If you’ve read my blog before or know me in real life, you know that I am not much of a go-getter when it comes to hitting on girls or trying to get their phone numbers. My quiet and seemingly unemotional persona caters to more of a love-him-once-you-get-to-know-him type of courting. And I’m fine with that.
But that’s the problem — the fact that I’m fine with it.
Because the real world isn’t like college.
In college, a missed connection is simply the first step to a relationship. The only piece of information needed is that the girl actually goes to the same school as you. At that point, it is almost customary to not exchange information. As a part of the courting process, it was better to leave them hanging… to let her become a little detective for the next week to find out about you (and you, her). Then you would find out what party she was going to be at the next weekend, where you would make an appearance.
And if you didn’t see her then, you knew you would have countless opportunities throughout the year.
College was filled with second and third chances, and my type of personality thrived on such a scenario.
But in the real world, a missed connection is nothing more than a missed connection. On a night out, it is a guarantee that I only have one shot to find a way to continue communication with a girl, and when I simply don’t try, the only thing I am left with is regret.
The regret of never knowing more about this girl, this person who was pretty or interesting enough to catch my eye. The regret of never knowing if she was actually interested in me, too, and just waiting for me to approach her, since it is the guy’s duty. The regret of never knowing if the two of us would hit it off on our first date, and maybe eventually turning into something more.
The regret of being a wimp.
It is something that I have been thinking about recently — all of those missed opportunities that can be called “missed” because of my hesitancy to be aggressive. Or more accurately, because of my lack of courage.
And it was something that was at the forefront of my mind when I was at the Phillies game on Mother’s Day and a beautiful girl sat down next to me.
I was instantly determined to get her number, and I knew that I would have nine innings to do so.
But not only would I have to get over my typical insecurities, I would also have to get past the guy who just sat down to her right and handed her a beer.
Oh, and I’d also have to work my “game” while under the close observation of the woman that I brought to the game, who was sitting to my left.
Needless to say, this would be tricky.
Tune in tomorrow to find out what happened.