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I’m no Dr. Love. I don’t claim to be. I’ve found his advice very insightful and valuable in the game of romance between men and women. He knows a lot when it comes to the battle of the sexes.
I’m no Dr. Love. I don’t claim to be. I’ve found his advice very insightful and valuable in the game of romance between men and women. He knows a lot when it comes to the battle of the sexes.
I, on the other hand, have no clue as to what to do around a girl and usually end up making a fool of myself trying to get one to talk to me. I’ve never fancied myself to be a sort of a pimp in any form.
So with all that in mind, you can imagine my panic and chagrin as I went about approaching a girl in my public speaking class and asking for her number. This is a lot harder than it looks. Well, for me it is anyway. See, I have a dual personality at times. The majority of the time I put on this confident, somewhat arrogant front with a look that all is calm and I’m in control of everything. When really on the inside I’m panicking out of my mind and I’m shaking in trepidation at what to say in order to not look like a fool. Call it cute if you like, girls; I feel like a wuss.
So here is the setting. This tall, slender, strikingly attractive girl walks into class one day and immediately I’m petrified. We make eye contact a few times during class, and there is always that thought of what she’s thinking, if she’s thinking anything at all about me. I hate these mind games when it comes to dating. It’s like a chess match from across the room as you study each other: body language, eye contact, what they may be thinking, everything. It’s too complicated. It makes me want to get on the desk and yell at the top of my lungs, “YOU’RE HOT, I’M HOT, LET’S QUIT THIS MIND GAME CRAP AND GO OUT!” Oh, if it were only that simple. And so the charade continues.
I let day after day pass away into nothing as I consistently debate in my mind what to do. Do I approach her? Do I say hi to her? Do I keep up my pattern of across-the-room eye glances? What? This is so frustrating. I think one of the main reasons I struggle with this whole dating/women concept is that it’s been completely void of my life for the past two years. I haven’t given it a second thought. Therefore, my skills are diminished.
To compensate for this loss, I consult one of their own as to what to do. I have a very good friend on the inside (by on the inside I mean that she’s a girl) who was willing to offer some assistance as to how to address this problem.
“Go up and talk to her,” she prodded. “Girls love it when a guy just comes up to them and wants to get to know them.”
Ha! Easy for you to say, you don’t know what it’s like from a guy’s perspective: the nervousness, the shaky hands, the I-wonder-what-will-happen-if-she-turns-me-down thoughts that circle your mind. I’m probably better off quoting Jim Carrey and telling her that I desperately want to make love to a schoolboy.
And so the days pass. The eye contact contest continues. Girls, you don’t see what you’re doing to us when you just play those head games and then leave it at that, doing no more to tell us that you’re interested in pursuing something. You’re killing us! It’s as if you’re letting us know that you’re interested, then pulling out at the last second, saying “Gotcha! You thought I was going to give you a sign that I wanted to go out, but no! I’m leaving all the guesswork up to you.”
This is such an unfair disadvantage for the men.
Each day after I back out in apprehension, I talk myself into talking to her next time at class. Next time it will be easier. It never is. Finally, my dear friend with all the lady advice told me to be a man and just talk to her. OK, fine. I can do that. Easier said than done.
So, one day after class I wait for her. The entire time I’m waging an internal battle, one side standing firm, the other tearing me away from talking to her. She walks out of class, here she comes, what do I say?
“Hi,” I weakly spill out. Oh man I totally messed that one up. We make small talk with one another as we walk to class. Things seem to be going good so far. OK, moment of truth, we’re about to go our separate ways.
“So, I was thinking that maybe you and I could get together and go do something sometime. Would it be all right if I gave you a call sometime?” I got it out, I can’t believe I just said that, she’s probably going to laugh hysterically, pull out my still beating heart and scream “HAHAHA! I got you good, didn’t I, you worthless piece of slime! Of course you can’t call me. Now get away from me before I vomit in disgust! I am woman, hear me roar!”
Prepare for the worst.
“Of course you can,” she replies. “I’d really like that.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid, I knew I shouldn’t have asked for her number. I’m such an idiot. I… what? Did she just say yes? Great day in the morning! I am on top of St. George! SHE SAID YES! I hurriedly yet smoothly scribble down her number and calmly wink at her saying I’ll call her. We go our separate ways, she to class, me almost into a Nissan Altima. I’m stuck on cloud nine not paying attention where I’m going.
That wasn’t that hard. Why did I make it such a big deal? I can actually do this.
And so the story continues. Who knows where this will all end up? Now I have to muster the courage to actually call her up and ask her out. And there begins an entirely new set of worries. But don’t bother me with that. For now, I’m the king of the world.
Brock Bybee | Dixie Sun Opinion Editor
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