Sunday, October 02, 2005

Why Being Sober is Sometimes Bad

Back in July, the ex and I took a class offered by our local outdoor outfitter. Even though I was dating the ex at the time, I was totally smitten with the instructor. I almost inflicted life-threatening injuries upon him by accident, but I'll save that story for another time.

Last month, after having broken up with the ex, I ran into cute instructor guy at the store. We chatted for a bit, and then he asked, “So, that guy you were with, was that your boyfriend?” To which I replied, “Well, he was at the time…”

“Oh,” said very cute, very muscular instructor man, “Oooohh….”

Now, at this point, I should have said, “Yes, I’m COMPLETELY available at the moment. 100% single. Unattached in every possible way. And I have no one to do fun outdoor activities with! What is a girl to do...want my number?”

As I’m sure you can guess, this did not happen. Because I cannot speak to cute men. I can speak to cute men if they are in some way unavailable (i.e. gay/married/dating someone/total jerks), but I can’t speak to cute men who are potential dating material.

Unless I’m drunk.

But I was completely sober at this point, so instead of throwing myself at this adorable man, I panicked. I babbled something incoherent and then ran away and pretended to be enthralled by their selection of wetsuit booties.

Which are pretty useful, but are by no means enthralling.

Yesterday I convinced one of my friends (the one with 527 match.com profile hits) to go to the store's annual fall sale with me to do some reconnaissance. While feigning fascination with a pair of waldies, she shamelessly checked out cute instructor guy. No ring, which I hadn’t noticed in my previous panicked state. So that’s something. Now I just have to get the courage to strike up a friendly conversation the next time I see him.

Perhaps I’ll consider getting liquored up first.

5 comments:

Schizohedron said...

Story of my life. I see an attractive single woman, try to think of something normal to say that has a conversational lifespan of longer than two sentences, and freeze up. Happens frequently on the train. I figure, they don't want some rotund weirdo talking to them while they're trapped in a metal box under the Hudson. Afterwards, I always curse myself for not saying anything. I should probably just cut loose and bank on their not carrying mace (or any other medieval weaponry).

Dem Soldier said...

Courage, just courage.........Just remember Nike ads.....just do it.......

Trish said...

You're right, you're right, I know you're right. Confidence is hot. Plus, I was a theatre major, damn it! I should be able at least act like I can carry on intelligent conversation.

Anonymous said...

Sober is bad. It isn't all it is cracked up to be. Bring on the booze and drink immoderately!

Anonymous said...

My husband and I met at a Halloween party. We chatted and I thought he was cute so I slipped him my phone number. I ragged on him later because he called me the next day, instead of making me wonder if he was going to call.

So, walk over to him. Tell him you would like the chance to get to know him better and slip your number into his hand. If he never calls, big deal. You can pretend like the incident never happened, but maybe he might call because he is impressed by your sassiness. By the way, make sure you put your name on the paper lest he resorts to calling you "Mulva."