Confused? Of course yesnot!
People who know me know I rarely date. Mostly because I'm a complete whimp. I'm not sure if it's a fear of rejection or what. I really just don't even know what to say most of the time when I'm interested in someone.
So I hit a rare moment. In a moment of sheer comedic brilliance, I ask a female, a real, human, damn decent looking lass out for drinks, and holy fuckballs, she accepts! Two real eyes and no walker!? I pinched myself a few times for effect, but I didn't wake up, I wasn't dreaming.
We meet up, out, for drinks. Everything seems cool, have a good chat, talk about this and that, good eye contact, little playful exchange goin' on both sides. She's comfortable, I'm getting there. For a system that never gets used, it seems like it's all go, full steam ahead. She says she's having a great time. I get a hug, and basically feel like I just got laid.
Rather than wait the ole 36-48-72 hours (not to be confused with 36-28-38), I go for gold, since it went so well and all. I call and leave a boneheaded message. Typical. As I try to re-record, I get flustered, or something, I can't remember exactly. Next thing you know the answering lady is saying "goodbye." #!$%#$!@##@!!!!! Ahhhh I'm having a moment. It's over, nothing I can do. I'm pretty sure I left one, but who knows. Shoot me now, no now, yes and now again. Once more, make sure this horse is dead.
Moving along, almost a week goes by, and nothing. WTF mate!? As I relive the evening over and over, it turns from great, to good, to ok, to eh, to not-so-hot to oh shit. Ahhhh fuck it. I'm the fucking man, the dude, the king cheese and the guy in front of the guys who are behind the guy (that's me again). I'm a fucking stud, and there's no way this bitch isn't gonna give me the time of day again. She must not have received the message.
I email. I did it in a moment of despair, hence the stench of wuss oozes from every letter. Ahhhh 24 hours later she writes back. I know she got it within the hour, she's online all damn day; but who's counting. I got the blowoff email. She might be going out of town for the weekend, yada yada, no suggestion for another time, blah blity blah blah. Ego ... shrinking ...
I reach for help. To the grand master. With his player brainwaves, and my English skills ... I whip up a little ditty and fire off a much better email. She won't be able to resist. It's fool proof. I don't care if the world IS full of idiots, this will work. I puff out my bird chest and we're back to the races baby. I saw her that night (long story short there's a community event we're both required to attend).
I'm my usual self: funny, obnoxious, .... uhm ... funny, obno---whatever. I was on fire. Another chick invites everyone out for drinks after. A few of us go, Ms Muffet says she'll be there after a quick errand. She never shows. Bleh. While out, we're talking about singles in the group, and another guy suggests she's tainted goods. I'm all ears, since I'd like to play cops and robbers with her.
He says she just got out of some long term relationship, and she's damaged goods. She didn't elude to this, but hey, I'm getting insider info.
It's 4 days later and I still haven't heard mierda (that's shit en espanol). Ahhhh ... why is it that when you can't have something, you want it more?
She's not even all that; decent looking, smart, funny, never speaks, can't cook worth a lick, probably just lays there on her back, for all of about 5 minutes before she asks if you're almost done. Never speaks at our meetings, daddy'$ girl. Though smart and cute, she's not self made.
I wonder what it is about me. That's what it comes down to. I knew before we went out we're not long-term-compatible. I knew enough about her already to make that decision. But for cryin' out loud, let us come to that conclusion together, humor me. Call me back. What was it!? I didn't burp, fart, embarass you, nothin'. I'm a NICE GUY. That's what you're looking for ... the guy who goes "that's her" ... well that's me! YO!
Femalse are confusing little beasts:
Take chances. Tell the truth. Date someone totally wrong for you. Say no. Spend all of your money. Fall in love. Get to know someone random. Be random. Say I love you even though they may not say it back. Sing out loud. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Cry. Apologize. Tell someone that they are your entire world. Let someone know what they are missing. Live life to the fullest. Live in the moment. And remember that life is all about chances... So you might as well take them.
They post about this and that, when you are sensitive, all you attract is emotional salvage titles. Who wants a salvage title?
So I'm changing my ways. I'm not going to be so uptight about these types of things. If she ever calls or emails back, so be it. I'll see her now and then, won't avoid it, won't act weird, but we know, I know (that she's stupid, duh). I'm going to make a concerted effort to be more approachable, and do more approaching. I'm going to play scenarios on women, and see how they react. I might get bored after a few weeks, but I owe it to myself to try it. I'm rambling.
I'm goin' out tomorrow night, and it's gonna be a good time. Even if it isn't, at least I'll enjoy a nice meal and some sangría, should we get white or red? Eh, fuck it, I figure a pitcher of each will do nicely.
-Dude
So I hit a rare moment. In a moment of sheer comedic brilliance, I ask a female, a real, human, damn decent looking lass out for drinks, and holy fuckballs, she accepts! Two real eyes and no walker!? I pinched myself a few times for effect, but I didn't wake up, I wasn't dreaming.
We meet up, out, for drinks. Everything seems cool, have a good chat, talk about this and that, good eye contact, little playful exchange goin' on both sides. She's comfortable, I'm getting there. For a system that never gets used, it seems like it's all go, full steam ahead. She says she's having a great time. I get a hug, and basically feel like I just got laid.
Rather than wait the ole 36-48-72 hours (not to be confused with 36-28-38), I go for gold, since it went so well and all. I call and leave a boneheaded message. Typical. As I try to re-record, I get flustered, or something, I can't remember exactly. Next thing you know the answering lady is saying "goodbye." #!$%#$!@##@!!!!! Ahhhh I'm having a moment. It's over, nothing I can do. I'm pretty sure I left one, but who knows. Shoot me now, no now, yes and now again. Once more, make sure this horse is dead.
Moving along, almost a week goes by, and nothing. WTF mate!? As I relive the evening over and over, it turns from great, to good, to ok, to eh, to not-so-hot to oh shit. Ahhhh fuck it. I'm the fucking man, the dude, the king cheese and the guy in front of the guys who are behind the guy (that's me again). I'm a fucking stud, and there's no way this bitch isn't gonna give me the time of day again. She must not have received the message.
I email. I did it in a moment of despair, hence the stench of wuss oozes from every letter. Ahhhh 24 hours later she writes back. I know she got it within the hour, she's online all damn day; but who's counting. I got the blowoff email. She might be going out of town for the weekend, yada yada, no suggestion for another time, blah blity blah blah. Ego ... shrinking ...
I reach for help. To the grand master. With his player brainwaves, and my English skills ... I whip up a little ditty and fire off a much better email. She won't be able to resist. It's fool proof. I don't care if the world IS full of idiots, this will work. I puff out my bird chest and we're back to the races baby. I saw her that night (long story short there's a community event we're both required to attend).
I'm my usual self: funny, obnoxious, .... uhm ... funny, obno---whatever. I was on fire. Another chick invites everyone out for drinks after. A few of us go, Ms Muffet says she'll be there after a quick errand. She never shows. Bleh. While out, we're talking about singles in the group, and another guy suggests she's tainted goods. I'm all ears, since I'd like to play cops and robbers with her.
He says she just got out of some long term relationship, and she's damaged goods. She didn't elude to this, but hey, I'm getting insider info.
It's 4 days later and I still haven't heard mierda (that's shit en espanol). Ahhhh ... why is it that when you can't have something, you want it more?
She's not even all that; decent looking, smart, funny, never speaks, can't cook worth a lick, probably just lays there on her back, for all of about 5 minutes before she asks if you're almost done. Never speaks at our meetings, daddy'$ girl. Though smart and cute, she's not self made.
I wonder what it is about me. That's what it comes down to. I knew before we went out we're not long-term-compatible. I knew enough about her already to make that decision. But for cryin' out loud, let us come to that conclusion together, humor me. Call me back. What was it!? I didn't burp, fart, embarass you, nothin'. I'm a NICE GUY. That's what you're looking for ... the guy who goes "that's her" ... well that's me! YO!
Femalse are confusing little beasts:
Take chances. Tell the truth. Date someone totally wrong for you. Say no. Spend all of your money. Fall in love. Get to know someone random. Be random. Say I love you even though they may not say it back. Sing out loud. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Cry. Apologize. Tell someone that they are your entire world. Let someone know what they are missing. Live life to the fullest. Live in the moment. And remember that life is all about chances... So you might as well take them.
They post about this and that, when you are sensitive, all you attract is emotional salvage titles. Who wants a salvage title?
So I'm changing my ways. I'm not going to be so uptight about these types of things. If she ever calls or emails back, so be it. I'll see her now and then, won't avoid it, won't act weird, but we know, I know (that she's stupid, duh). I'm going to make a concerted effort to be more approachable, and do more approaching. I'm going to play scenarios on women, and see how they react. I might get bored after a few weeks, but I owe it to myself to try it. I'm rambling.
I'm goin' out tomorrow night, and it's gonna be a good time. Even if it isn't, at least I'll enjoy a nice meal and some sangría, should we get white or red? Eh, fuck it, I figure a pitcher of each will do nicely.
-Dude
posted by Epic Dude at
12:52 AM
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