The Binding Legal Agreement of 'Let's Definitely Do Something Soon'
Article I: The Initial Commitment Ceremony
Witness the sacred American ritual: two people, high on the endorphins of a surprisingly good social interaction, enter into a verbal contract with zero intention of enforcement. The setting is typically a parking lot, restaurant exit, or that awkward space between someone's front door and your car where you've been saying goodbye for seventeen minutes.
"We should totally hang out soon!" one party declares with the enthusiasm typically reserved for lottery winners. "Yes! Let's definitely do something!" responds the other, matching their energy like a mirror reflecting pure social optimism.
Both parties are lying. Both parties know the other is lying. Both parties are completely comfortable with this mutual deception because it serves a crucial social function: ending the current interaction on a high note while preserving the theoretical possibility of future friendship.
Section 2: The Vague Timeline Clause
The beauty of this contract lies in its complete lack of specificity. No dates are mentioned. No activities are proposed. The word "soon" is deployed with the legal precision of a term that could mean anything from next week to the heat death of the universe.
"I'll text you!" becomes a promise as binding as saying "I'll think about it" when your mom suggests you call your grandmother more often. It's technically true—you will think about texting them, usually around 2 AM three months later when you're scrolling through your contacts and remember this person exists.
The timeline is deliberately elastic because both parties understand that enthusiasm has a half-life shorter than fresh guacamole. The current moment of "we should hang out" energy will dissipate approximately 47 minutes after you get home and remember you have laundry to do.
Article III: The Calendar Consultation Theater
Should either party actually follow through with a text (typically sent 6-8 weeks later during a moment of social guilt), the next phase begins: The Great Calendar Performance.
"Let me check my calendar and get back to you!" is the polite way of saying "I need to consult my future self about whether I'll want to be social when that time comes." This consultation period can last anywhere from three days to several geological epochs.
Both parties will then engage in the sophisticated dance of proposing times they're secretly hoping the other person is busy. "How about next Thursday?" translates to "Please say you're busy so I can feel good about trying while maintaining my hermit lifestyle."
When schedules inevitably don't align (because neither party is actually checking their calendar), this triggers the Mutual Relief Protocol.
Section 4: The Renewal and Expiration Terms
The contract automatically renews every time you see this person's Instagram story and think "Oh yeah, I was supposed to hang out with them." This moment of remembrance typically occurs while you're in pajamas eating cereal for dinner, which reinforces your decision to maintain the status quo.
The agreement can be renewed indefinitely through periodic social media interactions: liking their vacation photos, commenting "looks fun!" on their restaurant posts, and occasionally sharing memes that remind you of them. These digital touchpoints maintain the friendship in a state of perpetual potential energy.
Expiration occurs naturally when one of you moves, gets into a relationship, or discovers a new hobby that consumes all available social bandwidth. No formal termination is required—the contract simply dissolves into the ether like morning fog.
Article V: The Resurrection Clause
Perhaps the most remarkable feature of this social contract is its ability to be resurrected at any moment. Running into this person at Target eighteen months later immediately reactivates all terms and conditions. "We still need to hang out!" you'll both exclaim, as if the previous contract never expired, just went into hibernation.
This resurrection can occur multiple times with the same person, creating a series of overlapping agreements that exist in parallel dimensions of good intentions.
Section 6: The Mutual Satisfaction Guarantee
The genius of this system is that everyone wins. You get to feel like a social, outgoing person who makes plans and maintains friendships. They get to feel the same way. Nobody has to actually sacrifice their Netflix time or figure out what activity two semi-strangers should do together for three hours.
The promise itself becomes the friendship. The potential energy of maybe hanging out someday is often more satisfying than the actual work of coordinating schedules, choosing activities, and making small talk while wondering if you're both having fun.
Final Terms and Conditions
By participating in this social ritual, both parties agree that the intention is what matters, not the execution. You're not bad friends for never following through—you're efficient friends who understand that some relationships exist perfectly in the theoretical realm.
The "let's hang out soon" contract serves as social lubrication, allowing interactions to end on positive notes while preserving everyone's right to remain comfortably antisocial.
And honestly? That's exactly what everyone wants anyway.