- Joined
- Sep 27, 2013
- Messages
- 292
I’ve been limiting my posts so that you all only see things from me that add value to this space we’re using. Although this post is long, it’s mostly dialogue and shouldn’t take you long to read. I felt it was worth sharing with you because it shows progress in my inner game, how a habit of approaching creates a needy little approach monster in your brain (a good thing), and the value of postive reference experiences. I don't think I would have done this if I hadn't had the confidence of three earlier successful approaches. This might be encouraging to fellow noobs.
This post will illustrate my battle with internally held limiting beliefs and bad habit of not escalating interactions by asking for contact information. Funnily enough, I’d just gotten digits from one approach only a few hours earlier. In the early A.M. I had already aborted needlessly once and so resolved not to let it happen again. In this case, I screwed up and then went back on the field for the “00:00 Hail Mary.” For you guys out there who also struggle with this, please use this post as motivation to push despite your occasional discomfort. As Chase said, don’t sacrifice making a connection with one interested girl for preventing 60 seconds of an uninterested gal’s social awkwardness.
Start.
I see what I believe to be a quite attractive, fair-skinned brunette at the desk. She has long shiny hair, large eyes, and a nearly flawless complexion. She doesn't appear to be wearing make up. One of Chase’s articles pops into my head, “forget ‘hot,’ she's just ‘cute,’” I try to remind myself.
Right.
I see what I believe to be a rather cute, fair-skinned brunette at the desk. I remind myself that like all people, attractive women take stinky poops that smell like the living dead and can stain a bathroom stall with horrid doodoo-smell forever.
Me: “Hey how’s it going.” From this point on my eye contact is airtight.
Her: “I’m alright. How are you?” She maintains eye contact
Me: “Good, I just got back from [censored] so I’m a happy camper. Ready to just chill for a little bit.” I imagine her absolute wrecking a public toilet.
Her: “Oh, cool.” She nods. I think on my feet while maintaining eye contact (something I’ve been actively practicing) and follow up with some fodder.
Me: “What are you up to? Looks like an intense study session.” The scent lasts for a lifetime.
Her: “Yeah, haha I’m writing a paper.” She nods emphatically. Our eye contact is still airtight. Internally, I am shocked by how relaxed it feels for me to maintain my gaze. Practice has been paying off. Before this, I was seeing girls squint as they struggled to continue eye contact with me.
Me: “Hm, the struggle is real *smile*. What’s it for?” Personal question here was asked a little early. Although she doesn’t punish me for it (remember I am still very much a stranger at this point), I now believe a playful guess at what she was writing about would have been more appropriate.
Her: “Haha, it’s for my cell bio class.”
Here is the first break in eye contact. She looks down.
Me: “Oh, cell bio? Interesting, very interesting…I’m guessing you want to be a doctor and work with children then? You strike me as that type.”
Her: “Yeah! Woah, how did you?...well yeah I’m not totally sure yet but that’s what I’m looking at so far.” She seems dazed, as if I couldn’t have gotten that one right. I smile knowingly.
Me: “Mhm. Does that mean you have a very nurturing side?”
Her: “Well…eh…not really..” She hems and haws. I sense that she cares not for ankle biting diaper farms.
Me: “Interesting…so you’re more about becoming a world famous doctor. The expert. I respect that.”
Her: “Yeah” she nods effusively. Her relaxed, solid eye contact returns.
[pause]
Me: “You’ve got a very interesting look about you..It seems foreign…Syria?”
Her: “No, but you’re close though…It’s in Europe.”
Me: “Spanish?”
Her: “Nope.”
Me: “Hmmm”
Her: “You can tell by my name” She shows me her name tag
Me: “Hm, [insert her name]. I’m drawing a blank. You gotta throw me a line here.”
Her: “I’m Greek. Well my family is from there.” I notice here that she has incredibly white teeth. I wonder if they’re real.
Me: “Oh I got a chance to meet some Greek people before in a vacation to Eastern Europe. They were visiting. They were all very nice.” She nods while we just stare at each other.
[pause]
Me: “Oh, so do you do the whole breaking dishes thing?” *I motion as if enthusiastically pitching fine china* (a joke from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which I assume she’s seen)
Her: “*smile* yah…when I’m over there in Greece” She gives me a look of pure amusement. My response is a smile
Her: “Do you live here?”
Me: “No, I just came to chill and chat you know.” *Complete sarcasm*
Her: “Yeah, I figured haha”
Here, another resident approaches the table.
Me: “Well nice chatting with you, [censored].”
Her: “Bye”
You all probably groaned at this point. Keep reading. I walk away while watching her and see her address the resident with a bitter smile. Walking to the door, I immediately begin to flagellate myself mentally. She surely expected me to request her contact info. I just got a number via daygame on the way there; why on earth didn’t I take hers? Admittedly, I found this particular girl to be cuter, so maybe this made me reticent.
I felt my mind begin to rationalize: she works in the building, too close quarters, etc, etc. As I reach my room I sit in awe of my foolishness. I think of Mr. Rob. I think of the number close earlier today. I think of the lunch date I set up for later this week. While studying, the thought of her bitter smile gnaws at my conscience like an earwig, demanding attention. In truth you guys, I felt as though I’d let her down.
I steele my resolve and make the decision. I act an hour later.
I get up and walk back out to the lobby and feign as if I’m about to leave. As I’m walking by she doesn’t look up.
Me: “Oh hey, still grinding away here?” *said rather loudly* I notice the group chatting about 20 feet away. My pulse quickens.
Her: “Oh yeah, haha, still going.” I see slight surprise and an almost frightened smile. I feel myself a little more nervous this time as we converse.
Me: “Yes, the struggle is very real. Do you do yoga?”
Her: “Huh, no, why?” She looks incredibly confused and instantly hooked, waiting for my response. I break eye contact to the side for a moment and think. I then return my gaze.
Me: “I read an article the other day saying that people with very vibrant skin either do yoga or are very religious.” A white lie, based on the truth. Those who are religious tend to have better skin due to a positive immune response from closer social connections.
Her: “Ohh, wow. Well, no I don’t do yoga.” She shakes her head
Me: “Oh, so your all about Jesus then!”
Her: “Eh, well…er kind of…I am a little bit…yeah” She hems and haws
Me: “So you’re an atheist then.” Deadpan.
Her: “No, I’m just a little religious.” She grimaces, as if this might be the wrong answer.
Me: “So you can give me tips on better skin then?” I say this with a chuckle.
Her: “Hahaha no, sorry can’t help you with that.”
Me: “Darn, I was hoping you could help me on my quest for better skin.”
Her: “Hahahaha”
At this crucial moment, the upswing, the phone rings.
Me: “Wow, you’re just everything today. The desk , the phone..”
Her: *smiles as she answers*
A mail man enters as she puts the phone down. She proceeds to sign - a process that takes no more than a second, yet feels like an agonizing eternity. I almost run away again but convince myself to hang on.
Mailman: “What you doing waiting here for so long man” I give him a blank, expressionless stare and stay in place. He breaks eye contact and issues no further comments. He leaves after she signs.
Me: “Hey, so I’m enjoying our little chats – “
Her: “Yeah, is this what you normally do?”
Me: “Yes, of course, I like to chat people up. Only the nice looking ones though. You seemed friendly.” She smiles but then immediately looks away and
becomes unusually interested in the elevator. There’s a pause as I simply look at her turned head. In the past week, I’d been experimenting with direct, so I didn’t panic. Usually after a direct comment, girls respond to me by smiling sheepishly and looking away or pulling out a phone. Maybe it’s to break the tension? Who knows. I wait. She turns back and smiles at me.
Her: “You’re friendly too. Are you a [censored]?”
Me: “Nope, do I give off that vibe?”
Her: “No, no, I just assumed since most of the people here are.”
Me: “Hm, what about you, I’m guessing….[censored]”
Her: “Nope! I’m a [censored]”
Me: “Ah, you got me!”
Her: “Haha, yep.”
Here, my heart pumps a little harder. I know what must be done. I do it.
Me: “Tell you what, I’d like to chat more, but I don’t want to keep you occupied when you ought to be at work. Let’s have lunch sometime.”’
Her: “Okay sure”
Me: “Ah, I don’t have my phone”
Her: *she looks at hers on the table*
I consider it but instead think it better to get hers instead.
Me: “Do you have a pen and paper”
Her: “Yeah” She tears off a piece of paper and writes down her digits.
I walked away from this one very pleased with myself fellas. Regardless of her response then or later, it’s confirmation that I’ve drawn closer to social freedom and can now focus more on the target of conversation, rather than negligible, irrational worries. Please feel free to critique the interaction; however please do not provide advice on steps to take moving forward. I’d rather blow things terribly and learn from those mistakes first, then make a hilarious FU report.
Happy Tuesday, playas. Mr. Rob, shout out to you homie! Doing dat homework aha *silly rapper laugh* And Marty, thanks for the encouragement on my journal, mate.
G.P.
This post will illustrate my battle with internally held limiting beliefs and bad habit of not escalating interactions by asking for contact information. Funnily enough, I’d just gotten digits from one approach only a few hours earlier. In the early A.M. I had already aborted needlessly once and so resolved not to let it happen again. In this case, I screwed up and then went back on the field for the “00:00 Hail Mary.” For you guys out there who also struggle with this, please use this post as motivation to push despite your occasional discomfort. As Chase said, don’t sacrifice making a connection with one interested girl for preventing 60 seconds of an uninterested gal’s social awkwardness.
Start.
I see what I believe to be a quite attractive, fair-skinned brunette at the desk. She has long shiny hair, large eyes, and a nearly flawless complexion. She doesn't appear to be wearing make up. One of Chase’s articles pops into my head, “forget ‘hot,’ she's just ‘cute,’” I try to remind myself.
Right.
I see what I believe to be a rather cute, fair-skinned brunette at the desk. I remind myself that like all people, attractive women take stinky poops that smell like the living dead and can stain a bathroom stall with horrid doodoo-smell forever.
Me: “Hey how’s it going.” From this point on my eye contact is airtight.
Her: “I’m alright. How are you?” She maintains eye contact
Me: “Good, I just got back from [censored] so I’m a happy camper. Ready to just chill for a little bit.” I imagine her absolute wrecking a public toilet.
Her: “Oh, cool.” She nods. I think on my feet while maintaining eye contact (something I’ve been actively practicing) and follow up with some fodder.
Me: “What are you up to? Looks like an intense study session.” The scent lasts for a lifetime.
Her: “Yeah, haha I’m writing a paper.” She nods emphatically. Our eye contact is still airtight. Internally, I am shocked by how relaxed it feels for me to maintain my gaze. Practice has been paying off. Before this, I was seeing girls squint as they struggled to continue eye contact with me.
Me: “Hm, the struggle is real *smile*. What’s it for?” Personal question here was asked a little early. Although she doesn’t punish me for it (remember I am still very much a stranger at this point), I now believe a playful guess at what she was writing about would have been more appropriate.
Her: “Haha, it’s for my cell bio class.”
Here is the first break in eye contact. She looks down.
Me: “Oh, cell bio? Interesting, very interesting…I’m guessing you want to be a doctor and work with children then? You strike me as that type.”
Her: “Yeah! Woah, how did you?...well yeah I’m not totally sure yet but that’s what I’m looking at so far.” She seems dazed, as if I couldn’t have gotten that one right. I smile knowingly.
Me: “Mhm. Does that mean you have a very nurturing side?”
Her: “Well…eh…not really..” She hems and haws. I sense that she cares not for ankle biting diaper farms.
Me: “Interesting…so you’re more about becoming a world famous doctor. The expert. I respect that.”
Her: “Yeah” she nods effusively. Her relaxed, solid eye contact returns.
[pause]
Me: “You’ve got a very interesting look about you..It seems foreign…Syria?”
Her: “No, but you’re close though…It’s in Europe.”
Me: “Spanish?”
Her: “Nope.”
Me: “Hmmm”
Her: “You can tell by my name” She shows me her name tag
Me: “Hm, [insert her name]. I’m drawing a blank. You gotta throw me a line here.”
Her: “I’m Greek. Well my family is from there.” I notice here that she has incredibly white teeth. I wonder if they’re real.
Me: “Oh I got a chance to meet some Greek people before in a vacation to Eastern Europe. They were visiting. They were all very nice.” She nods while we just stare at each other.
[pause]
Me: “Oh, so do you do the whole breaking dishes thing?” *I motion as if enthusiastically pitching fine china* (a joke from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which I assume she’s seen)
Her: “*smile* yah…when I’m over there in Greece” She gives me a look of pure amusement. My response is a smile
Her: “Do you live here?”
Me: “No, I just came to chill and chat you know.” *Complete sarcasm*
Her: “Yeah, I figured haha”
Here, another resident approaches the table.
Me: “Well nice chatting with you, [censored].”
Her: “Bye”
You all probably groaned at this point. Keep reading. I walk away while watching her and see her address the resident with a bitter smile. Walking to the door, I immediately begin to flagellate myself mentally. She surely expected me to request her contact info. I just got a number via daygame on the way there; why on earth didn’t I take hers? Admittedly, I found this particular girl to be cuter, so maybe this made me reticent.
I felt my mind begin to rationalize: she works in the building, too close quarters, etc, etc. As I reach my room I sit in awe of my foolishness. I think of Mr. Rob. I think of the number close earlier today. I think of the lunch date I set up for later this week. While studying, the thought of her bitter smile gnaws at my conscience like an earwig, demanding attention. In truth you guys, I felt as though I’d let her down.
I steele my resolve and make the decision. I act an hour later.
I get up and walk back out to the lobby and feign as if I’m about to leave. As I’m walking by she doesn’t look up.
Me: “Oh hey, still grinding away here?” *said rather loudly* I notice the group chatting about 20 feet away. My pulse quickens.
Her: “Oh yeah, haha, still going.” I see slight surprise and an almost frightened smile. I feel myself a little more nervous this time as we converse.
Me: “Yes, the struggle is very real. Do you do yoga?”
Her: “Huh, no, why?” She looks incredibly confused and instantly hooked, waiting for my response. I break eye contact to the side for a moment and think. I then return my gaze.
Me: “I read an article the other day saying that people with very vibrant skin either do yoga or are very religious.” A white lie, based on the truth. Those who are religious tend to have better skin due to a positive immune response from closer social connections.
Her: “Ohh, wow. Well, no I don’t do yoga.” She shakes her head
Me: “Oh, so your all about Jesus then!”
Her: “Eh, well…er kind of…I am a little bit…yeah” She hems and haws
Me: “So you’re an atheist then.” Deadpan.
Her: “No, I’m just a little religious.” She grimaces, as if this might be the wrong answer.
Me: “So you can give me tips on better skin then?” I say this with a chuckle.
Her: “Hahaha no, sorry can’t help you with that.”
Me: “Darn, I was hoping you could help me on my quest for better skin.”
Her: “Hahahaha”
At this crucial moment, the upswing, the phone rings.
Me: “Wow, you’re just everything today. The desk , the phone..”
Her: *smiles as she answers*
A mail man enters as she puts the phone down. She proceeds to sign - a process that takes no more than a second, yet feels like an agonizing eternity. I almost run away again but convince myself to hang on.
Mailman: “What you doing waiting here for so long man” I give him a blank, expressionless stare and stay in place. He breaks eye contact and issues no further comments. He leaves after she signs.
Me: “Hey, so I’m enjoying our little chats – “
Her: “Yeah, is this what you normally do?”
Me: “Yes, of course, I like to chat people up. Only the nice looking ones though. You seemed friendly.” She smiles but then immediately looks away and
becomes unusually interested in the elevator. There’s a pause as I simply look at her turned head. In the past week, I’d been experimenting with direct, so I didn’t panic. Usually after a direct comment, girls respond to me by smiling sheepishly and looking away or pulling out a phone. Maybe it’s to break the tension? Who knows. I wait. She turns back and smiles at me.
Her: “You’re friendly too. Are you a [censored]?”
Me: “Nope, do I give off that vibe?”
Her: “No, no, I just assumed since most of the people here are.”
Me: “Hm, what about you, I’m guessing….[censored]”
Her: “Nope! I’m a [censored]”
Me: “Ah, you got me!”
Her: “Haha, yep.”
Here, my heart pumps a little harder. I know what must be done. I do it.
Me: “Tell you what, I’d like to chat more, but I don’t want to keep you occupied when you ought to be at work. Let’s have lunch sometime.”’
Her: “Okay sure”
Me: “Ah, I don’t have my phone”
Her: *she looks at hers on the table*
I consider it but instead think it better to get hers instead.
Me: “Do you have a pen and paper”
Her: “Yeah” She tears off a piece of paper and writes down her digits.
I walked away from this one very pleased with myself fellas. Regardless of her response then or later, it’s confirmation that I’ve drawn closer to social freedom and can now focus more on the target of conversation, rather than negligible, irrational worries. Please feel free to critique the interaction; however please do not provide advice on steps to take moving forward. I’d rather blow things terribly and learn from those mistakes first, then make a hilarious FU report.
Happy Tuesday, playas. Mr. Rob, shout out to you homie! Doing dat homework aha *silly rapper laugh* And Marty, thanks for the encouragement on my journal, mate.
G.P.
)You left her wanting more and she expected to never see you again and then you pop up an hour later like super nonchalantly then ask her 