Heads up, this is a post about life as a guy (or very progressive women).
Dear, Last Night, if there is anything you have taught me, it's that I have no game. (No, I literally mean, NO game).
A Rewind:
Last weekend, while working, my phone goes off with a FB friend request from a stranger I didn't know along with a very interesting message that went something like this:
"I know you have no idea who this is, but you have the most beautiful smile and it brightens my day every time I see it. :)"
The smiley face at the end was a little too cheesy for me, not gonna lie. I'm far from a romantic type of guy. I don't react well when someone comes up to me that I don't know. Aside from simply just .. not being my type, the smiley face means that you'll never have a chance with me. I remember my ex one time had discussed in a serious discussion/apology that he had thought about bringing flowers. But, when thinking about who he was about to meet aka, me, he instantly changed his mind. He had learned quick to not sugar coat things with romance.
That following Tuesday morning, while ranting to my coworker about how creepy it was that I had been found and messaged, he started to walk up. I darted to the back, looked around for something to bring to the front, so it wasn't terribly obvious that I was avoiding him. Well, I came out too soon. He was waiting for me. He comes up to me and goes, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee." (Note: I work in a coffee shop; so, never ask anyone that works in a coffee shop out for coffee). I look around and reply, "You know I work in a coffee shop, right? [insert a squint of the eyes saying, 'your an idiot' here], "I can't, but thanks." Then moved on right to the next customer.
In reflection, I wondered why I never get hit on or set up. I asked some friend. This is the consensus:
1) Apparently, I'm really good looking and it's difficult to come up to me. Not to mention, I have killer style. Hell, just to meet me for a coffee or say hi, apparently, one feel like they need to dress up. I got some good looking genes (thanks, mom).
2) Despite my wit and damning humor, I'm a good and amazing guy, that they don't know anyone that is up to my level and they not gonna half-ass a blind date for you.
3) My friends would have to approve and they tell me that he would have to get awesomer by the second in order to be up to parity.
4) Ever since I was younger, I have "Fuck Off" written on my facial expression when just sitting in public.
My friends do watch out for me, because I've been in some really shitty relationships. I guess that's why I come off very guarded. Lessons learned from them include, I want to intimidate, I'm a pretty cool dude, but I'm a difficult match, Others are not cool enough because I'm judgey, and I naturally come off as an ass.
That next night, I had the pleasure of dinner with one of my best and oldest friends, Mary. I love Mary, because she gives to me how it is, she's honest and she dishes it right back to me. While shoveling our faces with carbs, we talked about how my life is coming into focus and it would do me some good to settle down. I just need to do it. She's right. This discussion has stayed with me some time now. I'm the person, who has planned out a life of celibacy. I have no qualms about that. I'm just one of those people that love doesn't look good on me. I make sense alone. It's also difficult to picture me with a match. Still, it might do me some good. When trying to think of what it would be like for me in a proper relationship, the dynamics of my kind of relationship would be similar to Austin's Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.
Last Night:
I did a first last night: I gave my number out willingly to someone I didn't know. Damn, that is far harder than it looks. Now, I know why guys talk about it and are so reluctant before doing the kill. Chances are, if they are anything like me, the general reaction is, "Thanks, Bye" with a roll of the eyes and dropping the number in the trash on the way out. I'm really not nice.
I had gone to the Union to meet friends where I saw a regular there. I had mentioned to a friend while dancing that I wish I had the nerve to go up and strike conversation. Well, they did it for me. I went over to properly introduce myself. I couldn't talk, it was awkward and then Annie's "I Don't Like Your Band Came On; so, I said, lets dance. Nope! That was a total bust too. I'd say because we are both 80s-style dancers. I had plenty of wingman and I still failed. That whole logic of liquid courage, well, now that is just a bunch of shit too. I had plenty of whiskey-coke and still failed. Regardless, I wanted to know I could do it. God bless, my friend Edward. He was so encouraging and nice as I was trying to make a move. Still, puberty was less awkward than me trying to give a signal that I'm interested.
Upon leaving the bar, my number was on the back of a piece of paper, in my front left pocket and I did it. I hardly remember what I said, but I'm sure I came off handicapped. I handed the piece of paper off and walked back to Edward as we went to my car. Edward had told me, "Apollo, you just needed to do it. If you don't do it, then you will wonder every time and if nothing else .. it's good practice."
[here is the receipt paper that I tore off the end for my number]
I have a new respect when a guy goes over to a girl, he doesn't know, introduces himself, tries to strike up conversation and exchange numbers. It did me good to be on the other side for once.
single and far from able to know how to mingle,
Apollo
ps. Sorry for misspelling, I'm kinda hungover..
ps. Sorry for misspelling, I'm kinda hungover..