Backpage Confessions: My Everything

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And three posts later, just starting up again after an extremely long Soprano-esque break where you start to forget why you even tune in in the first place, we’re still on the topic of … friends. On a dating blog. Sorry guys, I just get into these phases and become obsessed with things. That’s how I be. I’ll snap out of it soon.

Maybe I just “put my all into everything that I do”, which also happens to be my answer to “Tell us about your weaknesses” during job interviews when I turn a negative into a positive. “Well, I just work really, really hard. I get so focused and excited about what I’m doing that sometimes I have to remind myself that I can only do so much each day.” Then I fake laugh, trying to make it a professional fake laugh of course so that I can get the job so I can stop hating job searching and start hating the job itself. Not that I’m lazy, I just feel like I should be dating instead of working. And dating encompasses getting ready for dates and going on dates and daydreaming afterward about them and fantasizing about future ones. Dating isn’t a chop chop you’re done experience.

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I promise I’ll get back to the mensss soon enough though. And at least we’re on the right track with this post, since we’re talking about backpage friends that become scarily like your backpage man. We’re talking about the one you know even without asking that you’ll be hanging out at least one weekend night with. The one you say, “Of course you are” to whatever she’s going through because you’re going through the exact same thing too. “I’m really into Indian guys lately.” “Of course you are, because I recently acquired somewhat of an Indian backpage entourage myself.” We’re talking about… your Everything.

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Your Everything is a friend with whom, and apparently it is ‘whom’ and not ‘who’ according to Word, you’re really, really close. I mean tiiiihhhhiiiight. An everything isn’t a something. They’re a be all end all. And it goes without saying that you can’t have multiple Everythings either. One, maybe two tops. There’s just not enough time in the day to do any more than that justice. A bitch gotta eat for Christ sake. (Don’t worry. I can say that because I’m Jewish. It’s fine. Just another figure of speech as far as I’m concerned. I mean, yes, the term does exist, but it just doesn’t have the same significance that it has to other backpage people.)

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An Everything will sneak up on you too. All of a sudden one day bam, you’ve got yourself an Everything. Without warning there’s suddenly someone else (not even a man so definitely not your man) that you’re talking to for hours on the phone and having the time of your life. All your inside jokes are their inside jokes and sometimes you can only talk to them because there’s a new language going on that only you two understand. If it hasn’t happened to you, it will one day, watch. (My Everything just happens to be Mexican, so these days I incorrectly add “watch” to the end of a lot of my sentences these days since we hang around so much and I pick up stuff.)

Now that’s not to say that life with an Everything is all rosy. Sometimes you get too close and fight like sisters. In my last argument with My Everything, she said and I quote, “I feel like I’m just not important in your life. You never have time for me anymore.” Ummm, sorry? Did I somehow just acquire a backpage boyfriend without my knowledge? Like I said, serious backpage business. Being an Everything is not for the faint of heart. And once you’ve made up, you’re still pissed at her that she’s not a guy. Thanks, thanks a lot ALICIA. Why can’t your name just be ALEX ? Would that be so hard? Gracias JANAYA. Can’t be JOHN huh? Too much for you?

An Everything will try to change you too, just like a real live boyfriend inevitably would. “Cherie, we have got to work on your lateness and your bad sense of direction.” And you want nothing more than to knock their block off you’re so livid, but, at the end of the day, you know they’ve got your back in a way that only an Everything can.

My intention here though is not to turn this into an Everything-bashing post. Not at all. I actually want to sing the praises of the oft-underappreciated Everything. Am I saying that just because my Everything is privy to all types of extremely classified information and could ruin me if she wanted to? Of course not. I love my Everything. Just want you to have a realistic view of what it’s like.

So, as I’m sure you’ve ascertained, Everythings share EVERYTHING. It ain’t no fun if your homie can’t have none. You share and tell all, and the feedback that comes back is brutally honest.

“Cherie, I’m sorry, but you’re dating down. You’re dating down! Stop it.” (When I was a waitress and ‘he’ was a cook and I had ‘waitress/cook syndrome’, a phenomenon running rampant in restaurants everywhere as we speak.)

An Everything will also help out in whatever way is necessary, like tirelessly concocting a plan to help you figure out what the guy you’re seeing does for a living when you don’t want to ask because you don’t want to be that superficial LA girl. Which you’re not, but you still need to know that information regardless. Does a ‘nice dinner’ mean Katsuya or Olive Garden? C’mon. That matters.

And with that Everything by your side, you’ll get to the bottom of things with that man in no time. “Oh, so you’re tired from work? What kind of tired are you? Do your feet hurt? (A sure sign of blue collar because they’ve been on them all day, unless they’re teachers and then still unfortunately blue collar thanks Republicans.) Or is it your eyes? (from a computer.) What hurts, eyes or feet? Eyes or feet!? Just wanna hear about your day is all.”

But the Everything duty to end all duties is participation in a reconnaissance mission. Recon is what sets an Everything apart from the rest. These are missions of the utmost importance, and one wrong move could blow the whole operation. They require the services of someone you trust 100%, and your Everything is that person to devise and strategize with you. It comes with the title.

Performing reconnaissance can take many forms. Maybe you’re asked to go undercover one night at a karaoke bar where the target man will be and say something like “Great article the other day! Alicia was laughing so hard when she read it.” Obviously, it’s then a given that you are to report back immediately not only a word for word transcript of the conversation that ensued, but also an intelligent analysis of his non-verbal reaction. “Well, how did he look when you said that? What was his tone?” And you best have answers.

Or maybe you’re to gather intel by following a car. I won’t say who (to protect the embarrassed), but one time, one of us actually wore a wig while the other frantically trailed an ex-boyfriend’s car to find out which club he was going to so one of us could “bump into him’ that night. See, that’s the thing. An Everything will never tell which one of us it was because it doesn’t matter. Whether you’re a head honcho or just a wingman in a particular situation, chances are the roles will be reversed next time.

Anyway, we achieved smashing success during that Operation Ex. We ended up giving the ex-boyfriend a ride back to his house in the very car we had used to trail him a couple hours earlier. Later that night, standing outside on his balcony, this time seeing it from the inside rather than the outside, we laughed and laughed. “About nothing ex boyfriend, don’t you worry about why we’re laughing. Mind your business.” It was a risky mission sure, but sometimes the higher the risk, the higher the reward. And we completed the job like true professionals. Quite impressive if I do say so myself. Reconnaissance mission fully accomplished.

And, in true Everything form, the other one kept quiet a couple of months later when one of us said, “Remember when we ran into my ex-boyfriend? That was fun.” No reason to point out the slight distortion of the facts.

Now I know in the near future I’ll have various My Boyfriends and hopefully only one My Husband and six My Kids, but for the time being, I’m pretty happy with My Everything.

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