It’s a Saturday night and you had a complete work free day, when your buddy calls you up to go out drinking with a phrase like “hey ball sucker lets go out get drunk and pick up some fresh stench/tail tonight”. You, being without a significant other, have the hopeful impression that this night will actually end with meeting a new girl (the aforementioned stench/tail) and not end up with you and your three buddies standing in the farthest corner of the bar discussing whether or not the Yankees overpaid for Derek Jeter this last offseason. (Of course they overpaid but he’s Derek Jeter).
You get to the bar, start drinking and you’re feeling that good buzz where you’re not drunk and stupid. Your usual crippling anxiety about talking to the opposite sex has now worn off. After all you’re not paying six dollars for a light beer because of the great atmosphere of seizure inducing light show and music loud enough to make your testicles cling to you for fear of being shaken off. You see a group of girls and one them is to your particularly liking she’s tall, short, thin, curvy, big boobs, small boobs, legs, butt, etc. As you approach this girl (this girl that you believe to be the epitome of the female gender or just the girl you think you have a shot with) cautiously, you believe yourself to be a lean predator stalking their prey and not the drunken circus bear you most likely resemble.
Your approach brings you into eye contact territory and you briefly hesitate looking for that cue, either a look of death or disgust or genuine disbelief that you dare to approach. Seeing none of these warning signs or perhaps even an inviting smile, you move in to striking distance. At this point all genuine thought having left your mind, you attempt the standard and surprisingly most effective of pickup lines, “Hi my name is xxxxx,” then the dreaded second of hesitations in which you wait for a response, hoping for a smile instead of a brush off which is likely to be a hammer blow to your will to approach the next feminine figure you are attracted to.
You receive back a smile and a “Hello my name is xxxxxx.” From this point on the pressure has gone from coal turning into diamonds to just your fat friend sitting on your chest. Uncomfortable but you can grit your teeth and get through it and with each successive sentence that passes back and forth between you and your new friend the pressure will lessen to featherweight proportions. At this point it would be impossible to write a single post that doesn’t turn into a "choose your own adventure" book from here out. Look next post when an adventure is chosen.
No comments:
Post a Comment