I was watching Aziz Ansari stand up the other night and he did this really amazing bit about our generation’s reluctance to commit to plans with friends. He suggested we foil our friend time as we have serious FOMO. We like to have the flexibility and freedom to ditch our date if something better comes along. We offer up all kind of ambiguous non-committal responses when invited to events; maybe, not sure, will try. We respond last minute with false promise; especially on Facebook where a sea of affirmative RSVP’s equates to actual party of less than three. Dogging people has become acceptable. I’m uber-guilty of all of the above, but my dogging doesn’t stem from a fear of missing out, rather from a fear of being locked in.
My eagerness to attend an event definitely depends on my financial status; I don’t want to commit if my bank balance has recently taken a hit. If I’ve been raped all week by unanticipated costs (like a fucking retainer repair at $160) I’m not going to say yes to a weekend hang. It’s no fun going out when you’re a broke bitch; scouring the menu for the cheapest dish and shamelessly skimping on rounds. I like to have flexibility around my social soirées; if I’m skint I’ll skip, but if I’m minted AF I’ll definitely attend and shit gets turnt up.
I also like to leave saying yes until the last minute so I can see how I feel on the day, and assess my mood and energy levels. I know this is really selfish, but we all have those friends that are a little more work than others. The people that rant and rave and make you feel like you’re climbing an emotional stair master. They’re chucked into the maybe pile as it really comes down to whether or not I have the energy to deal with them.
I’m equally as wary when it comes to hanging with my wild party pals. Saying yes to these guys also means saying yes to tequila shots, late night butter chicken and a damning hangover the next day. No matter under what guise you meet, the night always ends with spews, tears or cheers. I’m hesitant to firm up plans with these loose units unless I know I have fuck all to do the next day.
Honestly, sometimes I flake on friends just to sit at home, cuddle my Max and Ollie, Netflix and chill. Being an overtalkative, chirpy extravert can leave me feeling drained and brain fried by the end of the day, pats and monosyllable responses are about all I can muster.
Perhaps it’s less about why we dog and more about improving dogging etiquette. It’s too bloody easy to cancel via text these days, we get out of things without having to face any consequences; disappointed eyes or hurt voices. So the times when I’m tossing up turning up, I always try to remember moments when I’ve made the effort and felt good, happy, proud. When I got out of the house and accomplished something, hung with a friend and felt better for it.
New years resolution, be less of a dog.