If Your "Friends" Constantly Ignore You, Then You Are Not Wanted by Their Group

I sadly recall this event in my life a few years ago so vividly that sometimes I feel that I dreamed it. And yes, I would give anyone $3,000.00 to make that a reality. What happened was this: I saw two or three of my my friends standing around in front of a Walmart just shooting the breeze and not really doing anything productive. Looked like a clear-cut invitation for me to take part.

I walked up to the three guys and one girl and then there was that obligatory "how are you?" "what are you up to these days?" said to just ease a conscience or two and I was idiot enough to answer each query like a backwoods rube on his first time to a big town.

Suddenly the pretty girl spoke up. "Hey, how about us heading to that Taco Bell over there and grab a bite?" The other guys jumped on that idea like a famished Spotted Trout devouring a hapless grasshopper who had fell into the Trout's domain.

Now know this, dear readers. At no given time did the girl or any of the three guys even bother to say to me, "Ken, you going with us?" It was one of those times when you reluctantly chug along behind them because if you do not go, you will be blamed for hurting the feelings of four people. Who wants that?

In all sincerity, I felt severely out-of-place, unwanted, a square peg in a round hole type of thing. But had no clever lines to cover my discomfort. I knew that the pretty girl had plans with one of the guys or something she needed to say to the group (without me) and there I was lumbering along like a trained Rhino. Oh how I asked God (in my heart) to please "part these waters" so I can get out of here free. Thank you."

We arrived at the Taco Bell, found a table, and sat down. The rest of the group mingled in a small amount of small talk and some of it obligatory to soothe my suspicions of not really wanting me to be at this high-level Taco Bell meeting. That makes me laugh. Taco Bell: famous for high-level meetings. The waitress came as soon as we sat down. Everyone but me ordered food and drink. I just ordered coffee because I knew that soon I would be leaving and I did't need any extra weight holding me back.

I would suggest

. . . some ways for you to get even with these flimsy excuses for friends, but one, it would not help anything and two, wouldn't this make you just like them?

When the food came, so did the questions. "You not get anything, Ken?" "You not hungry? That's a first." "You sick or something?" Were just a few of things that were asked of me and I did my best Robert Redford character in Horse Whisperer, "Nope." I smiled and sipped my coffee.

This is only one incident. Another was when I met up with some different people whom I had graduated with from high school and when I politely walked up to greet them, the conversation ceased and this forced look of jubilation spread over their faces.

• What I am telling you now might serve you in a similar situation. Each of these people told something they had done after graduation and the rest listened intently. But when I was asked what I had been doing with myself, at mid-way through my answer, a guy interrupted me for he had forgotten a key element to his "exciting" story. When he finished . . .NOT ONE PERSON asked me to finish my story. Not one. Now you see how you can use this vehicle in your own life. If the group does not ask you to finish what you were saying, odds are, you were never wanted at the meeting.

• Another "tell" to let you know if you are an accepted part of a certain group is if one of the group keeps mispronouncing your name and seemingly they are doing it on purpose. It is designed to frustrate you into leaving. Example: "Bob": "Lenny, you worked for the paper, right?" ME: "Yes, "Bob," for 23 plus years and by the way, "Kenny," not "Lenny" is my name.

• Or this classic production. For years you have had a thing for this girl in this vicious group. She's not all that bad and would make some great female company. Finally you ask her out. She is glad to go with you, but says, "When you arrive to pick me up, can you bring a yearbook of our senior year so we can look at it when we get back home? You agree. And on the night of your date, you get out of your car and go bopping up to her front door. The moment she answers the doorbell, she sees the yearbook and responds, "What is that?" "The yearbook you told me to bring," you reply. "No, not that yearbook. Didn't you attend another high school and not Hamilton?" she argues. You say no more. Now she has scored in making you feel like an outcast.