where the hell is she?..
taking a little detour from the discussion of a partners past and the 'chasing amy' effect (one of my all time favourite films by the way... way more than a 7/10 for me!), I want to focus today's post on why I can never get anyone to go out with me in the first place.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some spotty faced hairy backed trainspotting uber geek sitting alone in a room in his parents house watching soft core, wondering what breasts really feel like (I hate trains and it's my house)
I go out very regularly... pretty much with the sole intent of getting hammered and eyeing up nubile young girls. And therein, my friends lies my problem. I look but never approach, and rarely talk to. I'm pretty sure that I'm known round these parts as "that scary guy that stares at everyone".
See, women are an odd bunch. Most spend hours shopping for the sexiest clothes, obsessing about their hair, worrying about their weight, coordinating their make up. They make sure that they look as stunning as possible to go to a pub or a club.
Then they stand there with these clothes that say "oh yeah baby... bring it ooonnn" and a face that says "I'll fucking stab you if try it!"
So, with all this on my mind, I spent last weekend with a variety of my closest friends, most of which are married... and decided "fuck this, ditch the shy guy act grow a pair and take action..." and so set out to approach a particular girl that has looked less likely to stab me than most others for the past XX months...
bitch seems to have gone on holiday... love's such a cunt...
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some spotty faced hairy backed trainspotting uber geek sitting alone in a room in his parents house watching soft core, wondering what breasts really feel like (I hate trains and it's my house)
I go out very regularly... pretty much with the sole intent of getting hammered and eyeing up nubile young girls. And therein, my friends lies my problem. I look but never approach, and rarely talk to. I'm pretty sure that I'm known round these parts as "that scary guy that stares at everyone".
See, women are an odd bunch. Most spend hours shopping for the sexiest clothes, obsessing about their hair, worrying about their weight, coordinating their make up. They make sure that they look as stunning as possible to go to a pub or a club.
Then they stand there with these clothes that say "oh yeah baby... bring it ooonnn" and a face that says "I'll fucking stab you if try it!"
So, with all this on my mind, I spent last weekend with a variety of my closest friends, most of which are married... and decided "fuck this, ditch the shy guy act grow a pair and take action..." and so set out to approach a particular girl that has looked less likely to stab me than most others for the past XX months...
bitch seems to have gone on holiday... love's such a cunt...
posted by Anonymous | 6:27 pm
This is sadly reminiscent of my own antics – I'm fine with girls once I’m bantering with them (through an introduction, or whatever), but it’s the approach I can’t figure out. I'm shot down by a combination of fear, incompetence and her death stare before I get within spratting distance. Cocaine is my preferred solution to this.
Far, far, far easier said than done.