The Diary Of A Professional Third Wheel



5 pm: Roommate and I sit in our living room after the end of a busy week of work. As we recap the day, we discuss Boyfriend’s arrival. She says, “He hates driving in rush hour traffic, I hope he’s not pissed off when he gets here.” As do I, Roommate. Nothing is worse than being the third wheel to a cranky couple. We third wheels like our couples happy and carefree. It makes our job so much easier.

8 pm: The past 3 hours (our only girl time for the weekend) involved us splitting a full pizza and discussing the trials and tribulations of our respective weeks. Boyfriend will arrive any minute.

10pm: Boyfriend has been here for almost 2 hours and he has shown no signs of irritability. Dodged a bullet there. We settle on a gender-neutral movie that will not bore Boyfriend while still keeping the interest of Roommate and I. I offer to make popcorn as an excuse to leave the room so that Roommate and Boyfriend have a chance to suck face for a little, tell each other how cute they are, and describe how much they missed one another. Sadly, as a third wheel, there is no one here to tell me how cute I am. To make up for it, I give myself a much larger bowl of popcorn than the other two. Roommate and Boyfriend will never know. They are far too immersed in each other’s awesomeness.

11:30pm: Because I am a wise and seasoned third wheel, I excuse myself from the evening activities early. One must never stick around long enough to be involved in the “Ok… well, we’re going to go to bed. Goodnight!” conversation with your couple. It will just make you think about the fact that your couple is going to bed with each other and that the closest thing you have to a guy in your bed is your cheetah print body pillow named Chester.


2 am: I may or may not have been woken up by questionable sounds in the middle of the night. Whether they are coming from my couple or not, I will never know. I was dreaming of a life as the third wheel to a prestigious couple like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively or Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone. In third wheel world, that’s when you know you’ve made it.

10 am: I have awoken from a dream-filled sleep refreshed and ready to be the professional third wheel I know I can be. Weekends with just me and Roommate are filled with fun activities, and just because Boyfriend is along do not mean we will be slumming it. I walk downstairs only to find that couple has not awoken yet. I’m torn. I could relish this time alone, but then again I am very eager to begin my third wheel duties. What’s a girl to do?!  Make a waffle topped with Nutella and sprinkles, obviously. Throw in a few Kardashian re-runs and a couple-free couch and I’ve got myself a relaxing hour or so until they wake up.

11 am: Boyfriend has descended down the stairs, but Roommate is not with him.  He yawns and states “Roommate is in the shower.” Guess it’s just the two of us for the next 20+ minutes. I typically enjoy the rare opportunity to converse with the lesser-known half of my couple one-on-one, but in this case I’m too deeply involved in this compelling episode of the Kardashians to make small talk. We sit in silence, save occasional complains and dimwitted statements from Kim, Kourtney, and Khloe, until Roommate comes down from the shower.

2 pm: After hours of deciding what activities to do and preparing my mental pro/con list for whether or not I should be a part of them, we settle on bowling. We arrive at the bowling alley. While getting our shoes, Couple starts to act all lovey-dovey. The man behind the counter handing us our shoes gives me a sympathetic look that says, “sorry you don’t have your own boy toy to suck face with.” That’s right, a man who cleans shoes used by hundreds of people a day for a living feels sorry for me. A lesser third wheel would have succumbed to the sympathy. I, being the professional I am, take my footwear and go.

5 pm: I win at bowling, obviously. Perhaps it was because Roommate and Boyfriend spent the time in between frames sucking face and were not on top of their game, but it’s a victory nonetheless. I spend a few moments in the car on the way to dinner wondering if they ever feel weird sucking face in public. I quickly realize the answer to that is “obviously not,” and partake in the age-old discussion surrounding the question “where should we eat?” At dinner, our waitress either feels bad for me or is under the impression that the three of us are involved in some new-age type of relationship that involves 3 people. Neither one of these scenarios surprise me. I’ve heard it all before.

9 pm: Plot twist: Boyfriend has an Acquaintance from his fraternity, ΒΓΘ, that he’d like us all to meet this evening. Listen here Boyfriend, I’m no rookie. I know you’re trying to set me up. Roommate did not look the least bit surprised when you brought up this “spontaneous” change of plans in just enough time for me to make myself look semi-presentable. I’ll go with it, but only for the sake of Roommate. I can tell by the glimmer in her eye that she has already planned our “pair of best friends double wedding extravaganza.”

10 pm: The bar scene is difficult for me to navigate as it is. Throw in the fact that I’m still an on-duty third wheel and that I’m meeting a lame guy who Roommate claims is “perfect for me” and it’s straight up exhausting. 15 minutes and half a Blue Moon in, I already want to go home and re-watch the second season of House of Cards in my bed. Acquaintance shows up dressed in your typical button down and dark jeans and I think he’s not that bad. Then I see his shoes…. oh, his shoes. Boyfriend had a pair just like them before Roommate got a hold of him. Must be a ΒΓΘ thing. I’m a firm believer that the type of shoes someone wears says a lot about them, and this is definitely a red flag.

12 pm: Acquaintance has bought me about 3 drinks in an effort to somehow deter me from my position as third wheel, or so I assume. Not gonna work, buddy. Little do you know, I’ve been pouring large parts of my drinks directly into your glass whenever you high five someone you met once or check out another girl’s ass. The fact that you don’t notice your drink seems to be bottomless is yet another addition to my trunk full of red flags that I’ve noticed over the course of the last 2 hours.


2 am: Roommate and Boyfriend begin to drunkenly bicker, a sign this night is coming to a close. Whether it was my semi-buzzed state or the tumultuous cab ride home, all four of us are now in the living room of my apartment and I have no clue how we all got there. As any good third wheel would do, I diffused the Roommate-Boyfriend fight with the ease of a professional therapist. All in a day’s work. I’m wandering into my room ready for bed, not caring what happens to anyone else, when Acquaintance drags his obliterated self, red flags and all, into my room after me. “I’m sorry,” I state, “did we make some sort of sleeping agreement that I’m not aware of?” Acquaintance proceeds to ignore my sarcastic protest and passes out in my bed. How romantic. Now Chester and I will have to sleep on the couch. Hopefully that is enough to convey my disinterest in Acquaintance. However, based on my assessment of his intelligence thus far, it’s a gamble.

11 am: The next morning is filled with Gatorade and carbs and proves awkward for the three amateurs.  As a third wheel I have become immune to any awkwardness, so I sit and eat my Cheerios in a state of pure ecstasy. Why so happy, you ask? It’s almost noon on Sunday and I’ll soon be free from Acquaintance and Boyfriend. Acquaintance is simply no longer welcome, and Boyfriend has a long drive back. After an explosive fight about something neither one of them remember that lasted until about 5 am, he is more than happy to be heading home. Will Roommate and Boyfriend break up because of this? I sure hope not. That would mean I would be unemployed.

3 pm: I avoid a pink slip yet again when Roommate and Boyfriend resolve their differences via text. My job is safe and all is right with the world. Roommate and I spend the next few hours watching reality shows, discussing Boyfriend’s faults, why Roommate loves him anyway, and the hundreds of inanimate objects with higher IQs than Acquaintance. 

featured image – New Girl