There’s an article in the current issue of GQ about 24-hour bromances. The story is called “Warning: This New Friendship Will Self-Destruct In 24 Hours,” and it is just So. On. Point.
How have I not written about this yet? Probably because I seem to have given up on the 24-hour friendship. In my yearning for new pals, I took it upon myself to try and turn every 24-hour pal into a lifelong one. I got phone numbers, I followed up. But now I’ve been thinking: Maybe, sometimes, a 24-hour friendship is fine. Good, even. Maybe it’s precious in its own way, and thrives best in the context of your meeting place. A wedding. A vacation tour group. A work conference. Maybe trying to take it out of its natural habitat is wrong, and will only ruin what you once had.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. (Typical.)
I love this passage. I have lived this passage (the female version of course):
I’ve realized those nights pattern themselves in familiar ways. The work conferences, the bachelor parties, the birthday dinners and weddings—in particular, those bottom-of-the-guest-list weddings. You’re seated at a table with the loose ends, a little vulnerable in your disconnections. Your girlfriend starts chatting with the woman at her side, so you kill time talking to her date, more likely than not about sports. Soon enough, you two are leaving the girls behind to lean on the bar. Fast-forward five beers and you’re on the dance floor, jacketless, pointing—pointing!—at each other. In between songs you’re laughing at some inside joke from two hours ago. End of the night, guess what? Turns out he lives just thirty minutes away from you! You’re tempted to say it: Dude, we’ve got to hang out again.”
The author, Daniel Riley, goes on to say that he did try, one time, to meet up again with one such friend. It was a guy he met when out of town for work. The friend never responded. “I don’t blame him. He was seasoned and recognized the situation for what it was: a mutually beneficial short-term friendship. We used each other, and when we shifted back to the norm, he moved on. After all, once you’re home, you slip back into that comfort bubble of everyday co-workers and friends. Are you really gonna tell your inner circle that you can’t go to the ball game because you’ve got a date with a guy you shared a special night with in Toledo? Of course not.”
Now that I think of it, this isn’t unlike the blog post my brother wrote for me a couple years back. He too, he claimed, killed at weddings. Is this more of a man phenomenon?
Ok, so many questions for you folks: Is the 24-hour friendship more of a guy thing? (As us ladies always call the next day?) Do you believe the one-night-stand friendship should sometimes be left at that?