Superman That Hoe

I think I erred slightly in naming this blog because this place is hardly a happy refuge. This blog has very quickly become A Depressing Storehouse for Hopeless Thoughts. Then again what else was this ever going to become except a catalogue for what's wrong with me? I don't know. Enough of that, here's our next item up for auction.

Today is about the ladies. It's about me interacting with ladies, or not interacting with them, the scenario that plays itself out more frequently. I have troubles with the ladies. I am shy, though I try to put up enough bluster to hide it and I'm no good in social situations, though again I like to think I can fake it ok. Talking to women is just a subset of a larger problem, "talking to people in general", but one must narrow the focus if one hopes to make progress.

I went clubbing on Friday for what I will call the first time, though let the record show that I did work at a nightclub very briefly one high school summer, receiving payment in cash of course because a sixteen year old working the tables of a club doesn't quite work. That was an awful job, start at 10 and finish at four in the morning and then blow all the money I earned off tips on cab fare because no self respecting subway would be up that late and what really bothered me was having to tip the taxi driver with my tip money. Help a brother out you know? The only saving grace was that it was not a very successful night club (this was still post-SARS Toronto and people were still iffy on leaving the house) and so one Saturday the owner pulled me aside off the near empty dance floor half way through my shift handed me half a nights pay and sent me on my way with the unspoken understanding that I wasn't needed any more.

That's my night club story. There was going to be more, but this will act as a good life lesson for you. The lesson is never expect anything and you won't get hurt, ever, by anyone.

The clubbing was ok, I downed a can of Red Bull in stupid short amount of time because dumbass, no outside drinks allowed and then we were in the club and it occurred to me finally, that I had no idea how to approach women. There was just this gap in the process that I didn't understand and I couldn't seem to pick up from the guys around me even after that can of pure energy and three or four expensive, but small drinks and I don't know what it is that makes me so inept around people with breasts. My best guess, I don't really know, is that it stems from a hard lack of any real experience with women and that this lack of experience is what is keeping me from gaining any experience which is a stupid feedback loop that is not going to get me anywhere. Well, it's not going to get me anywhere in a club where it's all about the dominant male and taking what you want.

What I couldn't grasp was how the ladies felt about strange dudes approaching them and just getting down to dancing. Does that work? These two guys, and they really made my night, they approached Regina like stealth bombers and then all of a sudden it was like A Night At The Roxbury playing out right in front of me and you have to give these guys high fives just for pulling it off even if they were awful and left Regina weirded out, which is the thing because I am a Bad Dancer who can't seem to form any permanent relationship with the beat, making me just another white guy with rank moves that barely qualify as ironically funny which does not impress women unless they are already your friend in which case it is far too late anyway.

Clubs aren't for me, is the lesson I guess, but it doesn't get me any closer to a woman, which is what I could do with right now if just so I could get that monkey off my back, you know? There are a few monkeys crowding on there actually, and makes for an unattractive hunch. I need to get laid, I think.

Horatio