The Transition: A Glimpse Into My World

This post contains sexual themes that some readers may find objectionable.

I've referred back to July 12th's post, The Death of Inhibition, many times. That fateful day has been proven as the single biggest breakthrough in my mission, and perhaps in my life. Since then, the blog has been undergoing a transition. The transition is mirroring the ongoing changes in my life: from being imprisoned by inhibition, to living an incredibly full, free life, with a level of enjoyment and satisfaction that could never be described in words. Last night was another great night in that transition.
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I had been sick with a cold all week. Still, though, I stayed up all night Friday, and woke up with a wicked headache Saturday morning. I usually go to a dance club Saturday nights, but the way I felt, I immediately started thinking there was no way that would happen tonight. And to make matters worse, I was feeling anxious. I had called Autumn on Wednesday, but failed to reach her, and she hadn't returned my call. I knew from experience not to dwell on it, yet I couldn't help but wonder about her. Things with us had been perfect, but I had thought of one disturbing question: What if she had found this blog? I had talked to her about a couple items on my 43things.com list, and it would have been possible for her to look one of them up, browse the 15 people in the group, and stumble upon my profile, where I have a link to this blog. Sure, it was a far-fetched, but that's the way my mind works.

During the day, I recalled that I didn't feel much better before going to SuperBar last time, and that had ended up being one of the best nights of my life. I've had a good night clubbing seemingly every other time I've gone, and my previous outing was a complete flop. I was due for a good night, and so I decided to go.
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I remembered how I made friends in line the last time, so I planned to talk to people while I waited for admission to SuperBar. I overheard a couple of girls behind me talking about the cover charge, so I explained that there were free passes available on the club's web site. It sounded good, but the conversation ended there.

In front of me were a man and two women. They stood out, because they looked to be in their 40's, while the vast majority of the crowd was 18-25. The man asked me a question about other clubs in the area, and it opened up the opportunity to talk to them. After that, I was comfortable making a couple of comments, and asking if they knew about the passes. I was off to a good start, and soon, the fun would begin inside.
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Inside, I was off to my usual start. I found an open spot on the main level dance floor, and started moving a little with the music. I tried to get my feet into it, but it didn't work. It was as if I had lead in my shoes. It was nervousness, but it didn't bother me. I knew the night was very, very young, and I just needed to warm up.

As I danced in my spot, a group of attractive girls came and stood about 15 feet away. Instead of making a move to dance with them, I made the mistake of just thinking about it. Soon, a fun guy danced his way over and started playing with them. They responded well, and I knew it should have been me. Still, though, I didn't kick myself too much: the night was very, very young, and I just needed to warm up.

And so, I started warming up. I started dancing closer and closer to the group - which a couple of other guys had already joined - using the presence of a cooling fan in front of them as a mental excuse to stay with them without dancing with any of the girls while I was still warming up. Eventually, some more girls came over, and one of them initiated some dancing with me. I wasn't interested in her, but soon decided that I should play along, just for fun.

I was starting to feel pretty good. I worked my way up the dance floor looking for a willing partner, but didn't get anything going. There were tons of women, but I was still too inhibited to be assertive enough to initiate anything. The usual mental hurdles were in place. For example, when I saw a group of girls dancing with each other, I felt as if they were doing so because they didn't want to dance with any guys. In general, I wasn't thinking about things properly. I felt as if I would somehow be bothering a girl by trying to dance with her. It was the usual messy roots of inhibition, but the night was young, and I was still warming up.
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I had entered the club around 11:00PM. Around 12:30AM, I had finished exploring the upper level, only to see the same results. I then decided to pull out my secret weapon: the sunglasses. Last time, they had seemed to turn me into a sort of Social Superhero.

As I headed past the bar, I recognized a cool guy wearing a U.S. Navy shirt. He had talked to my new friend Diego, of the U.S. Army Rangers, the last time I was at SuperBar. With my sunglasses, he recognized me immediately, and called over, "Hey, what's up man!" A couple of girls had stumbled by me earlier, saying "YOU!!" I hadn't understood it at the time, but I now realized that my spectacular performance at SuperBar a few weeks ago had made a lasting impression. I had friends here.

I returned to the main dance floor in my costume. In front of the fan, I found a group of 4 with a meager 1:3 guy-to-girl ratio. I wanted to dance with one of the two available women, but hesitated. After spending so much time thinking instead of doing, I felt very reluctant to finally make a move. It seemed like it would be awkward. Alas - the silly roots of inhibition. I stayed and danced with the group, with no contact, except for a few accidental bumps. They exchanged a few words in each others' ears, and I felt sure that they were comments about me not making a move to dance with them, even after the one I wanted turned around, probably to give me an opening.

Finally, I moved on.
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I found a group of 4 attractive girls dancing in a circle at the other end of the bar. The group situation was always the most intimidating, and the hardest for me to grasp.

As I gave in to thought instead of taking action, a guy came up and started dancing with one of the girls. Soon, two other guys jumped in, leaving one girl unattended. Suddenly, guys were swarming the group of girls, like sharks around prey. One particularly scary-looking guy who had been moving in on girls throughout the night (with far less inhibition than I) was rejected immediately. This caused the group to reshuffle, as women at the clubs typically move to dance with their friends to escape an unwanted male advance. A second guy was rejected as well, but things finally settled, as three of the girls found partners they wanted.

I thought to myself, "I'm the loser on this one." As I headed back towards the other end of the dance floor, I noticed the one girl who was left without a partner.

She was a short, extremely cute, extremely innocent-looking young Asian girl. I could tell from the "X" on her hand that she wasn't of legal drinking age, making her under 21. She looked 18, at most. She was extremely attractive, with a perfect, slim body, only rivaled in tightness by her jeans. Yet, she seemed shy. I thought to myself that there was no possible way she would dance with me. In fact, she might not dance with anyone.

Finally, I stopped thinking. I walked up before any other vultures could swoop in, and I simply offered her my hand.

She took it.

I moved with her a little as I held her hand, thinking that it would just be nice for me to do some innocent dancing with her so that she wouldn't be the odd one out in her group, and so that other guys wouldn't bother her trying to get physical.

After only seconds, I got one of the best surprises of my life.

She turned around, and backed up to me. She moved her body against mine, and lo and behold - this girl wanted to bump and grind! It was unbelievable. I complied, and put my hands around her waist. The more I touched her, the more excitedly she moved. She led me as she shook her behind. We squatted to the floor in rhythm, and she was sort of sitting on my lap, bouncing up and down as we slowly ascended. The more aroused I became, the more vibrantly she moved. I had perceived this girl as being too reserved to dance with anyone, and now, she was dry-humping me! I had to use a little restraint to avoid what would have turned this R-rated post into an X-rated one.

After a while, I realized that there was something different with this girl. I had gotten physical several times with other ladies at dance clubs, but they always left after a few songs. This girl was here to stay.

We were together so long that I tried almost every variation of dancing that I knew with her. At some point, the creepy guy came back and tried to dance with one of her friends, and her friend grabbed her away from me to escape. I danced alone for a couple of minutes, and then simply took my partner back.

Finally, I actually spoke to her. I jokingly asked if she'd rather dance with the creepy guy instead. When she said no, I asked if she was sure. After dancing for a while more, I asked her name.

Olivia.

I didn't offer mine, but she asked a moment later. I knew from research and experience that this was a sign of interest. A green light.

I looked down at Olivia as I continued to dance with her, and I was amazed at how sexy she was. It was mind-blowing.

By now, we had gotten extremely physical. I had done all of the usual things, raising her hands above her head, interlocking our fingers, and putting my hands around her waist. Now, though, it was time to try something new. It was time to escalate.

I had been with Olivia for a long time, and was oblivious to most of the other people in the club, but noticed a few things going on around me. The environment was hyper-sexual. A few feet from us, the hottest of her other friends was still dancing with the same guy who had initiated the frenzy. To our left, two of her female friends were making out. They were giving each other sweet, soft kisses. It wasn't the usual drunk girls randomly kissing: I could sense love and desire in their embrace.


Apparently, Olivia's friends grabbed more attention than I realized. I took a look on an area club scene web site while I was writing this post, and found a picture from their make-out session. Those are the actual girls, with Olivia wearing the floral top, just barely visible in the picture on the far bottom right.

This hyper-sexual environment was perfect for my escalation with Olivia.

When a song with the lyrics "hold you close" came on, I held Olivia tight around her stomach, pressing my body against hers. As we danced, I pressed my head against hers as tightly as I could, nuzzling her neck. I began to move my left hand down her thigh, and rubbed her passionately as I glanced over at her friends, who were still making out. As I rubbed Olivia's backside, I knew I was touching a girl in ways I had only imagined before this night. I became more aroused, and she became more vibrant. I knew that everything that felt good to me felt just as good to her, so I did whatever I wanted. I even put my hands inside of her shirt, caressing her flat, sexy bare belly and moving my hands upward to her bra.

As we continued to dance, I gave Olivia a kiss on the neck. It tasted like sweat, but it was sweet. It felt good. A little while later, I kissed her neck again. And again. Her friends continued to make out, and I continued to caress Olivia's body, nuzzle her, and passionately press my lips on her neck. At moments, I lost all awareness of the hundreds of other people in the building, as I closed my eyes and allowed myself to succumb to passion. We couldn't have been much closer to making love in the club.

Finally, her friends came over and said something to her: they were ready to leave. The music was still blasting, so she smiled and made a gesture to say goodbye to me. As she walked away, I said over the music, "Olivia, what's your phone number?" She made a polite gesture to decline.
I knew that I needed to have talked to her more, just so that we could find a little common ground. She had no way of knowing that I'm a brilliant engineer, or anything like that, so I understood. Earlier, I had actually asked if she wanted a drink, soda, water, or Red Bull - anything - so that we could go chat, but she really didn't want to stop dancing with me at the time.

I was happy nonetheless, realizing that I'm still learning, and improving fast. Next time, I'll make conversation while I dance with my partner.
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I looked at my watch. It was 2:05AM: I had been with Olivia for over an hour and a half.

Unbelievable.

I felt completely different than I had up until the moment I offered her my hand. Now, I was overwhelmed with confidence and excitement. I thought about calling it a night so that I could leave on a positive note, but then I realized that there was no need to quit while I was ahead. Feeling like this, I could do anything.

I didn't know what to do with the joyous feelings that were bursting from my soul, so I went for a walk around the club. Passing a girl getting ready to take a picture of a big group, I put up my hands and leapt sideways in front of the camera in an act of uninhibited playfulness.

People were starting to clear out, but I found a somewhat active group on the upstairs dance floor. I wanted to see how different things would be without the inhibition that stymied me repeatedly earlier in the night, so I decided to dance with one of the girls. Without stopping to think, I simply took her hand, and she danced with me for a couple minutes. Now, initiating these interactions was like lifting a feather. Earlier, it had been like lifting furniture.

I headed back downstairs, and saw a couple guys watching the main level dance floor from the balcony. I had an impulse to speak to them, so without thinking, I did. I asked assertively, "What's going on?" The guy closest to me responded enthusiastically, and I remembered that I was still in my Social Superhero uniform. I then inquired, "You're not dancing?" He told me that he couldn't dance, so I asked if he was getting any girls.

"Nah. It's not my night, man."

Still speaking in a fun, assertive tone, I told him that he has to dance with them. Then I said, "Watch me!" He smiled and said alright. I headed down to the dance floor, feeling 100% certain that I would be able to impress him.

By now, the floor was sparse. I danced my way up until I found an attractive Indian girl dancing alone, seemingly with her eyes closed. I danced with her for above 5 minutes, unsure whether or not she even realized it. She then commented that she's getting old, and I bantered back about it a little. When I couldn't hear what she was saying over the music, I put my hand around her waist and moved closer. I asked where her friends were, and we continued talking while dancing. It was the easiest thing in the world, and I turned around, looked up at the balcony, and waved to the guy for whom I was demonstrating. I moved over to the bar with the girl, and we chatted about nightclubs and a Sky-View place in the area until her cousin found her. They headed out, and I decided to call it a night.

And what a night it was.

Date #39: Special Autumn

Finally, Saturday evening came around. It would be the night of my first second-date in seven weeks. My first second-date since completely overcoming the force of inhibition.

I'd spoken to Autumn on the phone a couple times since our first date. I experienced a bit of the usual phone anxiety in anticipation of calling her, and felt a little stiff during the conversation. Still, though, our connection remained: we entertained each other with lighthearted humor, and the brief conversation moved along easily. She had actually been the one to call me once, just to "see what's going on." It was a nice change that put me even more at ease.

About an hour before we were supposed to get together, she sent me a text, and said she'd meet me at a Mexican restaurant.

Meet me there? I've never met anyone on one of my second dates. That would be unromantic, and it wouldn't work today, because I had plans for us.

She texted back that I could pick her up the parking lot. That she'd feel more comfortable that way, since it was only our second date.

At first, I thought she meant the parking lot of the restaurant, and I didn't feel good about it. What was the deal with this girl? I actually thought, momentarily, that maybe I should consider just telling her to forget it.

But instead, I told her it was no problem. After a few more confusing texts, I called her up, and found out that she meant the parking lot of her apartment. That seemed pretty silly (where else would I have picked her up, anyway?), but I went along with it. I knew that she was really just being consistent. After all, on our first date, she seemed to exhibit a supermodel's mentality, insisting on paying for coffee ("so I won't feel bad if I don't like you"), and telling me that she wouldn't even give her phone number to someone she'd met at a club - even me.

I was relaxed, confident, and comfortable when I made the call. I was in a rush, and didn't have any time to review conversation topics, strategies, or anything else from the blog. I drove down the street to her apartment complex, figuring I'd wing it. I remembered how easy it was talking to her before, and I recalled how much easier it is for me to talk in person instead of on the phone. I thought to myself, lists of conversation topics are not the answer, anyway. Sure, they usually help for a few hours, but this is someone I could be with indefinitely.
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She got in the car, and gave me a hug. I asked how her day had been, or something like that, and I soon learned that she had stayed up all night finishing homework before her Saturday class. She had slept only an hour in the last day, but near-complete exhaustion wasn't enough for her to miss out on the chance to spend time with me again. It was a monumental difference from some of my past experiences, where I felt as if I had to chase down the other person for a date.

We chatted while I drove to our surprise destination. I was completely at ease. Completely uninhibited. It was as if I were talking to my closest friend, only I felt even more confident with Autumn. As it has been more often than not the last couple months, my state of being was fundamentally different than in those forlorn inhibited days. My voice - the instrument that embodies my inhibition, or lack thereof - was perfect. There was no tension. No tentativeness. It's hard to do justice to the difference from all of those past days, but really, it suffices to say that I was normal. In fact, better than normal. I was more like a fun, confident character on an American sitcom than the inhibited person of my past, who is now fading into a mere memory.

Soon, we arrived at a house. She couldn't have had any idea what I had planned, but she played along. I had to parallel park, and knew that my skills in that area were weak. I made a joke about it before trying. One of the remarkable differences in being uninhibited is that you say and do what you're feeling and thinking. There are few, if any, secret, internal lines of thought. Instead, you share your thoughts and feelings with others through your words and actions. You're in the moment, and by sharing, you are extroverted. It's both a means and an end. It also helps to eliminate problems like thinking of things to talk about, because a great deal of conversation naturally arises from even the smallest details shared of your thoughts. Being extroverted also fosters a connection between you and others, as your unfiltered words and actions reveal your true self.

I made a phone call, and we walked inside the house. Finally, I clued her in: we were going to be getting a psychic reading. It wasn't by design, but amazingly, it had been exactly a year since I had taken another date to visit a psychic on the day that I then proclaimed to be the best night of my life. This was my chance to experience it all again, but without limitations, and without inhibition.

We walked inside, and an older Persian woman (at least, Autumn guessed she was Persian) told us to make ourselves at home while we waited. We sat down in a beautifully decorated room with a white marble theme, and I started to make some motions as to put my hands behind my head and my feet up on the table. I was kidding around with Autumn, and got a rise out of her. It was fun.

We found a very young-looking psychic in the basement, and she raised the price on me from $20 to $45, now that she had me in front of my date, where I wouldn't back out. (Of course, I paid a ridiculous $75 last year, so this was a bargain). The psychic girl began by asking us to each make a wish while touching the tarot cards. It wasn't intended to be a wish that would come true, but I wished that I would kiss Autumn at the end of the night, and that it would go smoothly.

It was a lot like last year's reading. Instead of saying that my relationships come and go, this psychic said that I "move on from relationships fast." Again, as you know, that could be construed as being true. She also said, paramount to anything else, that I'm a person who makes my own luck. That statement pretty much sums up this blog, and my life in general. Could there be something to this psychic stuff?

The psychic also spouted off some nonsense about an ex-love interest coming back in an attempt to reclaim my heart. Someone who felt more strongly about me than I realized. It sounded an awful lot like the girl from this saga. I proclaimed to the psychic that if it came true, I would tell everyone I know to come to see her. The young psychic looked just a little nervous with that statement, and I used her as a ploy for my humor throughout the session. My date smiled, laughed, and told me to leave her alone, but for $45, I was going to get my money's worth. :-)

Just like last time, the psychic (and this was not the same psychic) mentioned that my date tends to worry a lot, and something about sickness in her family. Yikes! Like any date, this was supposed to be fun, positive, light, and funny. When she ran out of tarot cards, the psychic gave us several opportunities to ask questions. We were out of ideas, so I asked for suggestions. The psychic offered to tell us something about the two of us as a couple, but Autumn and I were on the same page: No thanks! We'd enjoy being together without any psychic predictions lurking in the our minds.

Of course, this was much different than on that date a year ago. I shared with Autumn all of my thoughts on our little experience. I told her exactly what I was thinking: that I might not have done it if I knew it were going to be heavy like that. She said that I only wanted to hear the positive half of the story, and I explained that I wasn't in it for the truth - I was doing it for fun.

When I opened the car door for Autumn, she did something I'd never seen any other woman do, and that I'd never even thought of. She leaned over and opened the driver's side door for me to get in. It was a simple gesture, but I was taken aback, and the emotion came through in my voice when I thanked her. It was the same emotion I heard in her voice when I'd opened the door for her as we left the psychic. For the first time, I was overtaken by a feeling that Autumn was a very, very special girl.

We chatted until we found a spot in the crowded parking lot of the mall. She made a joke about us parking in a spot reserved for pregnant women, and I tried to take her up on it, asking if she wanted to do it. She misinterpreted, thinking that by "do it" I was asking if she wanted to have sex. I teased her about her mind being in the gutter. We talked about the psychic's prediction of her friend trying to steal me away, and she claimed that I wasn't her friend's type because there's a nerdy quality about the way I walk. When we got out of the car, I played around with a gangster-style walk, and we continued joking around. I'd never felt better with anyone than with Autumn.

We continued our chat at dinner and, just like when we'd met for coffee, discovered more things we had in common. There was never even a momentary lull in the conversation. When I mentioned that I'd once taken a Segway tour, she said that she wasn't surprised. At the moment, I knew that she gets me. Like my friend Amorita, she understands the characteristics, like adventurously trying new things, that have come to define me since I began this blog. (We've even talked about my blog several times, without me saying exactly what I write here). Yet still, she also saw an opposite aspect of my personalty - nerdiness - that I didn't think I'd even revealed to her. Things were great, but like on the day my inhibition first died, I had virtually no appetite. Odd.

We drove back to her place, and she reclined the passenger seat. I could see that she was both very tired and very comfortable with me, as I was with her.

As we arrived at her apartment complex, she directed me all the way to her actual building. It had been only a few hours since she wanted to meet in a neutral location, but now, she had no qualms about me going to her home.

Autumn apologized, saying she was sorry that we couldn't stay out longer. I was glad to be ending the fantastic date, but she asked if I had been expecting to stay out longer, and whether I'd be okay finding something to do the rest of the night without having plans with my friends. It was about 10:30PM. Again, it was something I've never experienced with any other girl. Autumn was special, and different in that at no moment since we'd met could I question whether or not she was interested. So far, she'd always made it crystal clear that she liked me -- a lot. Perhaps she couldn't hide it, even if she wanted.

I said I'd walk her to her building.

I had never kissed on a second date, but I knew if there were ever a time, this was it. Autumn and I connected even before we met, in a way that I have yet to experience with anyone else.

She stopped when we arrived at the building door. She said thanks, or something like that, and started to hug me. At least, I thought she was going to hug me. I momentarily thought about kissing her after the hug, but about halfway through the embrace, she puckered up, and leaned in to kiss me. Our connection became physical, as our lips met for a brief, sweet moment in time. She said she'd talk to me later, and I said alright, have a good night.

It all happened so fast that I wasn't sure whether I had initiated the kiss or not. Could she have kissed me? Few guys, I'm sure, have had the experience of a woman initiating a first kiss.

Soon after I got home, she sent me a text message:

"Awkward goodbye. Sorry if i made u uncomfortable. Wasnt tryn 2 put the moves on u!"

Yep. She's special.

Happy Birthday

While I was writing the last post, I turned 25 years old. On my 24th birthday a year ago, I received only one birthday wish from a friend, because, well, I only had one friend back then.

I always make a birthday wish when I blow out the candles on my cake. Last year, it was easy to decide what to wish for: I wished that I would complete my mission. I'm not yet ready to call it complete, but my unrelenting determination between the two birthdays ended up in me getting these messages the day I turned 25:

"Happy Bday!"
"Happy Birthday!"
"Happy birthday! Haha. U wanna celebrate this weekend?"

Three birthday wishes from three new friends I would never have even known if not for a thing called "the mission." It was a happy birthday, indeed.

Date #38: Ebb

To put Sunday's date #38 into context, I should first say that I had a rough weekend. On Saturday, my parents were in a serious car accident, but things worked out fine and they were virtually unscathed. Still, though, I was (and still am) a little perturbed. There are only a few things I care about more than the mission, and my family is one of them.

After it looked like things were alright with the family, I eventually decided to try to do some mission work by going to a new nightclub.

I couldn't manage to get much of anything going. I had a brief conversation with a very urban girl and spoke to her lesbian friends while I waited in line outside the club, and I was smooth and uninhibited, but that was the highlight of the evening. On the inside, this club's environment wasn't like SuperBar, so I didn't see much opportunity to talk to people and make friends the way I planned. I danced with one really nice and fun girl, but didn't realize until tonight that I should have offered to buy her a drink so that we could chat. One of the interesting things about the club is that there are many different kinds of people, so there is really no way for them to know if you have anything in common unless you actually talk to them. The next time I go out, I'll be sure to use buying a drink as my secret weapon in getting people off the dance floor to somewhere I can talk to them.

Aside from that new revelation about offering to buy a drink, my time at the club was such an abysmal waste of time, money, and energy that I felt even more perturbed than when I started. On Sunday, I got organized, ingested some caffeine, and tried to mentally recover for my Starbucks date with a girl from eHarmony named Norine.

I hadn't thought much about the date beforehand. In fact, I had to be sure to review her eHarmony profile, our "Guided Communication" responses and the e-mails we'd exchanged, because she had only barely been on my radar the past several days. As usual, I made a list of conversation topics, and committed to memory the most promising few, based on what I knew about her. (The actual topics were what she did over the summer; school; Barack Obama; dancing; and the soap opera Days of Our Lives). I even had a little mnemonic. I pumped myself up, and with great enthusiasm and little anxiety, drove into the city for my date.
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This time, it did not go well. For my part, the biggest problem was that The Voice Thing made a now-rare appearance. I didn't sound confident, and Norine had to ask several times for me to repeat what I'd just said. I stuck to the usual strategies, but TVT hindered me, and it went an awful lot like the dates I described all too often last March and earlier.

The other half of the story is my partner in this fiasco. She was physically attractive, but for once, that wasn't enough for me to even be interested. There wasn't a lot of laughter and kidding around, but that was in spite of my efforts because her personality wasn't one very conducive to humor. She was fairly nice, but there seemed to be a prissy quality about the way she spoke, and I found it to be a turnoff.

The difference between Norine and Autumn was an amazing case of night-and-day:

Norine talked a lot, but scarcely even asked me a question. Autumn asked me as many questions as she could. I can't remember Norine ever making a joke, while Autumn was the first person I've met who jokes as much as I do. It was obvious that Autumn was genuinely fascinated by me, while Norine, well...

When it comes to knowing whether or not a woman is interested, I'm now the world's leading expert. Interested in me, Norine was not. After about 45 minutes, she asked what time it was, and I knew at that moment I'd never speak to her after that night. I soon asked her if she was ready to head out, and she said she lived about 3 blocks away. Against my better judgment, I offered to walk her home.

It was about 14 minutes of torture. I asked her questions and made some occasional comments, but she wouldn't ask me anything. At all. I gave her a chance by being quiet for a couple minutes here and there, and still - not a word. I thought it would be interesting to see if she would break the silence if I just didn't say anything. How long could she stay silent? 5 minutes doesn't look like much on your screen, but it's an awful long time to not say a word to someone on a date. And yet, it seems like she wouldn't have said a single word, except to answer a question I asked.

When we finally reached her apartment, she gave me a perfunctory hug, thanked me for the coffee, and said it was nice meeting me.
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After the declaring the death of inhibition, I knew that things would not be perfect. Instead, I expected a sort of ebb and flow, with some good days and some bad ones. In the last couple months, almost every endeavor has been fantastically successful, so date #38 was simply one of the few, necessary ebbs.

No matter how these things go, I try to learn a little something every time. Today, the moral of the story is that we aren't going to match up well with everyone we meet. I don't know who is a good match for Norine, but it certainly isn't me. Her personality isn't well-suited to making me feel comfortable being myself, and we simply had no connection.

Today's date really underscored my connection with Autumn. I spoke to her on the phone last week, and she continued to be entertained by virtually everything I said, while I enjoyed her lighthearted humor as well. We're planning to hang out this Saturday, but I have another first date (#39) planned for Wednesday. Talk to you then.

From Impulse to Friend

If you've been reading for a while, or have even skimmed over older posts, you know that things have changed a lot. At this point, it's just one milestone after another.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about my first pickup. Actually, "pickup" was an intentional misnomer. I was at my friend's birthday party in a small nightclub, and had loosened up so much that I decided to find someone random to talk to. I acted on my impulse to speak to a young lady who was sitting by the bar alone, and ten minutes later, I found myself asking for her phone number. It turned out she had a boyfriend, but was interested in being friends with me.

It was the first time I'd ever done anything like that. I could have easily been content dancing and meeting friends of my friend that night, not seeking out anyone else. I could have walked away when there was a lull in the conversation. I could have yielded to inhibition instead of asking for her phone number, or done any number of other such things that would have set my life on a different course - one that wouldn't have involved writing a blog entry called "From Impulse to Friend."

But instead, I followed my impulse, and here we are.

I sent her a text, asking if she wanted to play some pool on Sunday. She agreed, and I called her a few hours before to verify. It was actually the first phone call I'd made to a person that I hadn't met online. The problems from the past were gone: I felt relaxed and confident.

As I waited for her to arrive, I noticed that something was different. Even on my best days before, I had always felt anxiety before meeting someone for the first time. I had only spoken to her for 10 minutes in a loud nightclub beforehand, so I really knew much less about her than anyone I'd met online. And still, I was completely relaxed. There wasn't even a hint of anxiety.

Finally, Neola arrived. For the first time, I hadn't come with any conversation topics in mind at all. Instead, I just started out with something very general, like asking what she'd been up to. It took no effort for me to just be myself, and the conversation moved along naturally.

I had - as I talk about so often now - assumed rapport with Neola. I hardly knew anything about her before we met up for pool, so my assumption was that we would be perfectly compatible friends, regardless of her background, and that there was no ice to break.

One interesting fact that I learned about Neola early on was her age. She's 30 years old, and I'm only 24. She was, by far, the oldest person I've hung out with. And yet, it didn't matter. While we played pool, I joked around as usual, and it was no different than with anyone else I've been myself with. When I told her I'd be turning just 25 next Monday, she made no reference to our age difference.

I also couldn't help but notice that I was very attracted to my new friend. I was guilty of the occasional checkout and a little bit of daydreaming, but otherwise, it didn't affect anything.

After she beat me in a couple games of pool, we moved on to the shuffleboard table. It was the first time either of us had played the funny game, so it was an opportunity to do more kidding around. It was also pretty easy to talk at the same time, so we learned more about each other.

It all sounds pretty ordinary, and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing. When I started out, my interactions were fraught with inhibition and other problems. Now, they range from simply ordinary to spectacular.

After a while, I realized that for some reason, I really liked Neola - a lot. I walked her to her car when we left. We had played for free, but for some reason, she thanked me. There was no hug (that might be uncomfortable for her since she has a boyfriend), but she asked which day my birthday was, and told me to text her when I got home safely. By the time I got home, I could see that the fond feelings I had for her with mutual, because she texted me first:

"Im home watching the mtv awards. i had a nice time."

Spectacular Metamorphosis

Last night was so spectacular that if I had entitled this post "Mission Accomplished," no one would argue with me.
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Since first discovering nightclubs six weeks ago, I've been virtually addicted to the scene, attending all but one weekend. Once, I even went on both Friday and Saturday nights. I love the exciting, people-packed environment, but my adventures have also been a big factor in furthering my mission. In fact, the nightclub is really a sort of gym. It's a gym for building social muscles like courage and confidence. The people and situations in the nightclub provide the equipment needed to do exercises that build social muscles that will eventually allow inhibition to be overpowered.

My time at the club last weekend was pretty abysmal (hence, I didn't mention it in the blog). I ended up spending way too much money, and I scarcely managed any positive interactions the whole night. The place was overcrowded, the music was bad, and the women were too guarded.

Last night, I started thinking that perhaps I was already ready to move on from the whole nightclub thing. I'd just had a great date, and had an activity with a friend planned for the next day, so I didn't really need to go as an exercise for the mission. I was going to stay home, but I decided to generally try to stop over-analyzing in my life, and just go and do what I felt like doing.

I felt like going to a new nightclub, and so that's what I was going to do.

I had no idea that it would be one of the best nights of my entire life.
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At first, I felt nervous as I waited in a short line outside SuperBar, a bar/dance club combination with 4 floors. I was anxious, and felt like I needed a nap. A group of young girls and one guy with Brazilian passports were in front of me, but they never made eye contact, and I didn't feel loose enough to initiate an interaction with them.

I wasn't strategizing at all this time. There was no self-talk about staying present, making observations, following impulses, or the like. I had settled down mentally, so it would be time to see if I'd yet reached the point at which all of those things become automatic.

After about 10 minutes, a pair of guys got in line behind me. I was generally looking around, and one of them made a comment about the people in another line getting admitted to the club faster. I explained that the other line was a guest-list line, and he told me that he had a friend who worked there.

Soon, another group came behind us. One of the guys asked how long I'd been waiting. I implied that the bouncers were making us wait needlessly, and the group started joking about it. The first two guys got in on the conversation, and we learned that they were soldiers that had just returned from Iraq. It was a very light conversation, but it quickly led to one of the soldiers, Diego, offering to get us some passes for another night, and to the second group asking me about politics.

Finally, I got inside. The dance floor was narrow, though well-populated, and I got off to my usual start. I first stood near the bar without dancing, wondering how I could operate in such a small area. The sheer size of the dance floor at the big clubs had made me feel much less self-conscious. There were so many people at those clubs that it felt like I was bound to go unnoticed (actually, that was mere perception), and if I were somehow embarrassed with a group of people, I could easily move to another spot where they wouldn't see me.

I started making small motions near the bar, but it looked like I was going to be scared off from my usual dancing this time. After half an hour or so, I saw the soldier, Diego, from outside. He came over and asked me about taking my "pick." He was talking about hitting on girls (right up my alley!), and it was my first opportunity, in over a year, to really play with another guy.
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I now had a friend at the club. Suddenly, dancing didn't seem difficult. I asked Diego a few questions, and he told me that he'd hooked up with 3 ladies at the same club last night (perhaps a fish tale), and he showed me his dog tag, which was his secret weapon. We moved around, waiting for an opportunity.

By now, I was dancing and having a good time. I was happy, and totally immersed in the environment instead of contemplating anything in my mind. I had no expectations.

Every now and then, Diego would come back over to me and talk about getting girls. It was always either him using the music as an excuse for not doing anything, or him telling me about a group of girls he spotted. He sometimes said he needed backup. It was fun: I tried to use Army terminology, telling him I had him covered, or that he was on point. Usually, the girls weren't very responsive. Once, they outright ran away from us. A whole group! But we were having fun, and were both unfazed. To me, none of it was very important. I was there to play, and as far as girls went, I was just in it for the sport.

Finally, I broke out my own secret weapon - sunglasses - and told Diego and his friend, "Game on!" We exchanged low-five handshakes, as we did throughout the night, and I soon went in to back up Diego when he spotted a sexy, full-figured blonde dancing with her gorgeous brunette friend. Diego started dancing (a little bump and grind) behind the blonde. I watched and danced on the side of the group at first, but he kept motioning me over until I took position behind the brunette. I scarcely even touched her before she grabbed her friend to dance with instead. Diego didn't give up, though; he yelled over to me, "switch!", and the brunette seemed willing to dance with him, and the blonde with me. I was having fun, and certainly wasn't going to feel offended. It would have been hard to have been upset anyway, because the sexy blonde and I were all over each other .

We bumped, we ground. I explored her body from her thighs to her belly, and I raised her hands in the air, interlocking our fingers. Her long, pretty blonde hair was in my face, and it felt good. I can't really say it was all entirely sensual. It was somewhat clumsy - she had probably been drinking - but boy, was it fun.

The brunette probably moved away from Diego, because he told me to switch again. This time, the dark-haired beauty played along for a few moments, but then asked if I wanted to buy her a drink. I didn't, really, but I had never bought a girl a drink, so I said sure. Diego handed me 5 bucks to get the blonde a drink as well, and I ordered alcohol for the first time in my life. I figured the girl was probably just trying to get a free drink, but possibly could have been interested and wanted to talk to us. After getting her Bud Lite, the brunette said she was going to the bathroom. When I saw her again, she was hanging out with other people in a private section of the bar. It was no big deal; the next time an uninterested girl asks for a drink, I'll be sure to give her some witty banter instead.

By now, I had been dancing nonstop, even when I was alone. I was wearing a gray dress shirt, and could see that it had a few big sweat spots. The club was hot, and I was moving. Virtually nonstop.
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I couldn't find Diego, and thought my two new friends had left the club, so I went upstairs to check out the Latin music floor. I walked down the narrow dance floor, and didn't have an impulse to interact with anyone until I got to the end. In the corner, there was a group of about 7 Mexican women dancing in a circle. I hesitated for only a moment, then followed my impulse to play with them.

I moved to the outside of the circle, and started dancing. They smiled, and I kept on dancing. They were all entertained, and one of them soon moved over to dance with me. Most of the women looked to be in the usual 18-25 age range for the club, but one of them was clearly older, and I figured she was probably the mother of one of the girls. Combined with the general sweet, innocent look of the girls, that meant it would be all rather wholesome dancing - no bumping and grinding - and that was cool.

I was looser than ever in life, and was doing hip-hop moves to Latin music, so the group was delightedly entertained. They motioned me into the center of the circle and started taking turns, with each woman coming in to dance with me. We were all smiling and laughing during my awkward attempts at basic Latin dance moves like turning around my partner.

By now, these were my friends. I stayed for a long time, and continued to play with the group. I followed their lead dancing to well-known Spanish music, quickly learning when to jump and shout "Uno dos tres!" on beat.

I realized that my mission metamorphosis had turned me into someone just like Amorita, my friend who makes friends effortlessly. Except for a little instruction about how to bend down and stand up in rhythm for the song, I hadn't actually understood a word that the group had said the whole time. They were speaking entirely in Spanish as they joked and laughed. When someone took out a camera to take a group picture, I first stayed on the outside, but they wouldn't let me. They beckoned me to get in the photos, and of course, I did! Just like Amorita. When they got together to take more later, I moved in on my own and knelt down beside a couple of guys who had joined us. They laughed. Everyone was happy, and it was a lot of fun.

And still, we played some more. We linked together and formed a dance train, moving it throughout the space in the bar that had become ours. We held on to each other in another circle, and jumped up and down for another song. A girl in the middle of that circle bounced her head against my chin and sat down to ease the slight pain, so it gave me a chance to finally talk to one of them. I asked if they were celebrating a birthday or anything, and she told me that her Aunt and girlfriend were just visiting from California. Before moving on, I played with them some more. It had been at least 45 minutes, and I knew we had provided each other with some great memories. I only wish I had one of the photos to post in this entry.
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I decided to go back downstairs and check out the hip-hop floor. By now, my nice dress shirt was drenched with sweat. No one else in the building was as sweaty as I was, because no one else in the building was as active as I was. Naturally, people started making comments and asking questions about my shirt.

"Damn dude, what have you been doing?"
"Dancing, man! What have you been doing?"
"I've been chillin, man."
"I came to dance. I can chill at home."
"True that. Well it's only 1:30, so I've still got time."

I could see that people actually admired me for having a such a good time. People stopped and looked as I walked by them. One of the girls who worked at the desk even came up to me and smelled the shirt.

By now, there wasn't a shred of inhibition in my mind, body, or soul. When I started out dancing weeks ago, I felt stiff and a little nervous. I moved as if I had lead in my shoes. Now, though, it was totally different. I moved more loosely than I ever have in my entire life.

I hadn't seen Diego in over an hour, but I didn't need him to do whatever I wanted now.

I spotted a girl dancing by herself. She was dark-skinned, and was wearing low-cut jeans. I could see that she was wearing a g-string.

I started dancing with her. By now, I was a virtual wild man, and knew that it boded well for my dancing. I was sure that I was dancing well, and she seemed to be warming up, interacting with me more. Soon she turned her back to me and I took one of her hands, raising it above her head. She initiated some bump-and-grind, which by now you probably know is something I really like . I held on to her waist and thighs, and explored her body up to the bare belly exposed by her tank-top. Physical play with the opposite sex just never gets old - especially if you've come from where I started.

After that, I might have very well been the most happy person in the world for the rest of the night. I found a spot on the dance floor in front of a fan, and I went insane. I danced with absolute fury! I jumped around rhythmically with a nonstop supply of great new improvised dance moves. I shouted on cue and I sang. I gritted my teeth, and was playing with such absolutely vigor that my legs started to hurt. Every now and then, I glanced over at the reserved table area. I spotted a couple of people watching me the whole time. They were in awe.

Drenched in sweat, I might have been the most uninhibited person SuperBar has ever seen. All without ever consuming a drop of alcohol.
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I decided to see what else was going on, and worked my way across the floor on the first level. I had been interacting with people at random: giving a five-shake to a male wallflower who nodded at me; asking a girl why she wasn't dancing; doing whatever I felt like doing.

Downstairs was a very sparsely populated dance floor with open seats on the side. Here, I found Diego. He and his friend were chatting with a few guys, probably about tattoos, and getting them to buy drinks for girls who were sitting down (he was apparently under 21).

As he talked, I played. I went back to my furious dance moves, only this time, I was the only person in the room dancing. I was the absolute center of attention, with my extreme hyperactivity, sunglasses, and sweat-drenched shirt. People smiled and nodded. I returned the gestures, and danced on.

Finally, I took a seat. I started chatting with Diego's friend Rod, while Diego entertained the two ladies he'd bought the drinks for. We talked for a while, and I found out that he was a medic in the Army; that he'd be in town for two more months; that he was married; what he wanted to do in his career, and other stuff like that. One of the club promoters came over, and started talking to us as if we were already his friends (i.e., assuming raport). He pointed out the bartender - one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen - and told us that he's going to marry her, although she doesn't know it yet, because they just met last Tuesday.

After Rod and I got separated in another hunt for ladies, I returned to the calm basement area of the club with Diego. A girl who had been standing by the basement DJ finally took a seat, so I followed my impulse to sit down next to her and start a conversation. At some point, Diego came over to tell us how he used his Army ranger training to help a bouncer, and to break some guy's arm who pulled a knife on him one day. He was one of the toughest guys in the world, and he excitedly proclaimed that he loves what he does. Still, though, I spent most of the time talking to the girl 1-on-1.

I asked if she was one of the DJ's, and she explained that it was her boyfriend's first night on the job, so she was standing with him to ease his nerves. Immediately, it was as comfortable as talking to a close friend. She inquired in amazement about my sweat-drenched shirt, and I joked with her about that. I complimented her boyfriend's performance, and we talked about music, stuff going on in the environment (like a guy wearing a wedding dress), and more. I effortlessly thought of questions, such as asking what she and her boyfriend usually do for fun, since she said she'd outgrown the club scene.

When I first saw her standing, I had no interest, and thought she was the type I wouldn't be physically attracted to. Halfway into our conversation, though, she seemed like a great girl, and I felt strong attraction, finding myself wanting to put my arm around her in embrace. That was one of the rare impulses that shouldn't be followed, especially since her live-in boyfriend was standing two feet away from us. . Still, though, it was good: I remembered that I've never had a girlfriend, and now that my inhibition has been obliterated, I expect that to change in the near future.
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I had been at the club since 10:00PM, and it was now nearing closing time, 3:00AM. People in the basement started heading out.

The promoter with the marital aspirations came by, gave me a five-shake, and told me to come back.

A guy who was with him came over and gave me a handshake-hug, although I hadn't actually spoken to him before.

Diego came over to say goodbye to the girl I'd been talking to, and I took her hand as I left. She said it was nice meeting me.

A girl I hadn't noticed walked by before I went out, and put up her hand for me to give her a high-five. I apparently had created rapport with a number of people in the building, by way of the relentless dancing that at times had put me at the center of attention.

Finally, I headed upstairs with my new friends. When the lights came on to signal closing time, I gave a round of applause. It was a round of applause for the night, for myself, and for the mission.

Once we were outside, I bade farewell and good luck to my new friends. Rod asked my name, so I asked how long they were going to be in town. Rod said to give him a call if I wanted to go out again sometime. Diego would be in town for only two more weeks, while Rod would be around for two months, so I pulled out my cell phone and added his number. He reaffirmed that we should go out again to dance and get some girls.

One of the best nights of my life had come to a close.

I had completed a spectacular metamorphosis.

Date #37: Autumn Perfection

Amazingly, this has finally started to look like a blog about something other than dating. Things slowed to a halt in my world of romance, leaving me with no dates to tell you about from July 12 to today, September 4. A lull in the action that would have rivaled any other since I embarked on my mission - that is, if not for the fact that I've been doing a lot of other things in the meantime.

A lot of other things, all of a strictly platonic nature. How, then, would I fare on my first date in 7 weeks? My first first-date in 2 months?

I would be meeting a girl named Autumn. We were matched on eHarmony, and boy, did we interact through that web site. In my very first experience with the site last year, I'd exchanged long, intimate e-mails with my potential partner, and we even had long phone conversations before meeting up. Oddly, that turned out to be beginner's luck: until Autumn came along, I never got to know anyone else on a similar level before meeting up. Rather, it had always been a few short e-mails, followed by a first date.

But Autumn was different. In the guided communication process, she wrote in a broad, general question for me to describe myself, and I wrote a long and interesting response. When it was her turn to answer my questions, she wrote the longest answers I've ever seen.

When we reached the "open communication" process, the floodgates opened up. We both wrote a couple of very long e-mails, in which we joked around and shared private details about ourselves.

I started thinking that maybe there was a reason for all of this. That is, perhaps the reason our communication was so different was that we were actually a great match for each other.

As our arranged meeting day grew near, I began feeling anxious. There were a number of factors at play. First, she looked very attractive in her online photos. On top of that, she was super confident. In one e-mail, she actually mentioned not wanting to date a "door mat," and that such guys break her heart because she "nixes guys for any little thing," and doesn't want them to be discouraged. She was doing a perfect job of portraying herself as a hot girl - a super catch - who is chased by all the guys. That, too, led me to feel more anxious. In addition, I couldn't help but wonder a whether I'd be rusty after so many weeks without a date. I had already declared my inhibition dead, but this would be an enormous test. After last spring's drought, I was nervous before my first date back in action, and it ended up being extremely awkward. After finally getting the mission's completion in my sights, I felt as if taking a step backwards today due to rust could be a confidence-shattering disaster.

I was under pressure.

I felt anxious for a few days. Some anxiety was present almost constantly, but at times it was really, really bad. I hadn't gotten enough sleep for work, and the combination of exhaustion and anxiety made me feel, at moments, oddly near tears.

Yesterday, I started trying to think of ways to escape the troublesome feelings. Then, I realized what I had forgotten: I already figured out the anxiety problem, and wrote about it in the blog. I reviewed my brief post about anxiety and impulse, and then my landmark post about confidence. I had been making all of the mistakes I documented months ago. Chief among them was overreacting to uncontrollable, momentary waves of anxiety. I had spent days building my anxiety by feeding a vicious cycle in which I worried about feeling anxious. I was anxious about being anxious on my date.

I started applying the simple methods in those posts, and I felt a little better. I also reviewed the posts about days when I was able to be uninhibited. I remembered them, and could recall the feelings that I experienced when I was able to be myself. I felt as if I could regain those feelings; as if I could actively take control in a social situation.

Still, though, I had to trudge through an anxious and sleepy work day before our 7:00 Starbucks date. For some reason, I felt as sleepy and anxious as I'd ever been.

A little more preparation. I briefly reviewed some of the things that seemed to be key in all of my uninhibited days:

• Staying present

• Staying calm no matter what, instead of overreacting to passing thoughts or waves of anxiety

• Intentionally projecting my voice in confident manner

• Visualizing the date going exactly the way I wanted it to, and minimizing or completely eliminating any negative visualizations

• Having a few good specific topics in mind, but mainly using my list of conversation topics for the date as items to be triggered based on other things that come up in the natural flow of conversation

• Not getting discouraged by something that doesn't go smoothly. Just move on immediately (stay present)

• Not placing great importance on the particular event

• Assuming rapport

• Drawing on past social experiences (mostly gained during the mission) for things to say and do

• Taking on high-status body posture

• PLAYING! Joking, kidding around, teasing, being playfully arrogant. Intentionally carrying on the same persona (the real me) that I showed online. Being active instead of passive.
  

And more. None of it was anything new. Rather, it was a synthesis of many very specific points that I learned, proved, and documented throughout the existence of this blog.

I knew that, really, it should all be said and done. I declared my inhibition dead nearly two months ago, and I implied the beginning of the successful end of this mission. In spite of my anxiety, I felt a deep level of confidence. I felt as if I could control the situation and be uninhibited even if I were the most anxious person in the world for 3 straight days leading up to the event. I felt as if there were no possible way I could be inhibited. I felt as if I'd come so far that I couldn't appear shy, nervous, and tense unless I wanted to, and even then, it would still be tough.

Really, there wasn't much left to do with the mission except bring things to a close by consistently demonstrating my growth.

A first-date with remarkable mutual interest and potential chemistry was the perfect place to start.
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As I drove, I intentionally relaxed, keeping my mind calm and free. She called when I was a couple minutes away from the Starbucks. I answered my phone without hesitation, and said, "Hey, what's up?" I was assuming rapport. I told her I'd be there in a couple minutes. After merely hearing her voice, I was already feeling less anxious. That's always been the case, so uncertainty must be the biggest contributing factor to pre-event anxiety.

She was sitting outside waiting. I calmly stepped out of the car, smiled, and gave her a hug.

The first thing I noticed was that she was no supermodel. Her looks, in fact, were not intimidating at all now that I'd seen her in person. I understood that no matter what she had looked like, there wouldn't have been any real difference. Everyone is just a regular person. No one is above me.

She was a regular girl. A regular girl that - I can't help but add - seemed humorously overconfident. When I pulled out a few bucks for our coffee, she insisted that she pay instead. Believe it or not, she said, "This way I won't feel bad if I don't like you." I could tell from her tone and facial expression that she was completely serious.

Okay. So that was ridiculous. The girl is regular-looking to me and clearly has some eccentricities, but there was still the matter of that eHarmony-matched chemistry to explore.

I had met with many such matches in the past year or so, yet was almost always too inhibited for it to matter. Today, on my first date in 7 weeks, was I in any position to explore the compatibility?

Absolutely. The anxiety that had been present for days diminished moments after I met her - just as I'd expected.

Beforehand, I had recalled the lyrics to a song Michael Phelps listens to before a big game:
Yeah I'm the best. No I ain't positive, I'm definite; I know the game like I'm reffin' it.

After dedicating my life to a crusade against shyness, this was my game. I was nervous beforehand, but that's normal for even some of the greatest athletes.

I took control. Inhibition had no chance against me.

As we waited for our drinks, I started warming up. Her ridiculous early comment was the perfect opportunity for me to start playing. I told her that she was already breaking gender roles, and I said, "Well then I'll feel bad [if I don't like you]."

I built on my comfort level. With every imperfection I noticed in her appearance, I felt a little better.

It didn't take long for me to make her laugh. It was a goofy laugh with a snort, and it was very disarming. I felt even better.

I soon was as uninhibited as ever, and the conversation was moving along easily. At some point, she made a sort of lame joke, and followed it up by saying "This is me nervous...."

She asked if I was nervous, too.

Hell no! I told her, "I don't really get nervous about things like that."

In a beautiful twist of irony, that was the reality I'd created. I jokingly asked if she needed me to hold her hand.

There was chemistry. It was a 180-degree turnaround from the early dates described in this blog. Instead of me repeatedly asking questions and just listening to the responses, I sometimes found myself doing the majority of the talking. She asked questions with genuine interest, and I had no trouble with what started out as my biggest problem: talking about myself. I even told anecdotes with great success. I was open and honest, even telling her about my blog (though sparing the details). She was interested in, impressed by, or joyously entertained with just about everything I said. Several times, I actually had to intentionally return the focus to her in order to balance the conversation.

As we joked and laughed at our outdoor table while the sun set, it was obvious that we shared a similar sense of humor. Really, she was just like me, having a constant supply of light, fun jokes and comments.

We also had other little things in common. I was effortlessly able to be as open with her as I had been online, and our date reaped the benefits. For example, when I mentioned that I don't like talking on the telephone, I could hear the excitement in her voice as she said "Me too!" Things were flawless. I didn't even stumble with my words - not even on occasion, as I do even with the few people I'm already close to. She made a joke about us hanging out at the drycleaners "next time," and I knew her reference to the future was verification of the feelings for me that were already so clear.

I'd told her ahead of time that I couldn't stay too long. When she asked how much time we had left and I told her about 10 minutes, she joked, "Oh...well I'm getting tired of you anyway!" I mumbled back jokingly, "Well I'm getting a little tired of you too." She then said something about me going home to imitate her, since we'd talked about my acting. I told her I might have to get a blond wig and portray her in the movie about her life. I crossed my legs and mimicked the feminine posture of her hands and facial expression. It was effortless and funny - something I was never even close to being able to do in my inhibited days. She grinned slightly and said it was making her a little uncomfortable. I immediately let her off the hook, and I knew that the tables had turned. I was the one with complete control of this date.

She made a joke about walking me to her car, but unlike on my historic first date last year, it was second-nature for me to know to walk her to hers. Practice makes perfect, and I now have a whole lot of practice behind me.

We joked around some more, until she finally said "Thanks." (for what?) I said thanks for the frappuccino, and told her to have a good night. She made one last joke, and we parted ways.

The date was so great in so many ways that I knew without doubt it was a success. Still, though, how could it be perfect? It's easy to say nothing's perfect, but I really couldn't think of an imperfection. That was remarkable, but the most interested women had always been the ones to initiate the follow-up communication afterwards. Only that could make it perfect.

Soon after I got home, I heard my phone beep. It was a text from Autumn.

Could the girl with the ego of a supermodel really be so interested in me that she could only wait half an hour before contacting me again?

I flipped open my phone and took a look at the message.

"Thanks. I had fun"