Foreplay: So although I've had some mild success in dating recently, they've all resulted in lukewarm results. I don't necessarily mind jumping through proverbial social hoops because I always find it fun to talk to strangers (save for psychos, perverts, and outright skeezy motherfuckers). But there's just something disheartening when things don't work out and you find yourself wondering about the rate of his receding hairline on a date.
However, as much as it terrifies, I think putting myself out there helps build my confidence -- or at least forces to me ignore my anxiety in place of the adrenaline pounding through my veins.
The Down and Dirty: A bunch of us are celebrating a friend's birthday in Old Town Pasadena. We started off the night dancing at a club but now we've settled in at a kitschy-bordering-on-ghastly-
I was laughing with my table when my eyes swept across the bar and met with someone else's. Scruffily cute brunette with some indie rock influence. Oh, hello...
Flanked by two friends, he was making his way through the bar when we made eye contact -- the sort of silent connection that practically vibrates with the electricity pulsing between you two. Wow. He looked away but, fueled by unabashed curiosity and unfounded courage, I maintained my gaze. A second later he glanced back up at me and we engaged in what I could only eloquently describe as "eye fucking" before walking out of sight.
My hand shot out and ripped Kamikaze from her seat. "We're going for a drink. Now."
I snagged a Hoegaarden and we made a lap around the place when Eye Sex and friends came in from the other direction. Kamikaze and I stalled at the end of the bar, pretending to not so obviously be on the prowl. Eye Sex quickly looked over and loitered close by. Every now and then I'd glance over but that familiar heart-pounding, stutter-inducing, train wreck-causing anxiety was slowly seeping in. I was losing my nerve and had to turn away.
Kamikaze offered to take the lead but after Daywalker stole my thunder with Blackjacket, I wanted -- no, needed -- to prove that I had the gusto to make the first move, if only to myself. I wanted to be that girl.
Kamikaze: Okay. You need to make a move soon because he keeps looking over here and I have to awkwardly look away.
I had no idea what to say but I was positive that dawdling would only fluster me more. I convinced myself that my sharp tongue and lightening-speed wits would spring to action in this situation. Kamikaze sashayed past the group. I followed but stopped short next to Eye Sex.
Daily Virgin: Hi. What's your name?
That was the best I could come up with. Ugh...
BUT! It worked! He smiled and we started talking. Kamikaze and Eye Sex's friends all bowed out to leave us to our own devices. And you know what? I haven't had such an easy initial conversation in a loooooong time. Electricity like whoa.
Daily Virgin: I'm sorry, I'm usually not so bold but I thought you looked like an interesting person to talk to.
Eye Sex: Yeah, I noticed you earlier. And just right now my friends were trying to get me to leave but I kept telling them to wait a little bit longer.
He flashed a smile and nodded towards the end of the bar where Kamikaze and I loitered earlier. Um. SCORE. I seriously love it when two people feel the same connection and are sort of unashamed about it in that fuck-high-school-politics kind of way.
Eventually the last call lights were thrown on and Kamikaze ran over to tell me that our party was leaving but Eye Sex made no real move to say goodbye. After stalling for as long as I could, I told him I had to go lest I wanted a drunk, angry mob of friends dragging me out of here. At this, he whipped out his iPhone and I gave him my digits. He leaned in for a hug, saying how it was great to meet me, and I was more than happy to oblige.
The Afterglow: I may or may not have high-fived a friend when I met my party outside (Answer: I did). I was feeling like a freakin' baller from the adrenaline rush of it all.
While we stood on the corner waiting for the pedestrian light, Daywalker fastened herself to my side to grill me on Eye Sex. What's his name? What does he do? Jumping his bones any time soon?
I answered honestly yet offhandedly as I was absorbed in texting but couldn't wipe the smug smirk off my face. After all, there was totally something electric happening. As we swaggered across the street, some dude bumped into my other side.
"Oh, I'm sorry," facetiously chimed a familiar voice.
Oh no. No no no. A slow, agonizing turn of my head revealed Eye Sex nonchalantly sauntering next to me with an amused smile playing on his lips, "Oh hey, funny running into you out here," he jested.
So um, if he doesn't think I'm some sort of weird, gushing, name-demanding gawker of a girl, I'd be pretty content with a text or call from him. I didn't ask for his number so the ball is in his court.
Just when I think I'm mastering the art of seduction, the universe always finds a way to make me figuratively fall flat on my face. Note taken, asshole.