Terrifying Encounters: Asking the girl out.

This is a post of mine before I discovered the manosphere and the ideas of TRP.

The hardest situations in life for me are still the one’s that supposedly shouldn’t be hard; asking girls out. It’s daunting, terrifying, and downright makes leg shake and my voice wobble.   Every-time this happens, I continue to lose man-cards. I’ve already lost so many of said man-cards, that I’m certain I’ve ran out.

I of course blame this on improper upbringing, a lack of discipline, and a personality dominated by a will to avoid any situation that might become uncomfortable. In layman’s terms, I lack a pair.  They say that , “Where there is a will, there a way.”  Currently I lack most certainly lack the will, as well the way.

See the girl, talk to the girl, get the girl – right? Well, not exactly. Or more precisely, I have no idea how to go about getting said girl. Many thoughts of what to say, pickup lines to drop, and confident stares and eyebrow posturing have not landed me closer to alleviating my suffering. Pick-up lines you say? Sure, I’ve thought of a few lines of Shakespearean brilliance.

“Hey, there. Daddy’s home.”  …. Awkward silence. Possible imminent pain in the facial region of my jaw. Extremely irate boyfriend who suddenly appears from the shadows. Brutal humiliation and laughter.   Well, it could really be worth it if I got that on camera, but there must be a better way for the romantic in me.    (Yes, that line is from How I Met Your Mother.)

My immediate assertion of brilliance is that pickup lines don’t usually work and in a better and more compassionate reality they would never work. If they do, my first instinct is to run away because you know that it’s bad.  (Insert catchy jingle)

I recall one of my buddies being challenged to get a girl’s phone number in the mall.  Some sort of bet was made, we kept walking assuming none of us would talk to her, and we concluded she was another one lost to the perfect men – that meaning specifically me.

Suddenly my buddy comes back with her phone number. My first reaction  was similar to that of 13 year old nerdy boy with a shocked look and serious tone,  “Did anybody see how did he did it?” 

The mystery of how he did it has not been solved to this day, but initial clues, careful observation, and astute guess work leads me to conclude that he took the first and most important step – talking to her.  I’ve gotten past that step with plenty of girls, it’s just that I can’t pull the trigger and drop a simple, “We should hang out sometime.”

So what it is it that trips me up and stops me from asking a simple question like that?  Am I afraid of rejection? What makes it so uncomfortable for me? I suppose I’m not one to jeopardize friendships by asking friends of mine on a date. However, in a careful and accurate pyscho-analysis of myself, I realize that there is more to it.

What exactly is that?  To be vague, uncertain, but honest;  I’m not entirely sure. However, where there’s a will, there’s a way – or something like that. Eventually I will hone in on that part of my nature which keeps interfering with getting the girl and kick it in the arse! “British accent.” 

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