carrying a large empty box which blocks our view, through a doorway which catches it on one side, and and causes us to suffer mild abrasions to various uncomfortable nether regions. The REASON why those girls/women catch us up as they do, is that their solemn serious way of speaking (tone), is identical to the tone anyone uses you are being accused of a serious crime. You may THINK of it as though she is experiencing some fugue state, and seeing beyond time and space, but that’s just because the accusation/statement/prediction/whatever makes no sense.

And of course, I would bet that at that time, although you were sold on Amber, that you nevertheless DID have at least a few segments of your body which were voting for Milhouse.

What Amber was accusing you of, or rather what she had already CONVICTED you of, was hanging around with her, and playing nice, in at least a partial hope of nailing Milhouse. Chances are, since it was a conviciton, that she wouldn’t have believed ANY denial you managed, but stammering (even figuratively by your silence) was as good as a total confession.

Mostly though, she sounds like the kind of woman/girl with whom you had lost all hope of pleasing, the moment you continued to exist, following the statement.

9

“Of course not. I prefer pretty girls. Like you.”

10

you mean - again, right?

11

I didn’t need to read a word of the OP.

With women, there Is No Right Thing To Say.

12

“So both of you is out of the question also?”

13

Or, alternatively, you should have upped the mind game she was playing with you and said something like, “I agree, but what do you think my chances are with Lynn?”

There is really no reason to put up with this kind of head-fuckery where you are supposed to guess at some hypothetical correct response to an unprovoked implied accusation. You’re going to lose that game however you play it because it is rigged against you.

Stranger

14

My default answer to pretty much any loaded question from a woman is, “There does not exist a world where I answer that question”.

Or something to that effect anyway, you don’t have to answer these questions if you turn it back to them by immediately highlighting that it is a loaded question with no good answer.

15

“Why are you envisioning me and her having sex? Pervert.”

16

“I know. I’m into guys.”

17

Ah! Interesting observation. You may be on to something there. I’m sticking a pin in that. And I was feeling guilty, a bit, rightly or wrongly, like I had been caught in some kind of cookie jar.

Well, obviously. That’s the thing. But that’s hardly *my *fault, right? I mean, it’s like there was this field in our home town. Like a magnetic field, except that it was a Milhouse field. And every penis in town was a like a compass needle. Right? If you could have put sensors on them and scienced this, you would have been able to plot the path of Milhouse through the town on any given day, as every penis would point at her as she walked by.

So, I couldn’t exactly lie and say: “You’re prettier than Milhouse.” 'Cause it would be a blatant lie. But saying “Your friend is the hottest thing since quark-gluon plasma, but I still fancy you more” still doesn’t seem right. It was true! But how to communicate that, without messing it up?

18

Actually, come to think of it, the more interesting aspect of this is that there are so many possible wrong things I could have said, and I was desperately trying to avoid blurting one out. Maybe we could make the thread about that instead.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about it. But I am now!”
“Damn it, I was hoping for a threesome.”
“That’s OK. But could we arrange something where I watch you two going at it?”

19

When a person you’re interested in says something, and you feel the need to respond, but don’t know what to say, a good general-purpose default is “You’re right.”. Nobody ever argues with being told they’re right.

20

So there’s no right answer? I wasn’t guilty, though, of hanging around with her just to nail Milhouse. It’s hardly my fault that Milhouse existed. But even so, maybe I really was guilty of some kind of involuntary mental adultery. Wait. Why does it always end up being *my *fault?

The thing is, though, whatever she sounds like, Amber properly, really wasn’t that kind of woman/girl, and it didn’t turn out like that. I don’t think it was mind-gaming or brain-fuckery on her part. Well, maybe it was in that moment. But it didn’t become a problem. We were together for a proper while, and it was good. The eventual breakup wasn’t even a bad one, unusually for me. The hypothetical fight never materialized.

She was a smart cookie, that Amber was. Well, still is, presumably. I think she understood my sub-optimality in some areas. And just sort of lived with it. She seemed to like me, for the most part. Maybe I had some good sides. But anyway, now I’m digressing.