Mission Miscellany

I experienced a welcome problem the last few weeks. I became so inundated with activities that I didn't have enough time to write about them. It was, in fact, the flood of social activities that I planned to create long ago. Here are the final updates for 2008.

The Office

Aside from romance and friendship, my office is the last remaining front in my war on shyness. Perhaps due to the nature of my job - spending most of the day programming at a computer - it's also the front where I've made the least progress. Sometimes, I'm semi-uninhibited, with clear, relaxed manner of speech and a conservative joke here and there. Other times, I can't get out of my shell, and am no better than when I started all of this. I've felt the most inhibition when working with the CEO of the company. That sounds pretty normal, except that he's one of the nicest, most down-to-earth and unintimidating people I've ever met. At the weekly company lunches, I generally revert to asking a few questions and a whole lot of listening to the group instead of talking about myself. There's a night-and-day difference from the now-numerous uninhibited days I've talked about, and it seems a lot harder talking in groups.

Last Thursday night was our annual company holiday party, a boat cruise around the harbor. I never had any thought of avoiding it, and decided it was about time I started putting more effort into making social progress at work.

As we waited to board, I stood at first in silence after exchanging the typical "Good, how are you?" greetings with a few people. The company lawyer was standing a couple feet away, and I remembered something about his name. I had never had a conversation with him, but now I had an impulse to give it a try. At first, inhibition stymied me, but after a minute or so, I finally went for it.

"John, your name is almost exactly the same as one of the inventors of Feycebook, isn't it?"

And that was all it took. He told me that he'd actually played racquetball with the Feycebook inventor when he was in law school. It gave me an easy opportunity for other questions and comments about his school, with open-ended ones like "How did you like it there?" extending the conversation well until it was time to get on the boat. We were interrupted by a panhandler who made a racial comment that seemed like it'd make me uncomfortable, but I simply ignored her and re-started the conversation with another good question.

John and I sat at a table together on the boat, where another coworker named Lacey asked to join us. She started a conversation by asking where I was from, and, surprisingly, it soon led to us discovering that we had something in common I'd never guessed. I was an aspiring actor, and her previous job had been as an actress; it gave us plenty to talk about.

By now, I was feeling good. The food was fantastic, the music included some of my favorite songs from SuperBar, and I was intrigued and enthused by having, after over a year, made connections with two of my coworkers. As I loosened up, I started to see glimpses of my real, uninhibited self. The most telling sign was humor. For instance, when my coworker Jackie made a sarcastic comment implying that the hip-hop music was not classy, I exclaimed that she was insulting John, because they were playing his favorite song. It was an effective joke, since John is a Harvard-educated, straight-edge lawyer.

I should have walked around to mingle with more of my coworkers and their significant others (I was one of the few single ones), but I decided to stay in my newly discovered comfort zone instead. I kept John company, refusing to let the conversation cease for too long. I asked how he'd met his fiance (I could use some ideas!), what they like to do for fun, what television shows they like, and stuff like that. I was also able to achieve the more difficult task of talking about myself by relating some of my own experiences, such as the fact that I had a sister who went to law school. I would have never guessed from seeing him around the office, but I learned that John was really just an awful lot like me - he even had odd things in common like never having tried alcohol.

One of my coworkers finally dragged me to the dance floor, and it was a perfect litmus test of my inhibition. I was able to dance a little, and even warmed up to the point of doing a couple of good moves. Still, though, it was nothing resembling the spectacular displays I've put on at SuperBar.

Nonetheless, I'd made some connections and loosened up. It was a lot of progress for one night.

The next day, I conducted an interview of a potential new employee along with my manager, a coworker, and the aforementioned company CEO. My thoughts and voice came out sounding perfectly confident and relaxed instead of the usual tentative and mangled I usually experience when the CEO is around.

At the end of the day, my manager completed my annual review. I got the feeling that the coincidentally-scheduled interview I'd helped conduct earlier had made a good impression, because he pointed out that I was "well-spoken" and gave me a perfect 5/5 for the Communication criterion of the review. He even suggested that I start speaking at conferences.

Until last week, I'd been having thoughts of changing companies. The odd thing is that my job itself was perfect. The only issue was that I was concerned that since I started working there at the beginning of the mission, maybe I'd never be able to completely shake the inhibition that plagued me there. I've only mentioned it in passing so far, but my experience has been that it's extremely difficult to start acting a much different way around people who know you for being shy. It's as if the fact that they expect me to be shy makes me extremely self-conscious about being uninhibited, thereby preventing me from changing. I care more about the mission than about any job, so I was willing to move on for no other reason to get a fresh start, taking the uninhibited nature I've developed during the mission into my initial interview and maintaining it forever after.

It'll take some work, but it now looks like that won't be necessary.

SuperBar

Back before the mission, I lived on a university campus and went to college, followed by grad school. There was only a handful of female computer science majors, and one of them was named Tracy. The first time I saw her was in a computer graphics class. I sat in the front row, and looked back towards the door one day. Whoa! I was surprised to see a female classmate, and even more surprised to see how attractive she was.

Of course, I immediately became interested in her. And of course, it didn't matter because, before the mission, I was light years away from being able to make any sort of progress with a girl I liked.

She ended up dropping the class, but we had another together the next year. This time, I actually did manage to have a few short conversations with her, but did so without any romantic intentions. We became friends on Feycebook. We were both graduating at the end of the semester, so it would be our only connection.

Over the summer, I happened to see Tracy with her boyfriend while at a restaurant on my birthday. It was only a couple of months into the mission, and I didn't stop her to get her attention as she passed by me and my family in the waiting area.

Later that summer, I was walking with my parents to a movie at the mall. I happened to turn around, and who did I see? Tracy and her boyfriend! Again, I didn't stop them to get their attention.

Another day that summer, I was hanging out with Amorita for the third or fourth time at Dave & Busters. We were chatting when a couple started to walk towards us. Lo and behold, it was Tracy and her boyfriend! We live in a large metropolitan area, so these were no small coincidences. After each of the last two Tracy sightings, I kicked myself for not speaking to her. I was on a social turnaround mission, so it was absurd for me to miss out on an opportunity like that. Now, it seemed as if we had been crossing paths by fate, so there was no way I was going to make the same mistake a third time.

Amorita was in the middle of a story, but I had to turn and interrupt her.

"Hey Tracy!"

She introduced the boyfriend, and I introduced Amorita. We caught up about jobs and school for a couple of minutes, and that was it. I was finally satisfied, and posted a message on her Feycebook wall later. I'd thought about asking her to hang out sometime - or something like that - but months passed, and the momentum was gone.

I had run into a couple of people from school here and there since graduation, but never bumped into anyone more than once. Amazingly, though, I saw Tracy and her boyfriend at the mall again one day, and just exclaimed "Hey!" and smiled when I went by.

More months passed. In the interim, I learned through Feycebook that Tracy was no longer in a relationship.

On Saturday, I pondered whether or not I should go to SuperBar. I didn't feel like going out, but I couldn't help but recall the fact that I went anyway a few times when I'd felt similarly, only to end up having some of the best nights of my life. It was if there were something special about the place. When I was at SuperBar, good things were bound to happen.

Now, SuperBar isn't even in the same state as all of the places I'd seen Tracy. Yet, who did I see Saturday night?

Tracy.

I was decked out in one of my flashy designer shirts with sunglasses. I walked over, placing my hand gently on her back.

"Hey, what's up?"

She didn't respond for a moment.

"Tracy, right?"

"No...."

I was perplexed for a moment, because I was 99% sure it was her.

She said, "You're good!".

She thought that I was just a guy hitting on her.

"You don't recognize me?"

She didn't. She said that she didn't recognize me with the sunglasses, so I took them off.

"Nothing?!??!" I exclaimed, half-kidding. I put up four fingers, and asked, "Four years, and nothing?!"

The most striking thing was that, for the first time, I was my new, fun, uninhibited self with someone from my pre-mission past.

My choice of words gave her the clue that she knew me from school. After another moment or two, she remembered, and grabbed me tight. I asked if she'd been to SuperBar before, and she asked where my friends were. She then told me that she'd moved and started working for the government. We continued talking over the music for a couple minutes, until she said it was good to see me and that she would e-mail me on Feycebook. She then gave me another great, big hug, and headed out with her friend.

Naturally, I started to wonder about the hug. I don't think anyone has ever hugged me that tightly! I vaguely remembered getting the idea that she might have been interested back when we were in school. If so, how could she not be interested now that I was one of the coolest looking guys in the club, not to mention having shed the braces I wore the year that I knew her? Ha...

She e-mailed me the next day, remarking on the amazing fact that we'd run into each other five times, asking how work was going for me, and suggesting that we bumpinto each other intentionally the next time. Her second e-mail was much longer, and that's where it stands. I've since realized that we have a lot in common, and she would be a great friend for me. If anything, I should probaby swear off any romantic ideas about her so as not to jeopordize friendship.

The next week, I went back to SuperBar with one goal: I wanted to deliver a gift to Danny, the bouncer I wrote about in the Lab Notes, who has let me skip the line every night for the last month. I gave him a $50 gift card to the Cheescake Factory for Christmas. Now, he'll remember my name, and I have no doubt that I'll be able to skip the line at one of the hottest clubs in town whenever he's working. Amazingly, it's a very real step toward gaining popularity.

Dates #46 and #47

For my forty-sixth date, I met up for the first time with another girl from eHarmony. I was especially optimistic about it, because she had been one of a small number of people I'd made a real connection with online. (If you're wondering, my idea of a "connection" is being able to talk about nothing in particular, rather than discussing topics like where you're from, your favorite this and that, etc.)

We learned through e-mail that we were both super competitive, so instead of the usual Starbucks date, I propose that we meet up at a Billiards hall in the city. I'd learned from one of my platonic meetings that it was best to get a table and talk a bit before trying to have a conversation while playing pool, so we ordered appetizers and talked. We talked, and I was that awesome, uninhibited version of myself. We seemed to have the same connection as online, and the conversation moved along easily. I stumbled with my words only once or twice, and brushed it off realizing that no one's perfect - at least not all of the time. After a couple of hours or so, the place closed down early, without us having a chance to play that game of pool.

This time, I knew exactly where I'd parked, and drove her home. When I dropped her off, she thanked me and asked, "You have my number, right?" She then answered her own question, undoubtedly realizing that we'd texted each other only hours before. She then said, "We'll get together again soon," only to follow up with a nervous "Right?" a moment later. I responded affirmatively, and she told me she'd be leaving town for Christmas on Tuesday.

It couldn't have been more clear how she felt about me. The little exchange made me ponder why I ever put myself through wondering about how my dates have gone. Won't every girl who is really interested make it this clear?

For only the second time ever, I waited only two days before calling to ask for another date. She happily accepted, and we planned to play laser tag during the weekend.

And so came Date #47.

Somehow, I didn't feel quite as awesome once she was back in the car with me, only six days later. There was a bit of the dreaded voice thing, and topics of conversation didn't come to me as effortlessly as before. When we reached the laser tag place I tried to regroup, intentionally projecting my voice the way I strategized back in the days before the Death of Inhibition. It seemed to help, but I'd had better days nonetheless.

There were only two kids to play laser tag with us. My date seemed to have fun, for the most part, but she definitely didn't have the same reaction as the girl I took almost a year ago, who ended up being the closest anyone has ever come to being my girlfriend. When I asked whether my new date wanted to play a second game or go eat dinner, it was obvious she'd already had enough laser tag.

My GPS confused me, and it took a while for me to find the restaurant. In the meantime, I felt somewhat stiff again. I was somewhere between my worst and my best, but closer to the latter. I felt better once in the restaurant, and was able to start joking around with the waiter and my date. I was relaxed, and the conversation was pretty good.

It pains me to write this recap. Ordinarily, I can recall a fairly good description, but this time is different. It's different because I suffered the agony of disappointment before recounting the story.

I became a little nervous during the ride back to her apartment - just enough to stumble on a single word. I parked so that I could walk her to the door. I wanted to kiss her goodnight.

She thanked me for dinner, and then hugged me rather loosely before she finished talking. I could tell there was something going on. She then immediately and needlessly turned her head away so that all I could see was her shoulder-length hair. She said "Call me," and I responded, with unintentional enthusiasm, "Alright. I'll call you when you get back." She said, "sounds good."

Her final words had been flat. They were completely devoid of emotion.

It couldn't have been more obvious that she was avoiding my kiss. She had, in fact, made it all but impossible for me to kiss her; it was as bad - perhaps even worse - than if I had tried to kiss her, only for her to turn a cheek.

Running in Place

I felt miserable on the way home. Her utterance of "Call me" meant nothing. She would simply be another girl I'd spent close to $100 on only to never see again. How did she lose interest so quickly? Was it because I passed the restaurant a few times while following my GPS? Was it because I called her after only two days? The date itself had seemed to go reasonably well, though admittedly I wasn't as comfortable as on the first. Did it really make that much of a difference? When I got home, I pondered these and other questions. After 10 minutes or so, I decided to stop torturing myself.

I deleted her number from my phone.

By now, I was a little depressed. The other girl I connected with from Date #42 simply never returned my phone call - presumably because of very minor mishaps during our date. Shantelle of Date #44 happily accepted a second date, but I never saw her again. She ended up being a total flake, leaving a message the afternoon before our would-be outing, implying that it was my fault she was breaking the date because I hadn't called to talk to her for a few days (What a nut!). Everything was starting to get discouraging. And expensive.

That said, I felt better after a few days. Nick's comment after date #42 gave me some much-needed perspective. If these women lose interest after experiencing a little bit of imperfection, they're the ones with problems. And none of them are supermodels! I can do better. It's getting tiresome (and expensive), but one day it will all be worth it.

Lover

I went to a popular nightclub with my pre-mission best friend and his girlfriend to ring in the new year. It'd been a long time since we'd hung out in that setting, and he had never seen the new, uninhibited, life-of-the-party me.

I was anxious at first, both because of unrelated distractions and the fact that I hadn't gotten any real action on the dance floor in weeks. I soon silenced the inner voice of inhibition, and felt good after dancing with an attactive girl. By midnight, I was back to constantly daring and winning with gorgeous women left and right. Undoubtedly because of the holiday excitement, it was some of the most wild bumping and grinding I've ever done.

At about 12:30, I spotted another sexy girl on the dance floor and danced my way over. Another cool-looking guy seemed to ask her to dance and be rejected. Still, though, I had warmed up completely, and didn't care. I had nothing to lose, so I moved behind her, allowing her to take a glance to see what I looked like. She started dancing with her.

She was the hottest girl I'd danced with since Miami. As she moved sensuously to the music, I couldn't believe how amazing her body was as I placed my hands around her.

We were together 5 or 10 minutes, until a tall, well-dressed guy who looked like he could be a gangster came over and said something to her. I stopped dancing while waiting for her to finish speaking to him. At first, I couldn't tell whether he was upset about something, or if he was just kidding with her.

A moment later, it was clear. The guy was in my face, yelling something. With expletives removed, I soon realized he was saying something like "I'll knock you out!"

I apologized in every way I could think. "My bad. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I had no idea." I even threw in the American Sign Language sign for "I'm sorry."

Apparently, it wasn't enough. He was still in my face, and he bit me. Yes....he bit me! Right on the cheek. It didn't break the skin, but I can still feel it.

I backed up slowly as I continued my apology, and the not-so-gentle man continued his angry tirade.

I had been completley focused on my opponent. Now, I caught a glimpse of my friend walking toward me. I then realized that a huge circle had opened up around us in the overcrowded dance floor; people were both watching and trying to get out of the way of the fight.

Finally, he backed off.

As I walked away with my friends before the situation could escalate any further, I had a striking realization. I had been threatened by a total thug (he bit me!), and yet I'd felt absolutely no fear. No anxiety. There was no "fight or flight" reaction, even though if there had ever been a time to fight or flee, that was it. I focused on my opponent so that I could deal with him appropriately - I would have taken him down, if it had gone that far - but I did so without feeling fear.

I'm no jujitsu master, so it's fascinating that I could deal with a situation like that without anxiety. My question to you is this: Given my composure when facing bodily harm, does it make sense that I am nearly overwhelmed with anxiety when preparing to merely ask a girl on a date?