Here’s the thing: I’m actually kind of a bitch. Or an asshole, for those of you who think the word bitch is too sexualized or gender-specific. (Personally, I think a woman who gets called a bitch is usually just acting like a man, but I digress.)
I don’t waste my energy pretending to find you entertaining, smart, or an asset to the world. Sure, I’ll be polite because I’m a person and not completely awful, but I have seen enough in my years to know that I don’t want to waste my time (or anyone else’s, for that matter) with insincerity. There is a finite amount of energy in the world (the only thermodynamics law I pretend to know) why would I want to waste any on someone who won’t cross my mind at the end of the world?
This, dear reader, is the quality I seek most in friends.
With an asshole friend you know exactly where you stand. High school worries of secret feuds are moot – if you piss off an asshole they will tell you how, why, and where. You will accept it. Maybe fight. Apologize. And move on.
Assholes care about people they want to care about. In extreme cases, this means themselves, but in most cases, it means the people they love. When an asshole calls you to see how you’re doing after a breakup, health scare, or shitty day, you can answer honestly because they actually want to hear what you’ll say. “Hi, how are you?” is not a polite greeting, it’s the truth.
The best assholes are funny ones. They know your buttons and they push them. They mock your skills in any number of areas. Remind you that you’re not as cool as you think you are. Put you in your place when you’re wrong. And they know exactly which YouTube videos are the best for your every mood.
So thanks, friends. It’s been a shitty few weeks but I’m laughing. You assholes are really good at that.