Can Men and Women Be Friends?

Can men and women truly be friends? Umm....maybe?

If you had asked me this question a couple of months ago, my answer would have been a definitive, unequivocal, NO. Nada. No way. You're kidding, right?

But now, I've changed my mind. I think that we can commune with the opposite sex under very controlled circumstances.

First, there are work friends. For instance, there is this man who toils out of one of our satellite offices and we work together on several projects. There are times that I talk with him and I laugh until I have tears streaming down my face. I can't discuss the hilarity with another soul (except Steph the Magnificent) because often, it involves politics and the two of us are the only blue in a company teaming with red. I have been known to call him for a fix and he never lets me down. However, I wouldn't never call him up, like one of my girlfriends and gush about a date (unless it was crappy). That would just be all kinds of weird for both of us.

Second, there are the friends by proxy: other people's husbands. Now, I know that all you have to do is open up a Hustler magazine and read all about how this husband was making house calls to that neighbour or how the BFF of some poor, unsuspecting wife was shagging the groom but really, does that happen that often? To real people? (Fingers in my ears...la la la, I can't hear you) In my world, I can talk with my married male friends without worry. However, as these men age and shed the twenty year old's machismo, they are a surprisingly tender bunch. As I got ready to start dating again, they were a welcomed source of information like, "Don't cut your hair. Men love long hair". Turns out to be true. "At least offer to pay. Don't fight him to the death over the cheque but at least offer. It's respectful." True, again.

Third, there are our gay male friends. I live in the south so the gay men in my town are communicating through sonar from their closets. Rainbow decals are not a popular bumper sticker choice. Nope. Down here, any suggestion of an "alternative" lifestyle is tucked neatly under a ready-to-wear suit. There is one exception. Retail. And this is why I love, love , love to shop. Even in a place where there are more livestock than people, I can drive 2.6 miles and have the prettiest men in the world give me straight up, sage fashion advice. They know shoes and accessories and they have a sixth sense for the "break up" vibe. Two of these men have become real friends to me. We talk regularly and sometimes more openly than I do with my girlfriends.

The final category is the most dangerous. In this one, the man and woman have explored a relationship, ended it and the sexual tension that normally exists between members of the opposite sex has been somewhat diffused. This is the scenario where hearts can be blown to smithereens. There is always genuine affection here. Sometimes there is love.

The relationship may not have worked out but people vow to be "friends" because the heart hasn't let go and the brain isn't firing correctly. The heart might convince you that if you just hang in there, time will take care of the issues. Maybe. But it's like betting the farm on the million to one horse or holding your breath for a really, really long time.

The other version of this is when two people decide to be friends with benefits. Tightrope. Over shark infested waters. With no safety net. In hurricane force winds.

For the rare few, the relationship is more important than the details and the heart and brain are content to assume the friendship role and shift from lover to cheerleader. They are sincere in their desire to see the other succeed in life..and love. Think Jerry and Elaine. Now try to think of ONE more example. See...I'm stumped, too. Rare, I tell you.

So, yes. I guess men and women can be friends but it is not a natural state. It's those pictures you see of a kitten sleeping in the crook of a dog's arm. Delicate balance. Sometimes there is harmony but I suspect that most of the time, there's a rabbit boiling on the stove.