Antihero's Blog

Wednesday, March 13th, 2013

Well, this Day 2 was, to put it lightly, an adventurous encounter. To add a quick back-story before my ‘exposition’, I met a girl outside of a well known club in town after the venue let out for the night. I opened her by basically telling her to eat a hotdog I was holding (this was back when I drank heavily - liquid courage), and began running game on her. It turns out we are from the same town originally (this is becoming a theme), and we exchanged numbers, talked a bit after, etc. She is pretty hot I must say, probably a California 8 or so. I could tell I was noticeably older than her, but this only came out later on - on this day 2 to be specific.

After dealing with several weeks of varying levels of flakage, I finally manage to get her to solidify a hang-out on a Friday. All seemed right with the world, and I plan to organize my weekend around one good night of gaming, and one good night of Day 2’ing... or something like that. In any case, this afternoon she texts me to see what I’m doing and says we should hang out. I try to get a read on what kind of place she would like to go, however both she and I are new in town and she has nothing to offer. Finally I just go alpha and suggest we go to the first bar I ever went to in this city - a semi-fratty but upbeat bar with good deals. She is down and I make my way towards the venue.

On the way there, she texts that she “ran into a friend on the street and she wants to come along”. This does not surprise me given the fact I have not built much comfort with her yet and, of course, we met outside of a club. I could be an axe-murderer for all she knows. Girls tend to have this logic, and frankly, I don’t blame them, us guys can be weird sometimes. Anyway, I don’t think much of it and I’m in a good mood as I walk in the venue.

The first unexpected variable arises immediately after I walk through the door - it’s country-and-western night in this place, and it is dead. And by country-and-western I mean literally like 10 people are line-dancing in the middle of the dance floor to some old song! Dear Lord Christ, I think, I hope these girls aren’t uptight.

Well, per my luck, of course they are, haha. The minute I sit down they comment on how “hot it is” in the venue. It isn’t at all, but I understand that metaphorically it means this place sucks, haha. I try to deflect and change the subject, although I can already feel that her buying temperature is extremely low, especially in relation to the fact that hanging out tonight was her idea. To make matters worse, her friend is extremely strange and looks like a Latina Amy Winehouse -- grotesque tattoos and all. I try to engage her by asking if they go to the same school, and the girl simply says, “NO’ before staring at me in a weird Vulcan Mind Meld sort of way. This scenario is so awkward that both my target and I laugh, and I try to move on.

The flow of conversation is slow and arduous. I tell DHV stories to try to excite the nature of the interaction, and she would simply say, “Yeah, cool, awesome”, and then stare around. The awkwardness is palatable. Furthermore, she continuously texts throughout the night, and considering I have an iPhone, I can recognizing she is literally texting back and forth. Ego hit to the Nth degree. I could hear RSD Alexander’s voice in my head the whole time, “Just stay in the ‘it’s fine’ bracket... time and duration equals attraction... there’s no reason I’m not enough” and so on and so forth, which definitely helps, although I have to say I was still bewildered by the entire endeavor. At some point I discover she is 19 years old, seven years younger than me... WTF? I don’t have a visibly strong reaction to the news, however it becomes hard not to make many negs on the age difference... and also not feel like an old man creeping on the young’ns!

Somehow I try to appear untroubled by all this, and I continue to run through things to talk about. Luckily, the strange friend gets up and starts dancing (giving us isolation), and my target comments that her friend is absolutely wasted. I was a little shocked, as I thought her friend was just being weird, and say, “Really??” to which target says, “You couldn’t notice?!” and I nod understandingly. Periodically, she would play an odd form of footsie with me where she would tap my feet under the table a little bit, almost like a peculiar form of kino. At one point I say something clever and she gives me the “middle school nudge” with her foot, an indicator of interest, however she would then withdraw immediately thereafter. This lead me to be quite confused most of the night, not sure if I was in attraction, comfort, or continuously blowing myself and she was just there for validation and drinks. In hindsight I think I appeared as “regular” as possible about the entire cat-and-mouse game, however often being “regular” or just “cool” doesn’t seal the deal.

The best part of the night was when I pulled out a game of the ol’ “Fuck Marry Kill” from the days of yore. She took to this VERY well, and began to not look at her phone (a good sign). Quite naturally, when it came to the “fuck” part I said I’d fuck her, which she seemed to take to pretty well. In any case, we then went to “10 things I love 10 things I hate” a game I made up from an interview I once saw. This was successful but not as successful as the first, and she gets up and goes to the bathroom. After she returns I get up and go to the restroom myself.

What occurred next is the most perplexing part of the evening, although if I’m being honest I think in general this was the nail in the coffin for the night. After I return from taking a piss, she has left the table we were sitting and gone to sit with drunk friend, who has leaned against a guy in a booth. The guy seems chill although I couldn’t see if he was a stranger trying to fuck her, or there for ‘protection’. In any case, target is just sitting there doing nothing really, and it really does seem like they were attempting to blow me out, which might be the case - we’ll see how the rest of this goes in a few days from now. I sit down in the booth for a few minutes, and no one is really saying anything... again, extremely awkward and I look at the clock. 1:10am. I have class the next day. I decide at some point to just say “fuck it” and I get up and leave after receiving a very slight and thoughtless hug from target. Sigh.

I hail a cab back to my place and think about what I learned. The most important thing I gleaned from this is actually a positive - this is a reference experience. I learned more about myself and girls in this 3-hour interaction than months of video-blogs, or even opening a bunch of sets with simply a “Hi!” in-field. This is the nitty-gritty, the war zone, or as Justin Timberlake as Sean Parker in The Social Network says, “[This is] life in the NFL”. This is big leagues, man, and sometimes the hits can hurt.

+ Actually showed up and pulled the trigger
+ Endured through extreme social awkwardness
+ Did not get reactive or qualify myself very much
+ Pulled out a couple good games for rapport
+ And the end of the day I learned a metric fuckton tonight.

- Became “permission” boy... waited for permission to do most things
- Let the environment (drunk friend, shitty bar) overwhelm me
- Should have left an hour earlier
- Should probably just cut this girl off in general
- Wasted too much money buying her drinks

As always,
Keep the faith and beware of darkness...

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