Turning Around My Social Life - Zero to Hero

The Brink

2009-06-03T16:29:00.000-07:00

During the past few days, my mind has been inundated with thoughts about all that my life has become. I had prophetically written about each and every key moment of the mission as a turning point, foreseeing the dramatic changes to come. First, there was the Death of Inhibition, which led to a slew of new milestones. Only a month later, I declared the Beginning of the End, feeling that my need to struggle had been assuaged. Early this year, I wrote of the Middle of the End, knowing for sure that my days of merely ordinary social ability were numbered: I would soon be heroic.

Now, after four days during which I'd done so much that once seemed impossible - being so irresistible to my date that I felt sure no better man lived; being the life of several parties; entertaining a close friend who loves me; effortlessly making new friends; confidently picking up women so easily that I had too many (six) to call; kissing a beautiful girl, and being kissed passionately by two others - I felt as if I were the world's prince, adored by most and destined for greatness.

I knew that the final turning point had arrived.

As evidenced by the perhaps hundreds of thousands of words that have been written here, I have never omitted so much detail about my experiences. While the past weekend was without doubt the best of my life, the details will for now remain private. At this turning point, I must finally allow myself to experience as ordinary those things that to me will always be remarkable. Thirty-eight days from the second anniversary of my mission's beginning, I stand at the brink of successfully completing one of the great undertakings in the history of mankind.

The Vision

2009-05-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

It started with a text. Amorita, the friend who has unwittingly been so instrumental in helping me turn my life around, asked if I wanted to hang out sometime during the week. I remembered that I already planned to go dancing with my more recent, yet very close friend Natalie, and suddenly, a divine opportunity was before me.

I had made several friends over the course of my nearly two-year-old mission, but only once had any two even been in the same room. Having a group of friends was a goal I longed for, and was a huge part of the vision for my life that has propelled me through this journey. It seems odd that I hadn't managed to get my friends together before, but they all seemed so different that I didn't know if there would be enough common ground.

There was only one way to find out.

I asked Amorita if she wanted to go to a popular strip of bars and nightclubs in the city, and she agreed. Ecstatic, I decided to go all-out and invite everyone I could. With each reply I became more and more stirred with emotion, recognizing that the coming Friday was shaping up to look like my dream for the day I'd declare mission accomplished.
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I picked up Natalie, and we were the first to arrive. For some reason, we decided to go into a cafe in the bustling city district, and I spotted an old acquaintance from college and high school.

It was another unlikely coincidence. We were in a city of 600,000, not even in the same state as our old schools. Yet as if by fate, I had encountered another person who knew me in my pre-mission past - this time, from the darkest days of paralyzing shyness. From the times when I'd go through entire school days without speaking. Writing these words, I realize that I've hardly ever mentioned this period of my life because I virtually never think about it anymore. The pain stings like a dagger wound as the images come rushing back.

Whether by fate or fortune, each of these unlikely coincidences was a chance to, in a way, experience what life would have been like without the bane of inhibition for all those years.
I told Natalie I knew the guy sitting on the sofa across the room, and that we should go over and talk to him.

And talk to him, I did. I asked what he'd been up to, inquired about another friend, made jokes about our old school, introduced Natalie, and followed every other impulse I had. My social skills were polished, and nothing short of impressive.
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In all, eight had been invited, and five were planning to come out. I was in awe at the moment the final two made their appearance in the cafe. This was my group of friends, all of whom I'd met recently:

Natalie - A 24-year-old Dutch Ph.D. student. We'd met after I posted an ad on craigslist asking if anyone knew of a hip-hop dance studio, with no real intention of meeting anyone. She asked me to let her know if I found out, and we soon learned that we'd gone to the same university at the same time. Since meeting to take a class together, we'd hung out more weeks than not. I've never connected with anyone else in the same way as with Natalie, and she will probably be the first person who knows me that will see this blog.

Bina - A 36-year-old software engineering manager who asked me to take her number at SuperBar. We'd gone out twice before I suggested that we should just be friends, citing the age difference. I'd seen her again three more times since.

Amorita - A 27-year-old law clerk. The one who means the most to me, she was the first person I met when I started the mission in August 2007. Even though I was very inhibited that day and had virtually no social skills to speak of, she still wanted to hang out again. After I'd responded to her craigslist ad, she'd said that she was going to get me out of my shell, and that's precisely what she helped me do. Now, we've hung out more times than I can count. She tells me about all of the guys she dates, as if I were here closest girlfriend, and she is, in fact, the only person in the world (blog readers notwithstanding) who knows about my own superfluous dating.

Janessa - Amorita's friend, who I'd met at last summer's birthday parties and had hung out with a few more times while with Amorita.

Neol a - A 30-year-old Drug Enforcement Agency analyst. She was the first girl whose phone number I ever asked for after striking up some conversation at Amorita's party, soon after the amazing tide-turning event we know as The Death of Inhibition.

Finally, it had happened. What would be to most people an ordinary moment, not garnering even a second thought, meant far, far more to me. This moment, where I was surrounded by five friends, was the apex of my life.

Early in the blog, I wrote about how difficult the "group situation" always was for me. Now, it was anything but. I'd had little practice, but a lifetime of observation and admiration for the socially adept was paying off. I skillfully kept everyone involved in the conversation, shifting my attention around as I spoke. I told one friend things that I knew about another in order to establish common ground between them. For example, I announced that Bina and Neola had both just finished school. It was really only a tangential relation, since one had gotten an MBA and one had been doing training for drug enforcement, but it got them talking to each other. I also made as many jokes as ever, and even told some brief stories. As happy as I was with my effortless social ability, I was most delighted when the girls found topics of dicussion without any input from me. Perhaps they could be friends with each other after all.

After a couple of hours at the cafe - time seemed to go fast - we headed over to one of the bars, where we danced until closing time. After a few hugs outside, we said goodnight.

On the way back to Natalie's place, we chatted lightheartedly as usual. When I joked about how awesome I was, she stopped me, and took a serious tone.

She wanted me to know that she agreed.

I realized then that not only do I have friends, but I have great friends who admire me.
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The main reason that this post doesn't mark the end of my mission is that the vision included more than friendship: there was also the matter of romance.

The following Friday, I was exhausted, as I usually am following a workweek with far too inadequate sleep. I was so tired that I was nearly in tears, but I was determined to go out anyway. In fact, my experience had almost always been that the worst I felt before going out, the better my night would be. Several of the best nights of my life had started out in the same manner; what would happen this time?

I returned to the city nightlife district once again, this time alone. After breaking a sweat with a few songs on the dance floor, I headed upstairs for a drink.

The bar was full. After waiting for a while, I thought about trying the bar on the other side of the room - where I'd been served immediately before - but for some reason, I stayed.

Soon, a spot opened up on the right-hand corner, next to a pretty, dark-haired girl. I'd noticed a couple guys talking to her while I waited, and had mentally registered them as being a boyfriend and a friend.

I came over and stood next to her, at first saying nothing as I continued to wait. After a few moments, our hands bumped as she lowered her blue drink while I reached for napkins to wipe some of the sweat away from my face.

"Excuse me....", I said.

A few moments later, she asked if I was waiting for a drink, and I told her I was.

As we watched the bartender serve a couple ladies who had just arrived, she joked that you had to have boobs to get a drink there. I agreed, saying that I forgot to wear my makeup and my push-up bra, adding a funny gesture to go along with the joke.

I hadn't even been trying to start a conversation, but now, the ice was broken. I realized that she was the one trying to start a conversation with me.

Apparently she'd decided to use her beauty to get the bartender's attention, and asked what I wanted. She laughed when I joked that I was a heavy drinker, but said that I wanted a Sprite. I told her I'd never even tried alcohol, and got the usual reaction of surprise and curiosity as to the reason.

Before I knew it, the conversation was rolling along. I hesitate to write that I was relaxed and uninhibited, as that has come to virtually always be the case.

I asked, "Where's your crew?" and learned that she was at the club alone. It was quite unusual for a lady to come to a nightclub by herself, so I inquired further, and learned that one of her girlfriends was a bartender there. She asked where my crew was, and I said I was also alone.

"I came out to dance. My friends slow me down. You know, the kind of friends who want to leave early? I never leave a party until it's over."

I then decided to explain something I'd been thinking about during the drive to the city:

"Some people come out to relax, and some people come out to cut loose. I'm a cut-loose type of person."

After talking about her job for a few minutes, I asked if she knew the male bartender's name so I could get his attention. She couldn't remember, so I followed up by asking, "What's your name?"

Morgan.

Not telling a woman my name and instead waiting for her to ask was my litmus test for interest, but her friend came over before she could say anything else. Morgan stopped her, and finally ordered the Sprite for me. I said, "Thanks, Morgan," and she soon asked my name.

I asked if I detected a slight accent in her voice, and learned that she was from Poland. After she said she lived in the city and I told her I lived in the suburbs, we started debating which was better. She laughed and gently hit me during our playful argument, which went on for a while, and I recognized it as an obvious sign of attraction and interest.

More importantly, Morgan and I were having a great time chatting at the bar. I'd met Rayna in line outside of a club, but otherwise, Morgan would be the first romantic connection I'd made with neither the use of dance nor the Internet.

It was getting late, and I knew that Morgan had to be up early for work the next day, so she was probably just sticking around to keep talking to me. I told her I needed to go dance and might be heading next door. "Give me your number in case I don't see you again," I said as I pulled out my phone and started adding her name.

I added her number, made a comment about the area code, told her to have fun, and headed off to dance.

On the dance floor, I was the life of the party - just like always. It's a remarkable feat, really: only months ago, I was too inhibited to even imagine dancing in public. Now, I dance with such vigor that I never leave a nightclub without my shirt being soaked in sweat. Combined with ever-developing skill, my free spirit invariably entertains countless other patrons. I've come so far that I actually now become annoyed when I feel people aren't paying enough attention to my moves. On this night, I went outside for a walk after spending some time on both dance floors. When I returned, a girl who I didn't particularly remember came over and insisted that I had to dance in the center of the floor.

Being an entertainer was beyond my vision.
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While it looked like the romantic part of my grand vision might finally be realized with Rayna, that no longer looks to be the case. She sent me a text a few days after our date, asking if I was going to class at the dance studio we attend. When I called her later that night - a mistake, no doubt - I found myself a little uncomfortable, and there was even a rare awkward silence in the conversation. I asked if she wanted to get together again before she'd leave for her two-week vacation the next week, but she gave me the "possibly" answer I'd heard before winning her over on our first date. She left for vacation without calling, and I've been growing less and less interested with each passing day.

Instead of allowing a lull to materialize, I met up for my first date with Kelly, a girl I'd spent a night dancing with at a club. She gave me a call when she had trouble finding the pool hall, where I was standing outside in the rain with a big golf umbrella.

As I talked to Kelly, two very cute girls - a blonde and a brunette - ran up to me to get underneath the umbrella. I asked if they were going to the pool place, and offered to walk them to the door. The brunette thanked me, and said, "You're so cute!" I tried to dismiss the interaction since I was on the phone with my date, but the brunette told me her name was Angela, and said that I should come hang out tonight. I told her I already had plans, and finally was able to get back to the phone call.

Kelly heard the whole thing, and asked if I was making friends without her.

I told her I was trying to fend them off.

While Kelly drove around looking for the pool hall, I went inside. There again were the two girls. I was immediately confident as we chatted, making jokes and going through the usual bit about me never having had a drink. I was very interested in the adorable brunette named Angela, and took a seat with the pair when she asked. After chatting for a few minutes more, I wanted to get Angela's phone number, but knew it would be too hurtful to my date if she were to find out. Instead, I gave Angela my amazingly handy Feycebook card, which she said was very nice.

In short, the date with Kelly went perhaps more easily than any other. I was so comfortable that it didn't even feel as if I were on a date. Unfortunately, I wasn't interested, and knew it would be best not to kiss her goodnight, despite some attraction and the fact that I was surely amazing in her eyes.
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Finally, I've decided that it's time to try something new. I've now been on 58 dates, and have described almost all of them in this blog. On a mission with so much already done, one of the remaining experiences to be had is a simple one: date someone privately, without sharing the details online.

When I find that one special girl who completes The Vision, I promise you'll read all about her. In the meantime, we'll use the blog to explore other new, great things.

Dancing on the Grave: An Epic Milestone

2009-05-03T20:10:00.000-07:00

As I headed toward the parking garage from SuperBar, light drizzle rained from the early morning sky as a cool breeze swayed gently across my body. I was distinctly relaxed, observing my surroundings as I walked, carefree, engulfed completely by a sense of fulfillment.

I had reached the confluence of dreams and reality.

A homeless man stopped me, calling out "Hey, Shirt!" in observation of my stylish attire. I played along with his questions about who the President and Vice President of the United States were. He then asked for money, but I didn't mind giving him a couple dollars. I couldn't possibly have minded giving him a couple dollars, because I had just experienced my best night of my life.
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After my date with Rayna, I went home, watched the basketball game, and headed out to SuperBar. It had been five weeks since my last visit, which was easily the longest I'd stayed away since first discovering the bustling nightclub. Because I'd arrived later than usual, the lines outside were so long that Danny, my bouncer friend, couldn't possibly have seen me at the end. I had no intention of waiting long, so I walked around the line to the side where Danny was checking ID's and letting people in.

Just as I got around the line, Bina saw me and called my name. We'd become good friends since my readers convinced me to stop dating her. She'd invited me to a birthday party that night, saying that the group might come by SuperBar for dancing afterwards. She asked how long the wait would be in line, but I told her that she and her friend could just come in with me.

A moment later, Danny saw me, came over, and shook my hand. I usually don't sound or feel as confident talking to him, but with Bina around, my confidence exuded as I alternated between calling him "Danny" and "D," a nickname I'd given him. He asked how many people I had with me, then said it was no problem. As he gave the girls VIP passes, I asked how everything had been, and said I liked his outfit. I was an impressive, smooth-talking gentleman who didn't need to wait in line to get in. I thanked Danny once more, and the ladies were thoroughly impressed by my great connection at the club. On the inside, Bina said she and her friend would leave me to "do my thing." And so, I did my thing.
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Perhaps because everything had gone so smoothly outside the club, I found for the first time that I didn't really need any time to warm up socially. I started full-blown dancing as soon as I hit the floor, and realized that I was actually a good dancer. Glancing behind me, I noticed that people sitting were smiling as they watched. As I continued on the dance floor, I saw others watching me and apparently pointing me out to friends, causing a few heads to turn. Dancing for hours most Friday and Saturday nights, going to dance class every week, and occasionally practicing in private had allowed me to develop a great new social skill.

The main level dance floor was still relatively sparse, and oddly enough, I didn't see any girls who I was very interested in dancing with. I started to think that my feelings for Rayna were diminishing my interest in other women, but instead of analyzing, I decided to go upstairs for a drink.

I had asked the pretty bartender Maria her name the last time I saw her, and as usual entered it into a note in my cell phone to make sure I'd remember.

"It's Maria, right?"
She said something inaudible, which I thought was a no.
"It's not?"
"It is! You sound unsure of yourself."
"Oh, I thought you said no! And I knew that was really your name, so I thought you were just messing with me."

I would joke around with her more later in the evening. It was a good start to the night, with me feeling as loose as ever in both dance and conversation. I took a seat in the basement, drank my bottle of water, and headed back upstairs to the main dance floor.

As I walked up the stairs, I noticed that my favorite song was playing. It became my favorite when I first heard it in Miami while a beautiful girl danced in my arms. Since then, I've always tried to dance with a pretty girl every time I've heard it.

I danced my way from the stairwell to the dance floor, singing boisterously along. When the first girl I tried to dance with dodged me, I moved on immediately, without even stopping for a moment. As I moved down the floor to find another partner, I inadvertently bumped a girl who was dancing behind me. She seemed to bump me back on purpose, so I decided to play and dance back-to-back with her, with my backside bumping against hers.

She was fun. When I turned around, I knew that she wanted to dance with me normally, so I had found a partner for the second half of my song. I noticed that her friends were a group I'd interacted with before. In fact, I'd spent a long time dancing with her tall friend a couple months ago, and had even asked for her phone number - before I started having so much success.

After a couple songs, I asked her name.

"Theresa. What's yours?"

I told her I'd met her friends a while back. She apparently remembered me herself - they'd probably talked about me afterwards - because she told me which friend it had been. I recalled what I remembered from that night, asking if she was also from Europe.

She was very happy to be dancing with me. I got the feeling that she'd been jealous of her friend the night we'd been together a while back; Theresa had probably been wishing it were her.

And now, only a few hours after I'd been bewildered by the lack of physicality on my third date with Rayna, I was getting very physical with a girl I'd known only minutes. A young German girl with long hair, Theresa looked extremely sexy in her short white skirt. As we grinded sensually to the music, we first held hands. Then, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her around her stomach. She took my hands again, and I raised them above her head. We played with each other's bodies for a while, and though nothing new to me, it was as fun as ever.

I told her that she smelled good.
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It all started in seventh grade, if not before. On a bus field trip to Luray Caverns, I sat in the back with a group of my classmates, who were playing a game. They'd dare one of the girls to kiss a certain boy, or vice versa. As I sat silently - paralyzed with the shyness that robbed me of so many experiences as a child - I was fascinated by the french kiss.

That fascination never subsided. As the years passed, I thought about it. When the World Wide Web became popular, I read about it. Even up to the past few months, I studied it in videojug.com videos. For so many years, I dreamt about it, and wondered what it would be like.

After that kiss with Rayna a few hours earlier - where I thought there was some slim chance she was trying to open her mouth - I realized that it would be hard to tell, since I had no firsthand experience with an open-mouthed kiss at almost age 26. I realized that if I were to finally kiss her like that, I might not know what to do, despite the articles and videos. If I were too awkward on my very first try, it might strike her as an odd thing for a 25-year-old.

I'd pondered it so much between the date and going to SuperBar that I had already started trying to come up with a solution, weighing my options. I thought that maybe I should make a move on my friend Natalie. We'd become such good friends that I had several times wondered if she were actually my best friend. She's moving back to Europe this month, so what would it matter? Or maybe, I thought, I'd make a move on Kelly. She lived too far away for there to be any real potential for us, but she was so crazy about me that I could easily make out with her. Then there was another girl I'd met at SuperBar, who lived on the opposite coast of the country, but would be in town for a wedding next week. Maybe I'd take her out, and make a move on her in effort to get some practice before things went further with Rayna.

And then, there was the best option.

Back on the very first night I went to a nightclub alone, I saw a stylishly dressed guy with sunglasses making out with a beautiful girl. I was in absolutely awe, since they apparently had just met that night. I then adapted my style to his, never showing up to a nightclub without sunglasses and a designer shirt.

It seemed like whenever I went out dancing, I'd notice some couple who had just met kissing. These people were getting more action within minutes or, at best, hours after meeting each other than I ever did, in total, in my entire life. Why couldn't that be me?

It could be. I had made it a goal a while back to kiss a girl in a nightclub, and probably could have accomplished it months ago, had I only live by the words he who is afraid of going too far will never find out how far one can go.
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Back in the moment, I was in the middle of the dance floor with Theresa. We had separated and faced each other for a while so that we could talk - I said I liked her necklace - but she was now in my arms once again. I pressed the side of my face against hers as we continued grinding to the music, and it had gotten as hot and heavy as ever. Suddenly, I had a clairvoyant-like feeling that something was about to happen. I recalled my goal, and realized that this could be it.

I kissed Theresa's neck sensually. She turned, smiled, and said "Thank you..."

It was a different reaction.

Shortly afterwards, I kissed the side of her neck again. She turned, smiled again, and looked at me with a sweet expression. This time, she didn't turn away, and I knew what she wanted me to do.

Without any further thought, I kissed her lips. They were soft, moist, and wonderful. My eyes were closed as we continued to gently press our lips together for a few seconds.

She started slowly opening her mouth. This time, it was unmistakable, and I knew from years of articles, videos, and dreams what to do.

I opened my mouth too, and the next thing I knew, I felt her tongue. I also felt teeth, which for some reason I didn't expect. She flicked her tongue from side to side against mine, and I followed her lead when she slowly closed her mouth.

Finally, after over 13 years of immense yearning, I had kissed a girl. I had really kissed a girl, and had done it in the middle of a crowded room, dancing on the grave of my shyness.

I exalted in jubilation. It was a struggle to play it cool, with only my sunglasses helping to conceal my joy, which after only a few seconds forced my face to explode into a smile as I looked around for witnesses. I was happy to spot a short Indian guy about 30 - whose name I really need to find out - that I frequently see at SuperBar, speak to, and look for girls with. He nodded at me.

I wondered for a moment how badly I had done, if at all. Then, Theresa turned around again. And again, we kissed. This time, as I felt her tongue flick against mine, I took the lead by moving deep inside her mouth, slowly and sensually circling my tongue around hers.

Soon afterwards, we kissed yet again, with Theresa necessarily being the instigator since she was facing away from me.

I realized that since she kept initiating more kissing, I couldn't have been bad at all. I understood that there was no real way to mess it up. The mere intimacy and physical sensations of having the tongue of someone you're attracted to in your mouth, and vice versa, was in itself mind blowing.

After a while, she said she was going to go find her friends, who had left us alone. I moved on to give my witness friend five, shake his hand, and hear a few words indicating how throughly impressed he was. I then got back to dancing with the other club patrons.

Soon, I ended up dancing next to another girl who looked like she was having fun. I was doing an improvised foot-shuffle dance move in great rhythm to the song, and started a little ass bumping with the girl. She was delighted and impressed by my moves, saying she needed to learn my foot shuffle. I asked where she was from, and mentioned the dance studios in the city before asking her name. We ended up hanging out again on the VIP floor at the end of the night with some other guys we'd played around with, and I gave her a Feycebook card before I left. She sent me a message the next morning.

It was about an hour before I saw Theresa again, so I wondered if maybe she didn't think the kissing was as great as I did.

Other guys had been constantly talking to and trying to dance with her in my absence. When the DJ played Ain't No Mountain High Enough, I was nearby. She looked over and saw me, then moved away from her latest suitor.

I sang aloud boisterously as I took her back into my arms. As we danced, she turned again for me to kiss her, and I did. A few minutes later, I once more delighted in the sensation of slowly massaging the inside of her mouth with my tongue. It was a long, deep kiss, and my fifth or sixth with her - maybe seventh - that night.

We ended it slowly. As I opened my eyes, I continued to kiss her moist, wonderful, full lips for a few moments more. Her eyes were still closed as she indulged fully in the moment, swooning in pleasure as her lips remained fused with mine.

When I left the confines of the building later on, I felt that finally, I had lived.

Date #57

2009-05-03T16:07:00.000-07:00

After our second date, Rayna called again a couple nights later. She'd called so many times that I was amazed at the difference between being involved with her and all of the other women I've met over the past 21 months. We talked for about 15 minutes, but without setting up another date - I hadn't yet prepared for that.

That Thursday, I sent a text asking if she'd be free on Sunday. At first she responded that she didn't think she would be busy, but then called again on Saturday. She now said that she was scheduled to work, but would make some calls and try to get a coworker to switch shifts with her.

Rayna ended up leaving me a voicemail, sounding a bit down, saying that she wasn't able to find someone to switch times with. It was perfectly fine with me, and I was happy to see the lengths she was willing to go just to spend time with me. Seeing that level of interest from a woman was definitely something special.

After a few more texts and phone calls - much more communication than I'd had with anyone else I dated - we planned to get together on Saturday.
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This time, I finally insisted on picking her up at her home. I joked that this way she might actually be on time, since she'd been quite late for our first two dates. Still, she wasn't ready when I arrived, and said I had to give her another five minutes. Again, I was happy to see the effort that she was putting in to be her best with me.

When she got in the car, a sweet scent perfumed the air, and I loved it. She looked fantastic, and I was excited to be with her once again. I made a few humorous comments and kicked off the conversation, then drove us a couple towns over for a game of mini-golf.

I explained the scoring system, then surprised myself at how clearly I was able to teach how her to putt. The mini-golf game itself was far from fantastic - and a cheap date at 10 bucks for both of us - but just like with bowling, we were laughing and having a good time.

When I picked her up at 4:30, Rayna had reminded me that she needed to be at her friend's dance show at 8:00. Forgetting this, I asked if she wanted to go eat, and she did.

With little other activity to distract us from our conversation, it was now much like the meals we'd shared on our first and second dates. I could again see obvious signs that Rayna was very concerned with how I viewed her. Twice when I casually asked about her tattoos, she was slightly defensive, avoiding the topic at first, then saying that it wasn't as if she were covered in them. I had given no opinion about tattoos, but she was clearly worried hat I might find them to be a turnoff.

When I returned from the bathroom, I noticed something interesting. Rayna absolutely lit up after I sat back down, momentarily gazing over at me with a big smile on her face. I knew exactly what she was feeling: she was delighted and in awe of the fact that she was with me, and that things were going so well between us.

The feeling was mutual. Realizing that it was our third date and that now we'd have the privacy of her doorstep to say goodbye, I felt a surge of anxiety from time to time as the possibility of more intimate physical contact hit me.

As we talked, I was struck by how beautiful Rayna was. When I first met her in line outside of a nightclub, I noticed that she was a sweet, pretty girl, but not like this. She must have let her hair down, but it couldn't have made that much of a difference. Somehow, she now seemed to have flawless beauty. I knew it didn't make sense, and tried to see her normally once again, but found it to be impossible.

Finally, I understood what was going on: I was afflicted. Afflicted by the most powerful of devices devised by Mother Nature, God, or both in order to keep men and women together for the good of humanity. I was afflicted, to at least some degree, by what we call love.

After the busgirl took away Rayna's plate, I suddenly realized we'd been at the restaurant a long time. I checked my phone, and it was 7:27. Rayna really needed to be at her friend's performance at 8:00, but we had both completely forgotten about the time. She asked if I wanted to come, but I already had plans. After getting the waiter's attention and telling him we were in a hurry, I paid cash for the check, and we headed out.

On the way back to her house, I found myself doing an unusual amount of talking about myself. I typically spend most of the time asking questions and discussing things going on in the the other person's life, but for some reason I now felt like saying more about myself. I told her how I kept getting traffic tickets from the city cameras, and told her a story about a bad experience I'd had at a restaurant we passed. My storytelling could still use some work, but I enjoyed the deviation from the usual conversation so much that I was actually excited to tell her Rayna some things.

When we arrived back at her place, she said she wasn't going in the house before leaving for the performance - she was already late - so I said I'd walk her to her car. It would be the first time I'd ever kissed a girl for a third time, and so I was a bit nervous.

After I made a comment about how neatly the items in the garage were arranged, she started to hug me. I tried to avoid it so as not to end the date exactly the same way as the first two - with a hug followed immediately by a kiss - but was unable, so I held her gently for a moment.

In that first moment after the hug, there was something odd. I can't quite pinpoint it, but it seemed as if she weren't looking directly at me. Whatever it was, it gave me the feeling that she was reluctant to kiss me. I kissed her anyway, but the subtle feeling I'd gotten discouraged me from doing so passionately. It ended up being short and forgettable.

As I drove home, I felt negative feelings, in stark contrast to my bouncing-of-the-walls enthusiasm after our second date. It had been great until that last moment, which left me feeling unfulfilled.

I couldn't figure out what that vibe was before the kiss. She had lit up in speechless joy at the sight of me only a couple hours ago. My storytelling skills weren't great, and I might have shown a little nervousness in the final few minutes, but surely those things couldn't have had much of an effect on her interest.

What was up with this girl and kissing? This time, was she just being awkward because she'd forgotten to bring her lipgloss? Or because she'd had garlic in her dish at dinner? Or was she nervous the same way I was about the prospect of getting much more physical? And maybe still it was the fact that her family lived in the same house and might walk in on us.

I didn't know what to make of it. As I decided to just let it go and see if she'd be the one to call first again, I started thinking. It actually felt like she'd opened her mouth a bit when I kissed her. Was she trying to french kiss me? If not, why were we getting less physical on our third date? I'd gotten much more physical with girls at nightclubs whose names I didn't even know, yet I had been talking to Rayna on the phone and in person for well over a month!

Little did I know that the antidote to my worry about Rayna lay just hours ahead. I had obliviously set in motion a chain of events that would lead to the evening becoming the best night of my entire life.

Date #56

2009-05-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

After our first date, Rayna sent me the typical follow-up text message the next morning, saying she'd had a great time, and that she'd talk to me soon. Unlike almost all of the others, though, she wasn't leaving the pursuit up to me. After work that night, she actually picked up the phone and made the call herself.

Once again, talking to her was effortless. I'd had nothing planned, but kept the conversation moving along by asking questions and making jokes about things she told me. There was no mention of having had a good time on our date, and there were no obvious getting-to-know you questions. Instead, it was as if I were talking to someone with whom I already had an established relationship. As usual, I ended the conversation - this time after half an hour - because Rayna seemed content to chat all night.

The next morning, I had surgery to extract all four of my wisdom teeth. It was an interesting experience from the perspective of the mission, because I had started out being an uninhibited jokester from the first day I'd met the staff at the doctor's office. One of the critical issues in overcoming shyness and inhibition is the fact that it's very difficult to change that persona with people who are already accustomed to it, but ultimately very easy to be uninhibited as long as you're that way with people from the start. As this may be my final hurdle, the phenomenon will be addressed fully before this blog comes to an end.

Afterwards, Rayna sent me a text, asking how I did. I told her it was insanely fun, because I'd had laughing gas, and had never tried alcohol or anything like that. She texted back a compliment, saying I had a great attitude and she liked that.

A couple days later, she called again. I noticed that she led the conversation around to finding out whether or not I had any kids (ha!!), which was understandable since she hadn't had the luxury of reading my online profile. She then started talking casually about having kids, asking if I thought I'd have a girl (ha...) and that her mother always says she will. Yep - she liked me. I ended the conversation a few minutes later, saying I'd probably try to catch up with her the next week after I'd healed. She told me her schedule, and a couple of phone calls later, date #56 was arranged.
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After making a return to the dance floors after a rare missed weekend following my surgery, I was exhausted the morning I was to meet up again with Rayna. As great as things had been going with her, this led me to feel anxious in the hours and minutes leading up to our second date.

Finally, she walked through the door of the bowling alley. I spoke to her, made a joke, and my anxiety evaporated. Ironically, she was a source of confidence, with me being more comfortable with her than without.

It was a piece of cake. 2-player bowling didn't leave much time for conversation, so I mostly joked about how bad we both were, teasing Rayna about her awful form. Of course, my ease with Rayna was fueled by a few well-documented principles, like being open and sharing whatever thoughts came to mind. After practicing on so many dates and other social activities, these have become completely natural.

I was certain that my date was having a good time. Not only did she smile and laugh throughout the games, but I also picked up a clear vibe from her. Once when I turned around after my bowl, I saw that she was putting on some chapstick, not really paying attention to the alley. I had the distinctive feeling that she was less interested in the actual game than in how well things were going with her date, hoping that would continue. I could feel this instinctively, especially after experiencing it myself so many times.

After losing both games, I suggested that we head over to a restaurant to eat dinner. She happily agreed, and we went to a hibachi grill in the shopping center. Now, there would be little more than just conversation, but I was confident talking to her and actually looked forward to it.

I'd thought of a few topics earlier, but after so many phone conversations, I was sure doing so wasn't necessary. We talked about whatever came up, and again, it was all so easy. Early on, I noticed Rayna used a local slang term I hadn't heard anyone but me say since high school. I let it go at first, but later was sure to tell her what I was thinking. Old slang terms was a fun topic I'd thought of a long time ago, but Rayna didn't want to say much about it. She was obviously avoiding it because she didn't want me to think that she was somehow less intelligent or anything like that for using slang, but of course, that was merely her own inhibition kicking in. I realized that having a good image in front of me was important to her.

I was completely on my game. I made good jokes, and whenever something came to mind, I simply said it. For example, when I asked Rayna what musicians she likes, we had no favorites in common. In the old days I would have just listened and nodded, trying to avoid drawing attention to our differences. Now, though, I interjected, "OK! I'm just waiting for you to name someone I've heard of...." I even found myself doing some rare talking about myself and, for perhaps the first time, about my feelings, as I told Rayna that my director at work had just left, and that he'd been one of my favorite people in the whole world.

We kept talking after the plates were cleared, until the restaurant had closed and started turning the lights off. We both laughed and agreed it was our cue to leave.

While we were talking, I had looked at Rayna and marveled to myself at how attractive I found her. I was dying to kiss her again. Now, as I pushed the door open for her and we walked outside, my mind shifted again towards those thoughts as I put the conversation on auto-pilot.

I'd always tried to put on chapstick when my dates weren't looking, so as not to seem presumptous or anything like that. With no such opportunity this time, I had to use it in front of her. It was a somewhat clumsy prelude to a beautiful romantic act, but there was no way around the fact that chapstick makes kisses better. After I casually applied some of the stuff, Rayna did the same a few moments later as we talked on our way back to the cars.

We'd met at the bowling alley instead of driving together, so our goodbye would again have to take place in public. A couple in a car in front of Rayna's was standing outside, so I talked a bit more about something my boss had told me. Luckily, the couple had driven away by the time I finished.

I said I'd better let her get out of the cold.

She hugged me. I kept her in my arms afterwards, and immediately kissed her.

This time, it felt as if my kiss were fueled by raw emotion. I really liked Rayna. As her moist, soft lips pressed against mine, my energy shifted towards extending the kiss instead of pulling back. After 2 or 3 seconds - it seemed like longer - I felt her smile, and our lips separated. She moved closer, pressing her body gently against mine. She said, "I'm really not used to this, I swear," and rubbed my back in another embrace. I didn't have time to fully process what her comment meant, so I merely said alright, told her to have a good night, and drove away.

Date #55: A Hero's Roar

2009-04-12T20:08:00.000-07:00

When I got ready to call Rayna, I felt a little anxious. Perhaps that was understandable, since it would be the first time I'd ever called a girl after asking for her number in person. What would it be like? Would she answer? Would she remember me by name alone? As my anxiety grew, I thought momentarily about not calling at all.

Finally, I ignored the anxiety and dialed the number. As usual when calling someone, there was no answer, and I left no message. I figured I would try calling again in a couple days.

To my surprise, she called back a few minutes later. I told her it was J - without explaining where we'd met - and she obviously knew who I was. I considered remembering me by name alone to be a necessary sign of interest, and it was a relief to receive it from Rayna.

I asked what she was up to, and it turned out she was about to head out to another club. I half-jokingly told her I was impressed that she was going out to party on a Thursday night, and followed up by asking if she had to work the next day. I was finding it easy to move from one topic to another, and learned that she worked at a non-profit organization in the city.

More interesting was the fact that she'd been to a dance class earlier that night. I told her that I'd just gotten home from a dance class, too, and suddenly, we had something interesting in common to talk about. It was such a great coincidence that I couldn't believe I thought even for a moment about not calling. After five or six minutes, I said I'd let her head out to the club with her friend, and asked if she wanted to get together for coffee next week. She said she'd have to check her schedule, and to give her a call.

A few days later, I sent a text asking if she would be free Wednesday night. She responded that she wasn't sure, and that it depended on how much work she'd get done Monday and Tuesday. I knew from experience not to be a chump and accept any tentative dates, so I texted back that maybe we'd get together sometime when her schedule was more certain.

For almost two weeks, I didn't hear a word from Rayna. I'd decided that the ball was in her court, and that I wouldn't fall into the trap of chasing her as I did with a few girls in the early days of the mission.

As I drove one Saturday afternoon, for some reason I started thinking about Rayna. I realized that I'd practically forgotten about her entirely for a few days. I figured that it would be a waste to just delete her number, so I reasoned that I should try to be friends with her if she weren't interested. I then started planning the text message that I would send as soon as I reached my destination. I would say, "Hey Rayna, I met someone, but lets hang out as friends sometime. I'm going to dance at Diamond tonight, let me know if you want on the guest list."

I planned every word, and was less than two minutes away from my destination. As I prepared to make the final turn before the parking lot where I'd send the text message, my phone rang.

Amazingly, it was Rayna. I hadn't heard from her in almost two weeks, and now she was calling at the exact moment I was thinking about her. She was calling three minutes before I would have put her thoroughly in the proverbial friends zone.

I refrained from telling her the amazing fact that I was literally in the process of thinking about her, for the first time in days, when she called. She said that she'd been in Miami for work, which gave me plenty to talk about since I'd recently been there for vacation. I joked easily, feeling extra confident in light of the rare situation in which a woman had called me.

I talked to her once again a week later, noticing that our conversations had become progressively easier, with more and more to say each time. I decided that she was so easy to talk to that there was no need for the usual hour at Starbucks. I asked if she wanted to get some food Wednesday night, and she accepted the dinner date.
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Finally, it was happening. I had seen a woman I was interested in, talked to her, gotten her phone number, called her, asked her out, and was about to share a meal with her. At last, I had proven that I didn't need Internet services to get dates.

As I waited for Rayna in the restaurant,I knew that I was about to put an important theory to the test. I had always thought that I would have much more success dating women I'd met in person, since they wouldn't be curiously talking to and dating other purported "matches" for whom they'd paid. Not only that, but basic attraction and interest had already been established, in contrast to the you-never-know blind date.

Besides the fact that I'd met Rayna the traditional way, I had already decided that this would be the start of something new with my dating. I'd realized that with all of the dates that didn't work out, I would have done things differently had I known I'd never see the girl again. Why wouldn't I take the risk, for example, of getting physical if I would never see the person again anyway? It may not have changed things with Autumn, but I certainly could have experienced an open-mouth kiss with her, had I not been too conservative. (I'm almost 26, still looking for these firsts!) So many relationships had failed to work out that now I would treat every date as if I knew it would be my last. With this nothing-to-lose mindset, I planned to have more fun than ever.

Finally, she arrived. She gave me a hug, and said it was good to see me again.

So that was how a non-blind first date started. Not so different after all.

She said she hoped I hadn't been waiting too long. Instead of being overly nice, I said with just the faintest bit of sarcasm, "Just since 8," the time we were supposed to meet. When we spoke on the phone for the first time, I had noticed something about the tone of the conversation. It was as if she were more confident, and thought she was more knowledgeable than I. Perhaps neither of those things was entirely false, since I was the one pursuing her, and since she's 4 year my senior. Now, though, I began to feel more dominant.

After a few obvious questions, I asked Rayna a question I'd thought of in advance. She was a vegan, so I wondered whether she'd be able to find anything on the menu at a regular restaurant. The simple question gave us lots to talk about, including everything from relating my experiences as a semi-vegetarian, to my vegetarian sister, to her family's culture of eating meat, and so on. This all inevitably looks boring in text, but Rayna and I were having a great time while talking about this one topic alone. I made vegan jokes throughout the night ("At least no one had to die for that broccoli!"), and the situation was naturally humorous as she hopelessly questioned the waiter, who told her one item after another was made with some type of animal product.

It had been a solid two months since I'd been on a date, but I was as great as ever. We talked at length about dancing and other things we had in common, and I took an interest in her stories about travel to Europe and other things I haven't experienced. I effortlessly kept her smiling and laughing throughout dinner by doing nothing more than being myself. It was the self that had developed outstanding conversation skills over the course of 54 dates and a life-changing mission.

As Rayna happily continued talking after we'd both finished eating, I noticed the beautiful smile I had seen we we met outside the nightclub. I knew that I, like our evening together, had been absolutely flawless, and I knew I wanted to kiss her.

She seemed content to talk all night, so I finally asked if she was ready to head out. It must have been near closing time, because the parking lot had all but cleared. I kept talking, but was now paying little attention as all I could think about was my new philosophy and her exquisite lips.

After opening the door for Rayna, I put on some chapstick as we talked. I had never kissed on a first date, and had always thought I should do so at my date's doorstep. In the past I wouldn't have even considered it, but for all I knew, this could be the last minute Rayna and I would ever be together. I had decided to live without anything to regret should that turn out to be the case.

We reached her car.

She thanked me for dinner and gave me a hug. Somehow, it was different from others past. I wasn't merely going through the motions of hugging her with my mind elsewhere, but rather was in the moment, and looked down at her while I held her, gently brushing my lips against her head.

When the embrace ended, I moved a little closer and gave her a short, sweet kiss on the lips. She started giggling, mumbling something like " I don't even know you...." I stood and smiled as it took me a moment to process what she meant. She then said smiling, "A hug is cool..."

She apparently didn't want me to think that she was somehow easy. I knew the fact of the matter was that she could have avoided the kiss, but that there was absolutely no way she could resist me. I continued smiling, and told her to have a good night. With the smile still on her face, she exclaimed, "Talk to you soon!!"

As I drove home, I let out a chest-thumping roar. I had now seen a woman I was interested in, talked to her, gotten her phone number, called her, asked her out, kept her laughing for nearly two hours during dinner, effortlessly made myself completely irresistible, and kissed her in a public place at the end of only our first date. I had made good on my personal assertion that my opponent, who danced with Rayna the night I met her, had absolutely no chance as long as I was interested.

Early the next morning, I received a text at work.

Thank you for dinner last night. I had a great time - talk to you soon.

The end draws nearer.

The Centerpiece

2009-03-21T16:16:00.000-07:00

After my landmark breakthrough against inhibition last July, a lull in the action started to materialize. For two weeks, I had neither dates nor friends to hang out with. Determined to continue making progress, I racked my brain, trying to come up with a social activity.

And come up with a social activity, I did.

I decided to go to a nightclub. Looking back at that night, I'm astonished. At the time, my apprehension about the plan was akin to an acrophobic's anxiety about skydiving: for years, it had been nearly unthinkable. Still, though, I was pleased with my success in overcoming inhibition on even the first night. While that success was remarkable at the time, I had no idea that it would soon become laughable compared to the progress I'd make on subsequent nights. I visited nightclub after nightclub in the coming months, very rarely missing a weekend, and often going out two nights in a row. I grew less and less inhibited, soon becoming a spectacle on the dance floor as I developed skills through lessons and sheer practice.

It was soon apparent that the club scene was more than just another piece to the puzzle: it was the centerpiece. Now that I could consistently find hundreds of other people my age in a fun environment, other social opportunities paled in comparison. Not only that, but no activity gave me a better chance to act in a freer, more uninhibited manner than in dancing to hip-hop, house, and trance music. And above all, it was fun. Night after night, I had more fun than I'd once thought possible. For me - perhaps since I missed out almost entirely on social activities for most of my life - clubbing is an activity that just never gets old; the fiftieth time was at least just as fun as the first.

As spectacularly as I had shattered any conceivable perception of me being shy, I realized in the past month or so that there was still one big area in which I could improve: talking to people. My fun, inhibited dance skills had entertained countless people - some of whom I talked to, and a few who I gave Feycebook cards - but aside from my one date-turned-friend, nothing had stuck. Now that I'd made good on my goal of abandoning online dating, the nightclub would be one of my only avenues for finding dates. And so, I decided to start by making an effort to merely speak to many more people.
________________

I started by speaking to people who were in line with me. Since it is always difficult to hear over the loud music inside, talking outside in line afforded a better opportunity to start getting to know someone. At the same time, it was less comfortable, leaving me feeling exposed with nowhere to escape if for some reason I wanted to. But of course, I did it anyway.

In general, I got in the habit of saying whatever came to mind when someone was standing near me. Sometimes it led to only a brief exchange, but other times, the effects were much more powerful. For instance, at one new club, I commented to the two ladies in front of me that the staff was making us wait even though there was no one actually inside. We chatted casually about nightclubs while we waited, and I learned that the more attractive lady was from the same suburb as me. She told the host that I was her +1 on the guest list, and we separated inside.

That began an interesting night. I sat alone on a sofa in the sparsely populated new club, until the ladies from outside came over to chat with me. When they announced they were leaving, I got the feeling that they were in no hurry; it was clearly an excuse to talk to me again. I said it was way too early to leave, and they took a seat on the sofa with me.

As the more attractive woman sat close to me, I noticed how amazingly low-cut her blouse was. She seemed seductive as we chatted, and her intent was soon verified by her friend, who blurted out, "Would you ever [have sex with] a married woman?"

I looked down and saw the ring. I remarked that I usually didn't have to check for that at nightclubs. She continued to flirt with me, saying that I was cute. I quickly responded in a playful, arrogant way, "I know." When she eventually asked me to dance with her, I led her to the dance floor, with no hope of hiding my attraction as we did the bump and grind.

When she got ready to leave, I told her I'd see her around, but that I'd play it cool if I saw her with her husband. She asked if I would like to call her sometime. I told her no, citing the fact that her friend had said earlier that the husband is a police officer. Besides, I would dance, but I wasn't willing to have an affair with a married woman. Still, I realized that the exchange had - in some sense - made me a virgin by choice.

After the ladies left, I got back to my usual antics, putting on a show on the dance floor. I was uninhibited in both dance and conversation, and spent much of the rest of the night talking to a girl who I became very interested in. I'll skip that story - one of very many since - because it ended with me giving her a Feycebook card and never hearing from her again.
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At some point, I realized that it shouldn't be difficult to find dates at nightclubs. On any given night, I danced the most sexual of dances with several girls, sometimes escalating the physical contact beyond just dancing. Plenty of girls were obviously attracted to me, so what was stopping them from going on dates with me? I simply had to talk to them.

I verified my suspicion early on. After one girl asked me to dance, I simply asked her name after we'd been together for a few minutes. Providing the requisite return signal of interest (or, at least politeness), she asked mine in return. I then asked where she was from, and we had a light conversation about clubbing, regional weather, her friends, and similar topics over the loud music. I put on some of my fun dance moves when the music changed appropriately, and she was obviously very happy to be dancing with me. She was so happy, in fact, that she couldn't stop smiling, repeatedly wiping the overflowing sweat from my face with her bare hands.

I asked if she was on Feycebook and gave her one of my cards, but she then said she didn't use it much. When I tried to take the card back, she pouted, gripping it tighter. I told her I'd get her phone number instead. She said she'd be back in town for her friends' wedding in May, and asked if she would see me then. Of course she would! She smiled happily and gave me a kiss on the cheek before she left.
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One Friday night before that, I couldn't quite decide which nightclub I wanted to attend. Finally, I decided to flip a coin, and abide by whatever fate it suggested.

The quarter sent me to one of the nation's largest superclubs. Once inside, I immediately realized that it was an ethnically homogeneous club; I had much preferred the great diversity of SuperBar and the other club that lost the coin flip. No one was dancing, and the women seemed stuck up even from their manner of dress. I started to lament getting heads instead of tails: to waste a perfectly good night on a bad club was a terrible thing.

As I stood motionless by the wall in pathetic contrast to my activity at SuperBar, a guy came by and asked what was in the room behind us. I asked if it was his first time at the club, and he said no. Apparently, the purpose of his question was not to gain knowledge, but to actually just make conversation with me! We talked about other clubs, and I told him how deserted the new club I'd tried last week had been. He stopped to speak to some of the pretty girls who were passing by, and asked one of them if she had heard of the new club I told him about. She was extremely rude, ignoring him with a scolding expression. We both laughed, and remarked at how stuckup the girls were at this particular club.

I could tell that Ryan was like me. Somehow, it was obvious to me that he was intelligent and educated. Sure enough, I found out that he was an engineer, just like me. Coincidentally, he also lived in the same town, and was also house hunting. As we continued chatting, I told him I had a new trick for picking up ladies - the Feycebook card. I showed him one, and he said it was nice, and he'd have to look into getting one made. When he handed it back to me, I told him to keep it. Ryan and I hung out the rest of the night, searching for ladies to dance with. I told him he should come to SuperBar with me sometime, and the next morning I saw that he had added me on Feycebook. We exchanged numbers, and 19 months into the mission, I had made my first male friend.

It was only possible because I got heads instead of tails.
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On another Friday night, I decided to try a different nightclub I'd heard about. As usual, I went alone. When I saw that I had arrived early - there was no line at the club - I paced the city, looking for someone to talk to.

I didn't find anyone. Eventually, I walked back to the club and got in line.

I thought about talking to the girls in front of me. I had little motivation, because I didn't find them attractive. Then, a pretty girl got in line alone behind me. I thought for a moment or two, then asked an obvious question.

"Is this place any good?"

She said she hadn't been in a while, but it had been the last time she came. I asked where she was from, and amazingly, she was from the same suburb as me. With a surprised tone in my voice - a subtle sign that I was in an uninhibited state - I told her that I had been meeting a lot of people from our suburb lately. She joked that there wasn't exactly much to do where we lived, and I noticed how pretty her smile was.

Her name was Rayna. We talked for a few minutes more while waiting in line. With a little common ground established, it was easy. She told me where she went to high school, and I half-jokingly bragged about how much better my school is at both academics and sports. When I asked if she'd come alone, I learned that she was meeting friends inside. She then said that she was just coming out casually, and emphasized it again while pointing out her jeans and shirt, saying it was "real casual." At that moment, it was obvious that she cared about my opinion of her; she was interested in me.

On the inside, I made a couple comments about the music, then told Rayna I was going off to dance.

I was dancing freely and having a good time, but held off on approaching any other women. Amazingly, I recognized a beautiful girl - without exaggeration, the prettiest in the building - who I'd gone to college with over 3 years ago. I remembered that she had been just as sweet as she was pretty. It was an observation I'd made from afar, since in my pre-mission days I was virtually unable to even speak to her. Now, though, things were different.

Much different.

Immediately, I stopped her and exclaimed, "Don't I know you?" She said maybe, and that I looked familiar. I asked if we'd gone to school together, and finished her sentence when she started to name our alma mater. She asked what my name was "again" (although she'd never actually known it), and I said it was good to see her. It was a brief conversation, but I found it remarkable to feel like my new, fun, relaxed, uninhibited self with someone from my shyness-laden past.

I returned to dancing. I saw that Rayna had made her way to the dance floor with her friends, and decided to go dance with her. I made the perpetual mistake of hesitating, and a minute later, another guy had beaten me to it.

My opponent was taller and bigger than me, but less stylish and athletic. Feeling the full power of my newly-developed confidence, I knew that he had no chance with Rayna as long as I was around. I ignored the two, going back to some solo dance moves I'd learned in a class.

An hour later or so, I decided to look for Rayna again, hoping that she'd separated from my opponent. I was headed downstairs to watch the basketball game, and was determined to get Rayna's phone number. Fueled by confidence, I had resolved to do so even if my opponent were still with her. After all, I had met her first.

The scene would be less dramatic, as I found Rayna waiting for a drink alone at the bar. Without further thought, I handled the situation in the manner I'd thought days earlier. It had seemed brilliant, and it was time to put it to the test.

"Hey, give me your number in case I don't see you again."

She asked if I was leaving, and I explained that I was going downstairs to watch the basketball game. Then, I took out my phone, added her name, and handed it to her to enter her phone number.

Just that easily, I had finally completed my first pickup (that is, the first with me as the initiator) at 25 1/2 years old.
________________

After getting Rayna's phone number, there was no stopping me. I realized that I was experiencing the same principle as with so many other aspects of the mission. After managing to accomplish something seemingly impossible just once, it immediately seemed easy thereafter. I merely had to break the seal, proving that I could do it; dating had been a prime example. Going on a date seemed impossible before the first time, but after that, I was easily able to go on 53 more. Now, if only I could get 53 more phone numbers....

Another Friday night, Ryan invited me out with his friends. It was amazingly fun hanging out with him. He was even more uninhibited than I was (in fairness, he was drinking), stopping passing girls by taking their hand, and delivering lines like "You look real sexy tonight." Apparently his confidence worked well with the ladies, as many of them responded positively, complimenting both of us.

When Ryan had to leave with his friends, I finally took to the dance floor. This time, I was on a small bar dance floor with only a few people dancing at the end of the night. There was a cute blonde dancing, but I was initially reluctant to approach her - one of the few small signs of inhibition remaining to be destroyed.

When the DJ announced that the next song would be the last of the night, I just went for it. She was enthusiastic, and I realized that she'd probably been waiting for me to make a move since she saw me. When the music stopped, I threw up my hands and said, "It's only like 2:30!" I asked if she came to the area a lot, which seemed less cliche when I added that it was my first time. We talked for a couple minutes, and the conversation was light and fun, with me saying that her not having a car was good for the environment, and her telling me about having gone green. She then introduced her friend to me, and asked my name. With that obvious sign of interest, I wasted no time.

"Hey, give me your number in case I don't see you again."

It was a simple, confident, beautiful line that would be appropriate in almost any situation.

"Oh yeah, I'd probably never see you again otherwise since you live so far away."

I'd already started typing her name, Maureen, into my phone. She said I was a good speller, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing about the mutual experience of having failed on the first word in the spelling bee in elementary school. She had her arms on my shoulders, saying her heels were making her feet hurt - that also turned into friendly banter. It was the most fun I'd ever had talking to someone on a dance floor.

The next night, I delivered my line to a girl at a nightclub after little more than some fun bumping and grinding. Again, I added another girl's number to my phone.

The seal had been broken, and it was now easy. The next week, I decided to try to build on my progress even further. Ryan's friendliness and success with talking to so many people while we were out inspired me to return to my Talk To People Everywhere resolution for the New Year. I simply said anything and everything that came to mind at the next club. It was the simple, yet critical principle I'd learned in dating conversation: you have to share your thoughts with others. I found myself stopping a guy to tell him that he looked like my favorite basketball player; he shook my hand, and gave me a chest bump, saying he wished he could make money like that guy. I spotted a girl checking me out, and told her that she had a nice-looking group of friends - again, they looked intelligent, and like they'd be my group of friends, if I had one (they turned out to be doctors). I spoke to more people than I could possibly hope to remember, even telling the club photographer, "You're the most beautiful photographer I've ever seen!" Some people were friendly and others were not, but most importantly, it was a great exercise that helped me whittle away at some of the last remaining bits of inhibition.
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Ironically, my endless enjoyment of nightclubs has been one of the main reasons for the lull in this blog; to quantify, clubbing has taken up about 10 hours per week (a part-time job!). My weekend nights have been providing me with more stories than I could possibly hope to write about, but one more worth mentioning is that of Kelly.

As a change from SuperBar, I decided to try one of the city's super clubs one Saturday night. I arrived early, taking a spot near the wall on the dance floor before anyone else started dancing. I soon found myself moving more and more to the music, until I was but the lone dancer with about a dozen onlookers standing around. I was comfortable in the situation, knowing that I was more uninhibited than the others. After all, it was a dance floor, not a stand around sipping a drink floor.

Eventually, I took a walk around while waiting for things to pick up. When I returned, I found two girls dancing with only one guy. Without hesitation, I approached the lone girl and danced with her. She and her friend had stood nearby earlier when I was dancing alone, so they'd already had a chance to decide if they were interested.

And interested, she was. When I started my new water-testing routine of seeing how she responded when I asked her name, she asked mine. She then asked where I was from, and what I did for a living. We talked while we danced, managing to have a normal conversation over the music as I learned that she was a 21-year-old English major, that her best friend attends my alma mater, and the like. With her obvious interest in more than just dancing with me, I was as confident as ever. When her friend went to the bathroom to get away from her dance partner, I joked to Kelly, "They can't all be like me!" As we continued dancing, I escalated the physical contact, holding her hand while sensually kissing her back and neck from time to time.

After about an hour, Kelly said that she and her friend were going to take a break, and invited me to come with them. We went to the house music floor, where I easily entertained the pair with some of my fun, uninhibited dance moves. When I mentioned that I'd never tried alcohol, Kelly's friend marveled in disbelief. She went down the list, asking if I'd ever tried marijuana, or smoked a cigarette, or....had sex. I started to fib to save face on the last question, but remembered that honesty is one of the pillars of successful conversation and relationships. I humorously told her that I couldn't say, because a gentleman never kisses and tells.

When Kelly went to the restroom, I was alone with the friend, who was remarkably beautiful. I found out that her name was Molly, and that she'd gotten pregnant at 17 by her high school sweetheart, and so attended college online. As we talked more, I was struck by how down-to-earth she was in spite of such rare, flawless beauty. When Kelly returned, I teased Molly about liking the electronic music, and we returned to the hip-hop dance floor.

I was having a great time with my new friends. Molly had decided not to dance with anymore guys, so we constantly shifted positions as one guy after another comically tried to dance with her. Meanhwile, I held Kelly in my arms throughout the night. As we pressed our faces together, with me kissing her cheek from the side, Molly couldn't hold back a smile at the sight of the apparently-cute couple we made.

About 15 minutes before closing, we decided to leave. Kelly's friend had lost her cell phone (an event that had provided some good fodder for my jokes), so I put Molly's number in my phone. Kelly sent me a text to make sure the numbers were in correctly, and even got my full name just in case. They waited for me to get my coat, and finally, we could talk without yelling over the music once we were outside.

I walked Kelly and Molly to their car, and they insisted on driving me to mine over in the next parking. After four hours, it had been the most time I'd ever spent with someone at a club. As I began to finally end our conversation and get out of the car, Kelly said happily, "I had a really good time."
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The end draws nearer.

Finding the Pieces

2009-03-14T13:22:00.000-07:00

Though nearly a month has passed since I last wrote, my absence has not been due to lack of activity; there has been more going on than ever. As the mission nears its second anniversary, the social life for which I've yearned is gradually coming to fruition. I typically use the blog to share new experiences and remarkable events, but I'm now finding that the experiences and events that were once so are now simply becoming normal. Meanwhile, the puzzle of my new life has been taking form.

Since my last few posts, I've removed several pieces that proved not to fit. Before the last two dates I shared, there was indeed a fifty-third date with another girl from eHarmony named Brandy. When she didn't show up at Starbucks, I sent her a text. She claimed that she didn't know if we were still meeting, since she hadn't heard from me that day. It was an absurd claim, since she had said "See you then" twice over e-mail less than 2 days ago. She had no good excuse, and I wasn't going to stand for it.

With amazing stubbornness, Brandy argued with me via text messages for nearly an hour instead of being apologetic. I was surprised that she would flake out on me since we had already talked on the phone, and learned that we had an amazing amount in common - all the way down to being software engineers. Combined with the fact that I already had two other promising dates coming up, I was now far too displeased with her attitude to have any real interest. Nonetheless, she still wanted to meet. I decided to give it a try mostly for practice, and partly because it would be interesting.

We met later that night. I intentionally projected my voice when I first spoke to her, and my second sentence was a joke alluding to her being a pain in the ass earlier in the day. I had absolute confidence once again, but this time, my slight dislike for my date provided an edge that made me feel and act as confident as anyone possibly could. I'd decided to practice entertaining my date, which was a skill with which I'd remarkably become adept. As I talked and joked, my personality emerged as the clearly dominant one in the room. I had the powerful feeling of sensing that merely being myself made her feel at least a little self-conscious, as her social skills were far less impressive.

The Starbucks closed after only half an hour, and she declined my half-kidding invitation to continue our date at the Burger King across the parking lot. She said that I should call to confirm next time, which reminded me that she still hadn't apologized in person for standing me up earlier. I decided that she would not fit as a piece of my new life.
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And then there are the subjects of my last two posts. Elisa, for whom I felt overwhelming feelings, was not responsive after saying that she'd had a great time in an e-mail the next afternoon. I'd replied and invited her to a dinner show the following Sunday, but she took until that morning to respond. She said she'd probably be working, but that she hoped we could get together soon. When I called a week later, she neither answered nor called me back. Finally, I sent her a text suggesting that we have dinner before she left for vacation. She asked what day would be good, then never responded after that.

This time, I wasn't quite heartbroken. It was absolutely astonishing that she'd lost interest - without even talking to me - after the wonderful first date we'd had. She'd seemed more interested than any of the other 42 girls I'd dated, but after The Autumn Saga, nothing could surprise me.

And finally, there was Bridgette. Things had seemed to go well with her on our second date, and I had become quite interested, even though she didn't seem as special as Elisa. She e-mailed me the next day, telling me to send her a link to something that we'd talked about when we were together. I had been relieved to see the e-mail - which I took to be continued interest - since I'd been thinking about a possible slight imperfection at the end of our date. I texted her a few days later, asking if she wanted to "go for the trifecta this weekend."

Five days later, she responded.

"Sorry been crazy busy at work tryn 2 catch up. Not a big fan of horse racing though."

My text obviously had nothing to do with horses, but I just replied:

"Wow. Five days to respond to a text though?"

I got in the shower to get my mind off of things, and missed her call. She left a message asking me to give her a call the next day, but I called minutes later and didn't reach her. After a bit of phone tag, we got in touch after a week. I was hoping she'd been calling to apologize, but in reality I knew that she wouldn't have ignored a text for five days if she'd been interested. She said she'd had a really good time on our date, but that she didn't feel "any connection." The pain stung as she spoke, and I quickly ended the call - hanging on by a thread to the confident tone of my voice - with only seven words: "Alright! Well good luck. Take care. Bye-bye."

Bridgette, Brandy and Elisa were the last three girls I'd been connected to through eHarmony. After these final failures, I became even more determined to stick to my New Year's resolution of abandoning online dating. After meeting 42 women that way, with none making it past even a mere third date, it was clearly not a piece to the puzzle.

An era had drawn to a close.
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It was interesting that Bridgette had called to end our short-lived relationship. After all, only one other girl - my very first date - had ever done that, while I could never bring myself to ignore someone after a date even if I wanted to.

Bina texted and called me a couple times after my last post about her, which spurred comments that made me realize I shouldn't go any further in the relationship. I hoped to end it in a way that would allow us to still be friends, and so I sent her a well-planned text:

"Hey. I've been thinking... I really like you a lot, but long-term my age might be an issue. Maybe it'd be better if we're friends?"

She said that was fine, and that she was going to ask if I wanted to be friends because she didn't think I liked her. She also asked how old I thought she was. I told her that she looked amazing, but judging from her career, I was guessing she was about 35.

She said she was 36.

I continued with some flattery about thinking that she was around my age until we started talking, and finally, she said that she really would like to be friends if I was being truthful about that, because she enjoyed my company. I told her definitely, and added her on Feycebook.

After occasional texting, I asked if she wanted to grab some dinner last Wednesday. Almost needless to say at this point, I was my relaxed, uninhibited, great self. Whenever I made even the slightest joke, she seemed to think I was hilarious. After we finished eating, paid, and the plates were gone, she asked if I wanted to stay a while longer: she was having a great time just talking to me. I marveled at the fact that I could entertain someone so easily by mostly just asking questions and listening with genuine interest.

Bina invited me to a dinner show with her friends over the weekend. I'd already had tentative plans for my one pre-mission friend's birthday that night, so I declined. Still, though, I realized what was happening. When I first saw Bina at SuperBar - just like I've seen hundreds of others - I knew that her group of friends would fit me perfectly. I didn't know how I would make it happen, but I was determined that they would become my group of friends. At the time, it seemed unrealistic, but is now nothing short of a sure bet.

Bina is a piece to the puzzle.
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As with every other friendship, that which I've established with Bina means more to me than she'll probably ever know. I set out with but a single real friend in the world, but as a testament to the value of persistence, I now have five.

One of those five friends is Natalie, who so quickly became a normal part of my life that I haven't been compelled to write about her since we first met. We hung out again the very next day, and at least once a week afterwards. By the third time we got together, I understood what it meant to "click" with someone. We had lots of things in common - from going to the same university at the same time, to acting, and so on - but more importantly, there was something about our interaction. I was as relaxed with her as I am alone, or with anyone else, and the same was obviously true for her. We talked with ease, often about nothing in particular, with smiles and laughter ever-present. In just a few short weeks, we'd already taken a class together, gone nightclub dancing, had dinner, seen movies, and more. She was already close enough with me to share the reason that she had stopped coming to our dance class: the only other guy in the class was coincidentally another graduate of our alma mater, with whom she'd first had sex and a badly-ended relationship years ago.

Once while picking Natalie up to go play shuffleboard, one of her other male friends was leaving the house. When he hugged her goodbye and walked away, I immediately followed my impulse to ask, "He's not coming??" She asked if he wanted to play with us, and he was happy to come along. While the three of us played shuffleboard and hung out to chat over drinks, I realized that it was only one of a handful of times that I had socialized in a group. That situation always seemed to be the most difficult, but I was now comfortable, and it was easy.

Natalie is big piece to the puzzle, but I have yet to tell you about the biggest, which in the past week has brought the most amazing milestones to date.....

The Antidote

2009-02-16T17:59:00.000-08:00

When I started considering a departure from eHarmony, I thought I would finally take a break from dating altogether. Still, though, I had already gotten involved with a few ladies, and was certainly going to see things through with them. As luck would have it, I formed an amazing connection with Elissa, the very last girl I met online. I found myself hopelessly afflicted by the Love Bug, with little else on my mind for the next couple days. I asked her to a Sunday show via e-mail, but saw no response by the next night. Instead of waiting, I realized that the best thing I could possibly do for myself was to spend time with someone else instead.

There was Bridgette, the only other girl with whom there was still mutual interest. She had confused me on our first date, leaving me with the impression that she was uninterested. On a whim, I sent her a link to a video I'd mentioned at Starbucks, and she again suggested that we meet up. When that date was cancelled due to snow, I asked if she was free a week later, but then she was sick. That weekend, we had a beautiful glimpse of spring with sunshine and 70-degree temperatures, and it made me think of her. I sent her a text:

"It's a beautiful day outside - made me think of you."

I'd long been in the habit of avoiding flattery and largely concealing my romantic feelings, but I decided that after 53 dates, it was time to try something new.

I called her Sunday to confirm the pickup time. At first, I succeeded in the initial projection of both my voice and uninhibited persona, but a moment later I was interrupted; someone was at the door. The idea of having a family member overhear my conversation immediately made me feel self-conscious, and I was stiff when I returned to the phone.

As I got dressed, I thought. I had just been amazingly great with the last two girls I'd gone out with. In fact, I hadn't had an unsuccessful date since last year! More still, for some reason, Bridgette must have liked me, even when I was relatively stiff with her. Just think how much she'd like me after seeing the real me! This time, I would make it a point to minimize the talk about work, and about anything else boring. We were going to Dave & Buster's, so I figured the environment would make it easy.
_______________________

She got in the car, and we were back together for the first time in nearly a month. I felt stiff during the first couple minutes of conversation, but then started to improve. Before long, I was back where I'd left off with her, largely taking on my uninhibited persona in spite of a general feeling of tension.

By the time we reached the mall, I was feeling pretty good, while continuing to improve. Now, jokes were coming to mind, and I executed them with little or no forethought. When Bridgette mentioned doing something when she was little, I said, "Well, you're still little!" When we wanted to play ski ball, a group of kids were taking up all of the lanes. I told my date that they were pretty small, so we could probably rough them. I started making whatever jokes came to mind, regardless of what they were. She said I was lucky on one of the games, so I told her, "I'd rather be lucky than good!" merely because it was a quote I'd heard somewhere. Luckily, she seemed to think it was funny. Some of the things I said ended up being pretty silly, but I later realized that you can't be too funny if you hold back; you have to be willing to sound silly every now and then.

After playing a few games and walking around for about 15 minutes, we decided to check on our dinner table. Now, I was so loose that I naturally joked around with the hostess.

"There's one party in front of you."
"One party.... what's that, a 30 second wait? 45 seconds?"

Somehow, that 45-second wait ended up being close to half an hour. I stood with Bridgette, with no menu, games, or food to help entertain her. All I had was me.

All I had was me, and me was all I needed. I'd realized after the last couple dates that I had actually become a good conversationalist since the inception of my mission. After all: how could this much practice not have paid off? I asked whatever came to mind, starting with the obvious question of what kind of food she was in the mood for. We ended up spending some time talking about work, but I was skilled enough to make it a fun topic. When Bridgette mentioned the CEO of her company, I asked if she'd ever met him. She told me that she'd shook his hand once, and I inferred that it was important to her. I then jokingly asked if she'd gotten an autograph, and told her that she should have taken a photo with her cellphone and made it her Feycebook profile photo. At the same time, I jokingly made fun of people who take cell phone pictures of themselves by mimicking the gestures. Now, Bridgette was seeing the real, fun, uninhibited me, which was a vast improvement from our first date.

As we ate, I realized that things were going great. I was sitting across from a beautiful girl, doing a stellar job of entertaining her.

Only time stood between her lips and mine.

I became anxious as I felt a little pressure to maintain the quality of the date until the end of the evening. Still, though, my mind continued to easily think of what to say, and my anxiety was surely invisible to Bridgette.

After our first date, I couldn't quite figure out what Bridgette and I liked about each other. We really hadn't even found a whole lot that we had in common. Now, though, we were starting to find that common ground. We were both semi-vegetarians, weren't particularly happy with our SUV's, and listened to the same morning talk show host, who we both thought was obnoxious.

Bridgette hadn't asked many questions at Starbucks, so tonight I would be sure to talk about myself so that she would learn some of the many interesting things about me. I skillfully related my experiences to things she said. For example, I asked about her kickboxing class, and then told her that I'd tried a lot of new things myself - like acting - since finishing school. She was interested, and asked more questions about it. I was able to visualize and tell her the story of my final class performance with relative ease. Telling stories seemed like an impossible task when I started the mission, so I felt proud myself afterwards.

Instead of using preprepared conversation topics, I was mostly able to think of things to say based on the current conversation and the environment. When we heard a group singing Happy Birthday, I naturally thought to ask when her birthday was, followed by whether or not she believed in astrology. She seemed to be having a good time, but would now confirm it. When we talked about astrological signs, she said she was curious what kind of profile I would have as a Virgo. She was so interested that she wanted to Google it right then on her phone, so I told her to go for it.

When she read off one of the Virgo characteristics as being "shy," I ridiculed the web site. ME? SHY?! It was outrageous!

I told her the rest of the characteristics were spot-on, and they were.

As I continued to ask interesting questions and make jokes, I observed Bridgette. After Starbucks, I thought there was absolutely no chance that I would ever see her again. There was just something so curious about a girl who was interested, yet had given no indication on the first date. Why hadn't she?

I noticed she had a quiet laugh; it was different, and adorable.

I noticed a couple times when there was a momentary lull in the conversation, she looked at me with an expression I'd seen while eating with Bina. In that case, I'd correctly interpreted it as concern about whether or not I liked her.

I noticed that Bridgette seemed self-conscious about using a kleenex and sounding congested, as she was still getting over her cold. I could tell that she once tried to conceal a cough, which was something I'd always done, fearing it would turn off a date.

I noticed that Bridgette remembered things from our first date that even I, who wrote a blog post about the shindig, didn't.

I noticed that I was the one making most of the jokes, and she was the one doing most of the laughing.

Above all, I noticed that I was the more uninhibited one. In the game room, she said that I could get on the dancing game, and she would watch. I wouldn't have even had to give a dancing game, or any other, a second thought, but there was absolutely no way she would play it in public; I teased her about it several times during the night.

When I made little comments to the waittress named Roseanne, I noticed that my interaction with our server made me seem more sociable than my date. Later, when she deducted my meal from the bill since I didn't eat much of it, my voice excuded confidence as we had a longer exchange:

"Roseanne......you are the best waitress I've---"

She asked me to fill out a survey.

"Oh! So it's a bribe!"

She said that I would be entered for a chance to win $10,000 if I filled it out.

"Ok, I'm gonna do it. Not only that though! Roseanne, if I win, I'm going to come back here, and give you $2,500."

I realized that I couldn't even imagine Bridgette joking around with the waitress, let alone being as fun as I was.

Now, I could at least postulate a theory as to what was going on. Perhaps it was that I was great. Perhaps, that is, I was so great that meeting me at Starbucks made Bridgette a little too nervous to ask a lot of questions that day. Maybe she didn't tell me she had a good time until she responded to my e-mail days later because she thought it was obvious that she had a good time with me, because I was so great. Maybe she was the one wondering whether I was interested, because, well, I was so great.

Then again, probably not.

She'd been telling me about preparing for a presentation at work the next day, so I said I'd better get her home to practice. As I drove us back to her apartment, she mentioned her beloved old green jacket, and I joked about it with ease, calling it "her" and asking if it had a name. I heard her quiet laugh, and glanced over to again see that beautiful smile. It was the genuine kind that you couldn't hide if you wanted to.

She'd had a good time.

I pulled into a handicap space and told her I'd walk her up. I'm usually obsessive about avoiding the common cold, but there was no way I was going to leave without kissing her goodnight.

We continued talking for a few moments after reaching the building door. She smiled, and I realized she didn't expect me to walk into the building with her. I said, "Alright," and gave her a hug.

After the hug, there was a brief, silent moment. I put my hand on her waist, leaning in towards her. She stood motionless for another moment, until I saw her move and closed my eyes. She gave me a short kiss that felt amazing, unlike anything I'd ever felt. In that instant, all of my anxiety vanished; my worries evaporated.

I then felt that Bridgette was as happy as I was, as she asked if I knew how to get home, and told me to have a safe drive. I told her to knock 'em dead in her presentation, and caught one more glimpse of her beautiful smile before I turned away.

The Love Bug

2009-02-11T16:05:00.000-08:00

After meeting thirty or so women through eHarmony, I decided to call it quits. For starters, I'd never liked the idea of competing against other guys on the site, who would be presented as matches to any girl I met there. Second, I never saw much in the way of results. After putting in so much time, money, and energy, I hadn't gotten much out. Besides, it was time to move on and demonstrate that I'd progressed enough to get dates out in the real world. Perhaps there I would meet my first girlfriend, and not have to to worry about her being curious enough to meet up with other guys who were purportedly matched with her on 29 dimensions of compatibility.

After 17 months, I cancelled my subscription. I still had a few days left, though, so I continued the guided communication process that I'd begun with a girl named Elissa, who always responded extremely quickly. That seemed lucky, since otherwise my subscription might have run out before we were allowed to send open-ended messages. When I told her to e-mail me because I'd be leaving the site in a few days, she said that was funny, because she was doing the same.

From her very first message, I could tell that she was an unbelievably sweet girl. Her e-mails were replete with exclamation marks and smileys. Whenever it'd been a few days since I'd written, she said, "Good to hear from you!" After a couple weeks, I suggested we meet up at a billiards hall in the city.

I knew that she would be the last girl I'd ever meet in the world of online dating.
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I walked over and asked, "What's up?" as we hugged.

We took a table near the entrance and started talking.

"You look nice!"

I'd been on over 50 dates, and it was the first time anyone had complimented my appearance. I told her that she looked nice, too - and did she. Elissa is a contender for the Miss America title, and it couldn't have been more obvious why. In spite of that, she radiated the same sweetness that she showed online, and couldn't have been any more down-to-earth.

I had felt a little anxious in the minutes leading up to our meeting, but now that we had met and begun talking, I was at ease. I had practically nothing prepared in the way of conversation topics, but had so much confidence in my conversation skills that I was sure I wouldn't need any. I asked an obvious question or two that came to mind, and Elissa was just as talkative as she had been over e-mail.

The conversation moved easily from one topic to another, without even a hint of awkwardness. I was at such ease that I had no difficulty discussing her favorite things, even though I knew much less about them; the topic just didn't matter. I've never followed baseball closely, but we had a long discussion about it, with me making plenty of jokes and humorous comments. When I learned that she had a remarkable fondness for Abraham Lincoln, I had even more questions and jokes, even though I only knew a handful of facts about him. When she told me she'd read about 150 books about the 16th President, I leaned back, smiled, wagged my finger, and said something like, "You, my dear, are a scholar!" My relaxed, uninhibited nature was on full display. I asked if she was offended by people throwing away pennies - since they bare Abe Lincoln's image - and she was taken aback. She said I'd been making her think about things she should have thought of before.

Whenever Elissa mentioned something that we had in common, I said "me too," or something to that effect. Over the course of a long conversation, we learned that we had the same view on topics like abortion, the previous President, and Iraq. Her openness in mentioning political stances gave us a chance to find common ground we wouldn't have had any idea about if we had treated the topics as taboo. I told her that she was the first person I'd ever met who agreed with me about Iraq, and gave her a high-five. She mostly missed my hand, and asked to try it again; the second time was a success.

No one in the world could be more open than Elissa was with me. We'd met only within the past hour or two, yet she voluntarily divulged one personal fact after another. She told me four or five things about her life that are so personal I won't repeat them here, even though the blog is anonymous. After hearing the stories, I understood how she could be so down-to-earth and sweet, instead of having developed a huge ego during her days as a beauty pageant contestant.

Eventually, we were discussing dreams (a topic that she brought up naturally, even though it's on my old list of conversation topics), and she mentioned that she has insomnia and needed to take a sleeping pill by 11. I checked the time and told her that it was 10:15. She smiled and said, "Plenty of time!"

It had been obvious that we were both enjoying ourselves, but that comment confirmed it. Soon, her roommate, who had been at a restaurant next door, came over to our table, hugged Elissa, and apologized. She'd forgotten her keys.

I stood up, shook her hand, and introduced myself. When she apologized again for interrupting, I said, "We were just talking about how fabulous you are!"

The next time Elissa mentioned the time, she made sure I didn't think the sleeping pill was an excuse for leaving.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be... I had a really good time. I mean, I had a really good time."

I smiled and nodded as she spoke.

"You're nodding..."
"Yeah! Me too."

She smiled.

I said that I hadn't had a chance to beat her in Shuffleboard, and she suggested we do it next time.

When we reached her house, she thanked me, and reiterated that she'd had a great time.

I had never had a date anywhere near as intimate as with Elissa. We had found common beliefs in politics, and a common interest in writing about our lives. I bought her a pair of flowers, and she'd shared her iPod earbuds with me, and had even invited me to a political conference that her dad would also be attending. She'd already shared the most intimate details of her life with me, and had even fought off tears in front of me when telling me how her first dog had died in an accident last year.

I insisted on walking her to her door. It was a good thing I did, because her roommate hadn't yet returned home with the keys. She called her roommate Tracy - who had apparently missed the last bus - and I insisted that I didn't mind going to pick her up. Elissa apologized, saying that she felt bad and that I'd been so sweet all night.

I said it was no problem, and that it'd give me a chance to hear about her tattoos. Tracy was nearby, and the three of us were soon headed back to the house.

When I mentioned that we wouldn't be back by 11 for Elissa to take her pills, Tracy was in disbelief that her roommate had told me about her insomnia on the first date. Only half-kidding, she told Elissa that she should at least wait until the fourth date for that. It was nothing compared to the other things I'd learned about my date, but I simply joked that there were worse things.

After only a few minutes, we were back at the house. Elissa said that I didn't need to walk her up again, but I said, "Ah, let's go for broke!" and walked her up anyway. She again said that she'd had a really great time. Tracy mentioned something about the landlord moving a refrigerator, and Elissa explained the comment to me. I remarked to myself that I'd just met both of these people. It was absolutely amazing to think that I had just barely met her on eHarmony, and how much of a difference it made for her to have entered my life.

I stopped a few feet short of the door, and said, "Alright, Elissa."

She turned around, walked back towards me, and held out her arms wide. She grabbed me, giving me a great, big hug, and saying she'd talk to me soon.
________________

On the way home, I felt unusually sober. I knew logically that the night had been amazing. I knew that I had never met a sweeter person in 25 years of life, and I knew that I'd never been on a date like this one. Still, though, I told myself that I would keep myself together. I felt sober, and planned not to let feelings overwhelm me as they have too many times before.

Once I got home, an image of the date popped into my mind. Then another. Then a thought about Elissa, and another image. Now, I started to feel something. It was like the first minutes that you start to feel a tickle in your throat, and know that a cold is coming on. I knew that I'd caught the love bug, and started to feel everything that I'd thought on the way home. I felt that Elissa was the most amazing girl I'd ever met, and I felt that there couldn't be anyone else quite like her in this entire world.

As man learned millennia ago, the problem with this love bug is that its incredible power can, if not managed, do harm.

My next symptom was uncertainty. I started to dwell on possible imperfections in the date, contemplating what I should have said when she kept telling me how great of a time she was having. I then started anxiously trying to figure out when the best time would be to call her and ask her out again. What would be the best date? Would it be better to text her? Is two days long enough to wait? Would five be too long?!

After being distracted by the love bug for several hours at work, I checked my e-mail. Before the uncertainty kicked in, I'd been positive that she would e-mail me from work the next day; I already knew her well enough to be certain of that.

I just wanted to shoot you a quick note to thank you again for last night! I had a really great time! The flowers are nestled right under the Babe and he loved them! Hope you're having a great day!~ Elisa

It took me a solid hour to figure out the best three sentences with which to reply. I finally decided on just being myself and wrote, "I'm glad you had a really great time, because I did too :) " I'd never confessed my feelings about a date so strongly, and hoped that being open with her wouldn't hurt. I also invited her to a show on Sunday, and immediately started questioning whether the next day was too soon to suggest another date.

The love bug has struck again, but I'm going to do my best to manage the symptoms. This time, I'll follow Ashlley's advice from the beginning, and keep my options open by continuing to date and pursue other people.

It's my only hope.

The Middle of the End

2009-01-26T15:02:00.000-08:00

I first went to SuperBar on a warm Saturday night in early September. My experience that night was a spectacular one, constituting the biggest step I've taken towards obliterating shyness from my life. As it turns out, that night was no isolated incident. In the last 4 months, I've returned to the nightclub on more weekends than not, and have enjoyed many of the best nights of my life.

At the front of the long lines outside SuperBar was a super-friendly doorman. I eventually learned that his name was Danny, and so started greeting him by name every time I saw him. When I returned from Miami, I decided to attempt a little smalltalk, and mentioned that a nightclub there stayed open until 10am (actually, later!). He then stopped processing other patrons so that he could tell me a story about his honeymoon trip to Miami and several islands. And that, my friends, was it: I haven't waited in line since. When I walk up, Danny sees me, asks how many people are with me, and motions for me to come around the line for him to let me in. He shakes my hand or hugs me, and I go right in.

Danny's act of gracious kindness in letting me skip the line was priceless. The normal waiting time is up to an hour, which would be less than fun this time of year, what with all the freezing temperatures. At Christmas time, I decided to show my appreciation by bringing him a $50 gift card to the Cheesecake Factory restaurant.

Last week, I returned after a three-week hiatus following the holidays. Danny called me out of line as usual.

He pursed his lips tightly, shook his head, and said - almost as if he were choking up in gratitude - "What you did, man..."

"Hey. As long as I'm working at a club, I've got you. If you ever decide to switch clubs, let me know where you're going and I'll call over there and make sure I have someone to take care of you."

He then went on to continue thanking me, exclaiming that he'd taken both of his kids out to the restaurant. On the way in, he pointed me out to the other bouncers and doormen, telling them that I was the guy he'd told them about who had given him the Cheesecake Factory gift card.

For me, it was nothing. I would have gotten him a $100 gift card, if there had been one. If I'd had the money, I would have bought him a car. A luxury one.

As I walked in, he continued to praise me, saying that I was "good people" and that I never ask for any favors, either.
________________

Once inside, I was off to a slow start. Oddly enough, I hadn't gotten any real action at SuperBar the last 2 or 3 times I'd been. I had somewhat reverted back to being a bit too inhibited for all of the daring and winning that makes the clubbing experience so fun.

The dance floor was relatively dead, but I eventually started to just dance and have a good time. A girl I'd been checking out nearby eventually started dancing with me. In this case, it wasn't boy-girl dancing, but rather, wild, crazy dancing that would make many people think we were a bit tipsy. I've in fact never had a drink, and my dancing was more coordinated and better looking than hers. I had been focused on my partner for about 15 minutes without looking around to see what else was happening. I then noticed something interesting: the dance floor was no longer dead. It was now vibrant, with lots of couples and groups dancing and having a great time instead of standing around and talking. It was as if my partner and I had brought life to the place.

Since my first amazing night at SuperBar, I've been able to do such free and uninhibited dancing that I can almost always say that I'm the most lively person in the building. In this dance partner, I had found my equal. We were constantly dancing, so I didn't attempt a conversation, but she smiled, laughed, and gave me high-fives during the show we were putting on.

After about an hour and a half, she finally said she had to leave. We hadn't talked enough to learn anything else about each other, and so asking for a phone number would have felt awkward, at best. It was precisely the situation I'd encountered several times before, which triggered the idea of making Feycebook cards with my name, profile picture and network.
How great would it be to have a friend like this to go dancing with?

She held out her hand to shake mine, but I reached in my pocket for one of the cards. I said, "Here, take this." She looked at it, smiled, and gave me a final high-five.
________________

Between a 9-5 job, commuting, dating, blogging, and doing a few other things, it's hard for me to get enough sleep. As a result, I almost always feel very tired on Saturdays. Yesterday was no exception. I felt like curling up in bed, rather than braving 20-degree temperatures and driving to the city to go to SuperBar. Still, though, I remembered two things. First, I have always felt invigorated almost immediately after stepping foot in the place. It's an amazing fact that I could attribute to magic, but scientifically, there is probably an explanation involving endorphins and such. Second, I remembered that several of the best nights of my life started with me feeling like sleeping, but going to SuperBar anyway.

And so I went.

Danny called me out of line and greeted me as usual. He told one of the other bouncers to take care of me, and then pointed me out to another. He told him, "Get to know this face." The other bouncer asked my name, told me his, and shook my hand. On the way in, Danny pointed me out to the other staff once again. He wanted to make sure that I'd be taken care of anytime he wasn't there.

Inside, I was wearing my standard attire, consisting of dress slacks and an expensive designer shirt. I noticed a beautiful girl's eyes fixated on mine for a couple of seconds as she passed by. Without hesitation, I said "What's up?", and she said something inaudible as she smiled, caught off-guard by my response. She must have then pointed me out to her friend, because I caught the friend's glance a few seconds later. I immediately understood that I had a mojo, and knew it was going to be a great night.

Still, though, I was off to a bad start. I started anxiously dwelling on the quality of my interaction with all of the staff. I felt so anxious that phrases I've hardly ever uttered in this blog, like social anxiety disorder, started popping into my mind. I wanted to dance with some women once the dance floor got crowded, but my anxiety remained, and inhibition followed suit. It was unusual for me.

I couldn't seem to find a dance partner; not because one wasn't available, really, but because I was too inhibited to make a move if the situation seemed anything less than perfect.

Finally, I did something. I was dancing behind tall, dark-haired girl who was talking to a friend, and finally moved close enough to slowly dance with her. When I saw that she was aware of what I was doing and didn't move away, I made full contact with her, and we began the always-fun grind dance. Immediately, my anxiety evaporated, and did not return the rest of the evening.

She soon turned around to face me. I asked her name while continuing to dance, and learned that she was named Kira and had a foreign accent. She then asked my name: a good sign. I attempted some smalltalk, saying that I hadn't seen her there before, and that the music was usually better Saturday nights.

Somewhere, there might have been a mistake, because she did something no other girl had ever done. Another guy came up and touched her gently for a moment. After about a minute, she said to me, "I'm sorry."

For what?

She was going to dance with the other guy. It didn't bother me; in fact, it was laughable, and kind of interesting!

I went back to dancing alone, and decided that the little incident would not have occurred in vain. I would make something out of it. I decided that I would never again use the smalltalk about the music, nor the "Come here often?" type of opening. That may or may not have been the problem, but it was obvious that saying things that web sites (other than this one) tell guys to say was way too unoriginal. As I observed the newly-formed couple, I saw my antagonist put his arms around Kira after she turned to face him. She reacted positively, and I finally understood that when a girl I've been dancing with turns around, it isn't because she doesn't want to dance sensually anymore; it's because she wants to switch positions. It was an observation that would soon lead to a potentially epic change of events. Besides, Kira wasn't my type anyway, so the snub really just meant that I was free to find a girl who was.

I walked around to explore.
________________

In the basement, I nodded at a guy in his mid-30's who I had noticed earlier. He asked if I always came by myself. We chatted a bit, and I learned that he was named Leon and had been in the military for 18 years, and came to SuperBar alone often because his girlfriend lived in Atlanta. He then mentioned how friendly Danny is, and asked how I knew him. He offered to buy me a drink, but I wasn't yet thirsty.

As I moved on to explore the rest of the club, I realized what had just happened. Leon had noticed my status at the club outside, and so was interested in befriending me. Who wouldn't want to be friends with someone who could avoid hour-long waits in freezing weather?

Upstairs, I noticed a girl in a group of three checking me out. A momentary fixation of the eyes: the universal signal of female attraction. I passed by and went to the bathroom to wipe off some sweat before returning.

I danced on the outside for a moment, then, with very little thought, took a place in the circle with the three girls.

"What's up, ladies?"

It was one of the rare times that I'd spoken to people before dancing with them.

I didn't see the reaction from the girl I'd caught checking me out, but the one on my left said seductively and excitedly, "Heeeeeyyy!"

I said hey, and continued dancing for a few moments. She moved toward me and started to turn away from me, and I knew she wanted me.

She was gorgeous. Medium height, soft features, creamy skin tone. Tight jeans, slim, sexy body.

We started doing a smooth, sexy grind dance, and must have looked awesome together. And boy, was she good at it! We pressed our faces together gently as we got more into it. It was an amazing warm feeling, somehow unlike any sensation I'd ever experienced. She broke out a move I recognized from the instructional video on the grind, running her left arm quickly down my head and neck. I rewarded the effort with a couple of soft kisses on her back and neck. I had some moves of my own, and used them. I took her hand, nearly in awe of how wonderfully soft and warm it felt. She seemed to enjoy holding my hands just the same, taking my free one. I raised both her hands above her head, played with other movements, and...

I talked to her.

"You smell good.........What's your name?"
"Rachael."

Before the mission, I used to read articles about picking up girls, even though I had never tried it. Lots of the information there was questionable, but one claim that I would prove tonight would be that if you ask a woman's name, you shouldn't tell her yours unless she asks. She will ask if and only if she is interested.

".... and you are?"

I told her my name. Now, I would not repeat the mistake of asking the cliche "Come here often?"

"Did you party anywhere for New Year's?"

I had thought of it in advance.

"Nah. I was at home."
"Where's home?"
"New Jersey. I live in a small town, so there aren't any nightclubs or anything."

Having noticed the "X" on her hand indicating that she wasn't yet of drinking age, I immediately thought of a good question.

"Are you down here for school?"

She told me where she's studying, and asked me the same question. After delighting in a few more wordless minutes of surreal pleasure, I said, "....Are you a dance major?" She burst out laughing.

We kept dancing. When she turned around, I remembered my experience with Kira, and immediately decided to be more aggressive. I put my hands around her, and she initiated a frontal grind dance with me. I was able to align myself and move rhythmically with her to perfection, even though it was only my second time or so. We were indulgent, ignoring the rest of the room as we allowed intense attraction and arousal to blur the line between dance and simulated sex.

We weren't really having a conversation anymore, but my time with her was distinctly different than with all of the many other girls I've danced with. After even such a short conversation, it felt as if we were there together. When I had my hands around her thighs, I felt her phone vibrate, and told her to check it out. She responded to the text, and we went back to dancing. When she stopped to look at something going on with the club security, I asked if those were her friends involved. Underneath the blowing fan, she commented, and I asked if she was getting cold. There was just a different, relaxed feeling since the ice had been broken with a little bit of conversation.

Finally, her friends decided to leave. I asked, "gone?" and she said "Yeah, sorry," walking away with her friends. It had happened too fast for me to really react.

I stood for a few moments, and I thought. If I did nothing, I'd probably never see this girl again. And if I did do something, what did I have to lose?

Absolutely nothing.

I decided to find her. I was going to search the club like a man on a mission.

After plowing through the crowds of people on the dance floors, I reached the brightly lit coat check area in the basement. I walked by her at first, going to the bathroom to again wipe off the sweat. When I came back, I pulled out one of my Feycebook cards.

She was standing in line with her friends, looking in her purse for her coat check ticket.

"Rache!"

She looked up.

I handed her the card and said, "Look me up."

I then immediately turned away and walked a little more quickly than usual toward the door. My coup would likely have been more effective with a confident wink, but I wasn't used to giving out the cards, and felt a little embarrassed.

Still, though, I was proud of myself for not having given up like most people would have.

I returned to the main dance floor, happier than I had been all night. The feeling radiated through my dance. I started dancing close to a cute Asian girl - this one at least 21 - who was in a group with her friends. She reciprocated, but very lightly, frequently turning to avoid getting into the hot-and-heavy dancing most of the girls so shamelessly do with me.

I inferred that she liked me, but was just a little reserved. Again, I decided to actually talk to her. I learned her name - she asked mine in return - and that she was a senior at a university in the city.

For context, I should point out that I look really good when I go to SuperBar. There isn't anyone much more stylish, and few are as bold as to wear dark sunglasses in a dark nightclub. I figure that no one will guess that I'm pretty much a nerd with a great job, and so smart girls like this have no way of knowing that I could be a great match for them. Now, after I asked what she did, she asked me the same question.

"I'm a software engineer."

She said "wow," apparently impressed by the combination of my outgoingness and intelligence. I said what came to mind, which was that her purse was pretty - and it was. She asked if she could see my eyes, so I removed my shades and joked that she should get a good look at them. Eventually, she had to go somewhere with her friends, and said maybe she'd see me later. I wasn't about to leave it to chance, so I said, "Here, take this, in case I don't see you." I handed out my second Feycebook card of the night.

I moved on, dancing with some other girls. They acted innocent instead of doing the hot-and-heavy dance with me, but I realized something interesting: no one was running away tonight. It was as if everyone in the building liked me.

It was getting late, but I spotted one more girl I wanted to dance with. She didn't seem approachable at all - not to fault her, because it was mostly because she was so attractive. By now, though, my inner voice of shyness had been silenced. I moved in, and she complied.

Now, I had this thing down pat. 5 minutes of great dancing, then I asked her name, and she asked mine in return, making it a perfect 4/4 for the night. I didn't feel like I had a great question to fit both the girl and the situation, so I did the rest of the talking with my body.

The combination of my practiced dance moves and uninhibited, free spirit had become a great asset. When she turned and faced me, I put on a show. With each great move, she smiled and laughed. When I did an impromptu slide, I was surprised myself by how good it looked, and I could tell she was impressed as she laughed.

Again, I had achieved a mixture of rapport and physical attraction with my partner. This time, I put my hands around her when she was facing me, with her doing the same in response. I was in awe of her amazing it felt to just touch her, both physically and mentally. In synch - I can't remember who started it - we started doing the frontal grind, rhythmically pushing our bodies together, now in sheer passion.

I pulled away when the "fun" songs came on, freezing my moves and then jumping around in a circle, as I always do, to the tune of Jump On It. I felt the relaxed rapport, and asked if she'd taken the metro in when it got close to closing time. Then, I knew it was about time for me to leave.

"Ady, I'm gonna get out of here."
From her expression, I could sense that my departure meant something to her. I meant something to her.

I added, "Are you on Feycebook?"
She nodded, then added enthusiastically with a smile, "Yeah, I'm on Feycebook."

I pulled out one of my cards, and said, "Take this. Don't lose it. I'll talk to you later."
The genuineness of her smile and enthusiasm was unmistakable.

I walked away, thinking of the possibilities.

In the coat check line, I spoke to the girl behind me, asking if she'd had a good night. I joked that she looked like she'd just come from a swim, since her hair was soaked with sweat. She laughed and spoke back to me, totally unlike many cold, standoffish girls I'd tried speaking to on past nights at clubs.

On the way out, one of the employees I'd never noticed before said to be safe. I told him to have a good night, and he gave me a fist bump. It reminded me that another one of the staff inside had given me a friendly, impromptu pat on the shoulder last week.

I walked outside, and Danny called me by name, telling me he'd see me next time and to take care of myself.

I walked into the garage, and the attendant, who I speak to every week when I park for SuperBar, smiled and waved happily to me.

It dawned on me: tonight, everyone liked me. Even the few girls who weren't interested had been nice to me! Perhaps through the combination of my vibrant, friendly, free spirit and my noticeable status with the club staff, I had simply become popular.

Popularity is a long, long way from shyness.

Driving home, I felt a rare kind of satisfaction. It reminded me of the way I felt after hanging out with Amorita's friends at a party over the summer, completely free from inhibition. I had the feeling that I would soon have many friends, and a great girlfriend, all without the need for craigslist, eHarmony, or any other online nonsense. I could entertain people and make friends any weekend of the year! I then started to believe that the endeavor that has defined the last 18 months of my life is one of the great undertakings in the history of mankind. It was an unbelievable feeling; the kind of thing you have to experience before you have any idea at all what you've been missing.

Mission Confusion

2009-01-21T20:34:00.000-08:00

For a while, I thought I had this thing licked. In the final weeks of 2007, I had more dates than I had time to write about. I could easily say they all went between "pretty well" and "fantastic" - certainly a far cry from what I described in the early days of the mission - but somehow, I ended up being snubbed by all four women.

Amazing.

In the spirit of metaphors about falling off of horses and all that, I simply kept going. After feeling an entirely new brand of confidence after my date with Bina, it seemed as if the tremendous improvement I'd made since July had to be enough. I'd put my heart and soul into changing my life, and finally, it must have been time for my efforts to be rewarded. The mission was always about more, but now I knew what I wanted: a girlfriend.

And so I kept dating.

Date #49

On a Wednesday night after work, I met Vickie, a girl I'd been e-mailing after we met on eHarmony a while ago. I'd done little preparation and strategizing, instead thinking that I need not do so anymore. I realized my error almost immediately, as my greeting - "Heyyy Vickie" - came out sounding soft and weak, like it typically does at work. I hadn't intentionally projected my voice from the outset, which is one of the few tricks I've discovered that works with surprising consistency.

As we sat and talked over coffee, I was moderately inhibited. I tried to break out of it by connecting my true personality to my voice, but oddly, there seemed to be something physically wrong this time. I was still getting over a cold, and the antihistamine I'd taken affected my throat and thus my speaking ability.

Nonetheless, I improved. I'd had a few conversation topics planned as usual, and made a concerted effort to entertain, which is something that I've come to look forward to and enjoy, as if it were a challenge, or even a sport. When my question about Vickie's job as a Physician Assistant led to her telling me about minor medical problems, I skillfully shifted the conversation and made a joke by adding, in a loose, uninhibited voice, "Spoken like a true physician assistant!"

At first, Vickie hadn't asked me many questions; it seemed as if she were just asking a few things to be polite and make conversation. After I started to improve, though, I'd managed to find a topic we both had plenty to say about, and lo and behold: we were now having a good conversation. I was relaxed and joking when she asked, out-of-the-blue, "So do you live alone?"
I knew then that she had become interested in me, and so the question had suddenly become relevant.

When we parted ways, she said, "Well I had a good time. Let me know if you want to get together again."

I had succeeded in turning around both my inhibition and my date's interest level after a rocky start. Still, though, I knew that she wasn't really my type - something that I've come to understand after dating dozens of women - so I didn't plan to ask her out again.

Date #50

After being matched on eHarmony and exchanging short e-mails for over a month, I gave Bridgette a call after the holidays. I bumbled a sentence or two, but managed to make a humorous comment after a few minutes. We planned to arrange to finally meet the next week.
I had felt very stiff on the phone and figured my anxiety showed, but I soon learned that I had nothing to worry about. Bridgette sent me an e-mail:

"Thanks for call! Hopefully we can meet up soon! Have a great week!"

I then realized that she'd probably been just as nervous and self-conscious as I'd been. I also remembered her first eHarmony message, in which she'd asked a question based on something in my profile in order to relate to me and start a conversation. It was striking because I've done that all the time, but had never noticed women doing the same.

She sent me a text on Friday, asking if I wanted to get coffee or a drink over the weekend. She was asking me out. I'd never done a blind date on a Saturday, but if she was willing to ask me out, I was certainly willing to devote some weekend time to meeting her.

Starbucks.

She looked just like her pictures, except that her enormous green eyes were a remarkable sight in person.

This time, I stuck to my plan. I projected my voice intentionally, and was off to a good start. As we waited, she asked if I'd done anything the night before. I had anticipated the question, and had a joke prepared; it had been six degrees outside that night, so I said calmly, "Oh, yeah. It was such a nice night, I just laid outside underneath the stars..."

Now, I was not bumbling. The joke was executed perfectly.

She reached in her purse, and I pulled out a bill to pay for the drinks and said, "I got it." She asked if I was sure, and I took it as a subtle indicator that she must have been a little nervous: no one else had ever said that at Starbucks.

As we sat and talked, I felt a nervous tension in my body. It was like that which we became all too familiar with in the early days of this blog, but now, I had more control. I felt tense, but what was there to actually stop me from saying and doing whatever came to mind? From simply being myself?

We hadn't had much of a conversation online, and I really wasn't sure if we had much in common. The easiest thing to talk about was our jobs, but I felt as if that were boring, and that I was spending too much time on it. Bridgette wasn't asking many questions, and I started to feel early on that she wasn't interested. I did my best to stay present instead of thinking about it, but with the tension, thinking of things to say was difficult. Even when asked a basic question about my job, it took me several moments to think of the words for even a basic description of what I do every day!

Instead of letting the tension translate to inhibition, I forced myself to take on my uninhibited persona. For the most part, it worked: I was able to project my voice well, and say whatever came to mind. When my date asked if I had any pets, I played my usual game of giving her three guesses before admitting to having a frog. Telling a beautiful 26-year-old woman about a pet frog would seem a little intimidating, but I went on to tell her the story of how he got his name. Instead of just spouting off preprepared questions like in an interview, I was able to sound natural, such as when I prefaced a question with "I know I already asked you this [online], but..."

By now, my personality was showing through, even though the tension remained. I thought of some humorous questions and comments, and even managed to do a little friendly teasing. When she mentioned the intelligence of one of her pet cats, I briefly told her the story of Christian the Lion, telling her that she had to see the YouTube video for herself. In effort to keep the conversation going, I asked her about Feycebook, and then showed her one of my cards. She said it was super nerdy. I exclaimed, "Oh yeah!", giving her a high-five. I didn't think she found the nerdiness at all attractive - she even said it was a little creepy - but I consciously decided to just let go and be myself.

Eventually, the inevitable silence occurred. After experiencing freedom from inhibition in earlier days, I had decided that no silence need be awkward. Instead, all that was necessary was to share your present thoughts or feelings with the other person. I remembered what one of my many dates from the past year had said, and so I repeated it:

"Lets see.....what else can I ask you..."

I asked if she had any tattoos to get the conversation going again, but I had been asking almost all of the questions. We'd been together close to an hour, and yet, she hadn't really learned any of the interesting facts about me - from the dancing, to the acting, to the rock climbing or Miami trip - simply because she hadn't asked. It seemed obvious that she simply wasn't interested, and I figured she was just trying to wait out the date to be polite.

Soon, I said - with uninhibited voice inflection - "Well, I don't know what else you have planned today, so I won't hold you."

She reminded me that she was going to the furniture store, which prompted me to tell her one more thing about my job. There was a brief exchange, and then she stood up.

Walking out to the car with her, I wondered what I'd done wrong. I realized that even though I'd felt a little tense, I had mostly managed to be myself anyway. Why was she so uninterested? Was it physical attraction? I knew I looked even better in person, so I was hopelessly confused. What had she been expecting?

It wasn't at all surprising, but she didn't say she had a good time. Instead, she said only, "Well, thanks for coming out."

I told her to have fun at the furniture store, and - just for the hell of it - said I'd talk to her later. She didn't say anything in response, seemingly so as not to even feign the slightest bit of interest.

I was sure that I would never see her again, but for some reason, I liked her anyway. I thought about sending her some sort of e-mail that would hopefully lead to us being friends. Ultimately, I ended up just sending her the link to the Christian the Lion video, without any words.

Date #51

After my date with Bridgette, I wasn't too upset. I had always thought it would be funny to have multiple dates with different women on the same day, and finally, that day had arrived. In a few more hours, I was to meet Tiffany - another girl from eHarmony - at a Starbucks in the state bordering mine.

I was extremely optimistic about Tiffany. We'd hit it off in our online conversation, which quickly turned romantic with genuine compliments a little lighthearted flirting. She'd written me long, upbeat messages, replete with exclamation marks and smileys. I thought that this was the girl I was going to marry.

I'd thought the same about several other girls I met during the mission, and, well, I don't have to tell you how those ended up.

She walked into Starbucks and said hello. I gave her a hug, and she asked if I was going out tonight, since I'd mentioned that I only had a few hours free that day.

I stumbled only slightly, answering the question in such a way as to avoid telling her that I'd been on another date earlier, and that I was going out to SuperBar alone hoping to meet girls later. Immediately, my confident, uninhibited persona started to show.

And it never let up.

I started to make conversation, asking a few questions like where she worked. She gave some short answers, and then when her phone rang, she answered it.

It was her dad calling about her mom's impending arrival in the city, but she didn't apologize or excuse herself.

I asked if she wanted to go get some food, and we did. I was as relaxed and confident as ever, perhaps because Tiffany didn't look or sound quite the way I expected, and was already turning me off with the poor manners.

As I drove, I continued to make conversation, but my date acted like a dead fish. At one point, I asked if she knew the clubs in Miami, since it's one of her favorite places, but instead of answering, she told me to make a left turn, and never returned to my question.

As we ate, things did not change. She answered her phone again, and was only minimally responsive to me, asking only one or two questions the entire time. I was annoyed, and started thinking to myself how much I disliked the girl - which was a lot. Still, though, I intentionally remained gentlemanly and upbeat, continuing to practice my skill of entertaining. I was able to get her to joke around a little - probably an overstatement - by talking about a topic she was very interested in (Barack Obama), but it wasn't nearly enough to salvage the horrendous date.

When I dropped her off, she thanked me for dinner, and told me to have a safe drive - all with minimal emotion. I had been at my best with her, carrying on the same personality as online, but Tiffany acted as if she practically resented hanging out with me for a couple hours. What could she have possibly been expecting? I was confused.

As soon as I arrived home, I deleted her number from my phone.
_______________

Now that I've been staying so busy, my time for posting here has been limited. I haven't published all of the posts that I've written, and there is in fact a partially-written New Years Resolution post hanging around. Spoiler alert!!! One of the items on that list is "Abandon online dating." After my spectacular dating failure on this day, I finally wanted to really give it up.

When I logged in to cancel my eHarmony membership, I noticed that Tiffany had viewed my profile a couple days after our date. The next day, she again did same. Surely, she couldn't have been interested, hoping that I would ask her out again?

I virtually despised this girl for acting the way she did on our date, so it didn't matter. But there was still the matter of Bridgette, who for some reason I liked a lot and e-mailed the link, hoping we could somehow become friends.

I checked my e-mail.

Super cool!!

I saw an animal planet show about an orphaned rhino being raised by a woman, and how they were friends for life even after the rhino went back to the wild. I tried to find it on youtube, but no luck.

Good meeting you finally, after a yearrrrrrr!!

I'm in town next week if you're around for a drink.

B

I was confused, but overjoyed to the point of jumping out of my chair. It's amazing to think that you can completely lift someone's spirits by simply suggesting meeting up for a drink.

Simple, powerful, and beautiful.

Date #48: Absolute Confidence

2009-01-16T19:31:00.000-08:00

Even though I had no real social life to speak of in the years before the mission, I did have a couple of romantic pursuers over the years. With them, the issue was not my shyness; rather, I was simply not interested. I was relaxed when pursued by a girl I was not interested in, but completely inhibited with the ones I liked. Quite the dilemma.

Back then, I wondered what it would be like for a girl I actually liked to pursue me the way a couple of others did. With the girls asking for my phone number, complimenting me, calling me, inviting me out and so on, how could I possibly be inhibited? In those rare cases, I could do no wrong! I started to think that the solution to my lifelong problem of shyness was to simply luck up, crossing paths with a girl I'd like who thought I was as great as the other few did.

It turns out that Bina, the woman who made the first move at SuperBar, is just like those few girls who were so interested in me back in college and high school. After our first date, she called me after three days. She sent me a text on Christmas, and then many more afterwards in efforts to set up another get-together. Partly because of our 10 year age difference, though, my interest was minimal - just like back in school. This time, though, I decided to give it a try. It would be a learning experience, at the least, and why shouldn't I give her a chance to make me fall in love with her?

And so arose the forty-eighth date of the mission.
___________________________

With Bina, I never feel even a smidgeon of anxiety in person, on the phone, or in any other situation. Simply put, you can't be anxious with a person with whom you believe you can do no wrong. After picking her up and driving to the restaurant, I felt no change. Instead, I was my now-oft described relaxed, uninhibited, entertaining self, effortlessly thinking of things to say.

As we sat and talked next to the Hibachi grill, Bina's lack of confidence with me was obvious. She was very talkative, happy, and excited to be with me, but it was as if she thought I was some kind of celebrity out of her league. As we talked, she was compelled to check appearance using a compact. She mirrored my behaviors by eating when and how I ate and things like that - normal signs that someone likes you - but worried too much about offending me. From my perspective, she had nothing to worry about in that respect. Still, though, when I told her that I was going to wash my hands because I was afraid of catching another cold, she said she hoped I didn't mind that she wasn't concerned herself. When I returned from the bathroom, she'd apparently thought it over, and decided that she should wash her hands too in case it bothered me. Worst of all, when I stood up to go to the bathroom, she jokingly told me not to jump out of the window to get away.

As it turns out, this degree of diffidence is very unattractive - even in a woman. I was genuinely turned off.

As we were eating, I noticed a girl at another table looking at us and smirking. She pointed us out to her male companion, and it was obvious that a comment was being made about the age difference between myself and my date. I knew to ignore the onlookers, who were way out of line, but the little incident certainly didn't help matters.

After dinner, we headed over to a bowling alley around the corner. I was completely at ease, and noticed that I was able to keep joking and entertaining even while checking out the action going around in the rest of the room. I felt as if I was doing next to nothing - and really, I was - but my date was smiling, laughing, and obviously having more fun than anyone else I've ever been out with. She kept giving me little hugs to cheer me up after several gutter balls and other pathetic attempts (I'm not much of a bowler!). At some point, she joked that she would give me the magic touch by holding my hand before my turn. Lo and behold, I bowled a strike on my next try! She then turned it into a ritual, coming to sit next to me and holding my hand before each turn. In the forty seven dates before this, I'd scarcely even touched my dates, but Bina couldn't keep her hands off of me.

When we arrived back at her place, she invited me in - another rarity. After I took a seat on the sofa, she said she'd be right back. I heard her running up the stairs to get a heater and return to me as quickly as possible. She was 35 years old and would be my boss if we worked at the same company, but with me, she reverted to being a lovestruck schoolgirl.

As we sat on the sofa and chatted, I knew that I could do whatever I wanted. For the first time in my life, I was experiencing absolute, unadulterated confidence. I was experiencing the powerful feeling of knowing that another human being would submit to me in any way I wished. I could say or do anything. Perhaps partly because of this emotion, I felt physically attracted to Bina, who was about a foot away.

After 10 minutes or so, I said that I'd better head home and get ready for work. As Bina disarmed the security system and opened the front door for me, I sensed concealed disappointment.

It was time to make a decision, and so I did.

In a softer, sweeter, slower voice, I stated my usual "Alright...have a good night."

I had decided to keep my options open.

I placed my right hand on Bina's waist, leaned in, and kissed her. Whether or not I was interested, my body recognized that I was a boy and she was a girl, and reacted accordingly.

The kiss lingered for a couple of seconds before I pulled away. Without thinking, I then put my left arm around Bina to hug her. In silence, she responded slowly, pausing between movements as she made the motions to hug me back. It was as if she were confused: she had been mesmerized by my kiss.

Without a word, I walked out the door.

Friendship Windfall

2009-01-12T17:01:00.000-08:00

For Christmas, I got a new touchscreen cell phone with a feature that lets you designate people as "Favorites" so that you can call or text them quickly. Naturally, I thought to add all of my friends as Favorites. It was then that I realized there were only three. I made a few friends along the way during my mission, but only two of those remained.

For mostly different reasons, I had posted an ad on craigslist a few days before. Listed under the "strictly platonic" section, it simply asked whether anyone knew of a studio teaching hip-hop dance in the area, since the location of my first course has switched over to a strictly ballroom. I expected the replies to provide only a word of advice, at best. This may have been the case, except that I asked a couple of questions in response to kickstart a conversation with the two girls who replied.

The first was Rebecca. I simply asked what kind of dance she did. She responded enthusiastically, telling me all about her experience with dance and asking my story. We then talked live through gchat, where I discovered that she's just about the sweetest girl you could imagine. When I added her on Facebook, she asked if I wanted to meet some day, when she gets back from her trip to Israel.

The second reply was from Natalie. She asked me to let her know when I found a place, and I gave her the web sites Rebecca had sent to me. We didn't e-mail much after that until one day when I logged into gchat by accident. She sent me a text.

"hey how are you?"
"hey hey. good =) you?"
"I am ok. although lately I have been slumping back into my introspective moods"

At that point, I thought jokingly to myself.... we've got a crazy one on our hands here! In the following days, I would learn that she'd made the statement because she thought I was her close friend with the same first name. For me, the mistake was a windfall of good fortune.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked if she was coming to dance class. She said that she hadn't thought about it, but that it would make her less introspective if so. The idea of introspection reminded me that a couple of my acting classmates had said it was their reason for taking the class, so I mentioned it.

She said she loved acting, and said that we must meet for coffee sometime, since we had such similar interests. Then, she suggested that we exchange pictures. I told her my name to look me up on feycebook.

We had 3 feycebook friends in common.

We'd gone to the same college, which was no small coincidence with a mid-sized school in a large metro area. We had even been in the same graduating class. As we chatted more, we discovered that we had more things still in common, such as a love for writing.

At work the day of the class, I logged into gchat again by accident. Natalie happened to be online from work too, but had decided not to take the dance class until she had a sudden change of heart. She said she'd definitely go if I came to pick her up, and so I did.
____________________

I was off to a bit of a slow start. The only problem was that I couldn't stay present; I hadn't expected to meet my new friend so soon, and I just couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. I was still alright, though, and relaxed by the time we reached class.

There were lots of people around our age in the class, and I realized it would be easier to talk to and meet them now that I was attending with a friend. That will be a story for another post.

On the way back to her home, Natalie and I talked quite easily, and I knew I definitely liked her. She asked what I was doing tomorrow, and suggested that we meet up to practice the new dances we'd just learned.

I had already been planning to go to a new nightclub the next night, so when I got home I decided to invite Natalie. She was happy to go, and it would be the first time I'd see a new friend or date two days in a row.
____________________

This time, I was able to stay present and be myself from the start. The conversation moved along easily as we talked about her home country of Holland, music, work, and whatever else came to mind. In line at the club, it seemed like the universe was now on my side in this misison as there was another remarkable stroke of luck: our place in line was directly behind a guy I had known in college! I had seen him on the airplane to Miami, and remarkably again in South Beach. I noticed the uninhibited, fluent sound of my voice as I exclaimed, "I don't believe it!" and shook his hand before introducing him to Natalie. I told her the story as well as other things about myself that she hadn't asked. It was a major change from the times I've been inhibited, when talking about myself has always been the most difficult of tasks.

I had almost always gone to clubs by myself, so I wasn't sure if I would be able to be as wild and free when I was with someone I knew. Instead of thinking about it, I stayed present, and found that there was no problem. I danced vibrantly, sang loudly, and played with some of the other club patrons. The only difference was that I stayed with Natalie to keep her entertained instead of venturing from one spot to another in search of a dance partner. In fact, I didn't dance with any other girls, until a blonde and a brunette decided to sandwich me for a minute or so.

On the way home, I noticed that Natalie was just as relaxed and open with me as I was with her. Suddenly, I had a distinct feeling that I could ask her to hang out with me anytime, and she would be more than happy to. I started to think of all the things I like to do, but that I usually have no one to do with. Natalie just seemed so accessible, not to mention that we'd be going to dance class together every week. We'd met less than 48 hours ago, but she was already one of the one few true friends I've ever had.

Mission Miscellany

2009-01-01T20:00:00.000-08:00

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?

Mission Mania: Date #45

2009-01-01T12:50:00.000-08:00

The evening of my forty-fifth date marked a landmark occasion, since it was the first time I'd gone out with someone I didn't meet online. I had called Bina - the woman who surprisingly made the first move at SuperBar - and asked her to meet me for coffee. I felt and sounded great on the phone with her, and asked for the date after only a few minutes of conversation. The fact that she was the pursuer had inevitably given me complete confidence, and it showed.

She texted me shortly before we planned to meet, asking if we could go someplace with food instead. I agreed, and we decided to go to T.G.I. Friday's.

The dynamic intrigued me. The only things I knew about her were those which I could ascertain from a few minutes at SuperBar and a few more on the phone. There was no eHarmony profile giving me a snapshot of her life. There were no e-mails to review for potential conversation topics. It was also different in that there would be no defining moment at which we'd be meeting for the first time after such conversations; that was already done.

I felt no anxiety.

We sat and talked, and I felt completely confident and relaxed throughout the conversation. I had a few obvious topics in mind (for example, SuperBar, siblings, television, and school since she'd been studying when I called), but it was easy to think of things to say anyway. We'd met the traditional way, but it was no different than the dates with my online dating site matches.

I wasn't sure how interested I was. I felt some physical attraction, but as we chatted, I became more and more aware of one issue that never occurs with online dating. That is, when she mentioned things like being at the same company 9 years and, well, cassette tapes......it was obvious that she was significantly older than I. I couldn't help but wonder how much older. When the waitress asked Bina for ID when she ordered an alcoholic drink, Bina laughed, blushed, and thanked her for doing so, all as if it were a ridiculous thing to do.

She has at least 35 years to my 25.

I usually hit a wall and clam up when I'm not interested, but that didn't happen on this date. I'd started out with a steady, relaxed supply of lighthearted humor, and there was no turning back. Things were clearly going well: when there was a break in the conversation, Bina broke the silence by asking, with a vocal tone and facial expression of slight worry, "Are you having a good time?"

I told her I was, but I felt a little sad hearing the question. I knew what it was like to be rejected, and I didn't want her to experience the feelings I've come to know all too well.

We were together over two hours until I said I'd better get ready for my office party the next day. As we stood up, she said she hoped I'd had a good time. I saw her lean, attractive body, and thought that at least maybe there was a chance. I walked her to her car, and she said she'd had fun. I said "me too" and told her I'd talk to her later.

Remaining the pursuer, she called me three dates later. I returned the missed call, but she didn't seem to have anything she particularly wanted to say. I could sense her anxiously sitting on the other end, waiting to see whether or not I'd deliver the dreaded Friends Speech.

Although it'd be interesting, I did no such thing. Instead, I asked her a couple questions, made a comment or two, and said maybe we'd do something when she returns from holiday travel. After that, I simply got off the phone. She sent me a text Christmas afternoon, and that's where it stands.

Mission Mania: Date #44

2008-12-13T16:43:00.000-08:00

In compliance with the Ashlley Doctrine, I went on my third date of the week this Thursday. It was with Shantelle, yet another 26-year-old girl I'd met on eHarmony.

Shantelle was a little different. For starters, her profile talked about being ready for someone who is "serious about building a wonderful monogamous relationship." The same is probably true for most of the women on the site, but they usually don't advertise it.

We e-mailed back and forth a few times, and all of her messages had a serious tone to them - even when we were talking about favorite colors. She soon asked for me to call her instead. In over 15 months, she was one of only two or three people who wanted to chat on the phone at length before meeting.

I called her, and was comfortable, confident, and relaxed. It was if I had been put at ease by the fact that she seemed so serious. It didn't seem like she would be a good match for me, so there was nothing to lose or gain. She did, in fact, continue to seem serious when she spoke with her voice instead of the keyboard. There wasn't much in the way of jokes or laughter, compared to most people, but I could tell she enjoyed talking to me.

After a few shorter phone conversations, we met up at Starbucks.
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I wasn't sure if I had parked in a legal spot. My space was directly in front of the building, and it seemed a little too good to be true. I took a cursory look at the signs, but my date had already been waiting for a long time, so I wanted to get inside.

I walked in.

"Made it!"

I didn't even bother saying hello. After the phone conversations, I felt as if we were already so well acquainted that it wasn't necessary. She stood up and hugged me.

And then, we talked. The Starbucks was oddly quiet, with others around us reading, and no music in the background. My date spoke quietly, but I knew it was more than just the surroundings, since she had done the same on the phone. She was attractive, but, as expected, overly serious in demeanor.

I'd gone into the date planning to have fun, regardless of how serious she might be. I'd gained so much confidence in recent days that I looked forward to the evening as if it were a n upcoming performance. I wanted to entertain.

Though I was completely at ease and being myself, my date's choice of conversation topics at first left little room for my humor. She talked about the ethics involved with her job as a mental health clinician, and other heavy topics like that. I genuinely found it to be quite boring after a while, but kept up my end of the conversation. I asked questions and gave a few opinions, only to find that I didn't agree with her about several things. I could have tried to demonstrate why she was incorrect at times, but I consciously decided not to. I was not there to debate - I was there to entertain!

Finally, I had a chance to introduce a new subject. I asked about the music on her iPod, which she had on the table. She mentioned that everyone she'd been in relationships with had had odd, weird tastes in music that were opposite from hers. I joked, "You know what that means...." She said yes, and then added, "Opposite attracts." She wasn't on the same page, so I said, "No, it means you're the one with the odd, weird tastes!" (Duh)

Of course, I was being completely, 100% uninhibited. I was saying and doing whatever I was thinking and feeling. My voice was perfect, and the whole nine yards. I was the best I've ever been.

As we continued talking, when I noticed her boots. They were fantastic-looking black and white designer boots. I interrupted what she was saying to interject, "[Wow] Those are nice boots!" For some reason, I really liked the boots. I'd never understood how there could be anything sexy about footwear until that moment.

By now, Shantelle was starting to warm up. I didn't know if I could really be interested in her, but I was enjoying demonstrating my hard-earned social skills. My humor seemed to be breaking her down, revealing the fun side beneath her overly serious exterior.

I was no longer bored. After I pointed out that she didn't seem to have a Boston accent, she did an impression of the heavy accent characteristic of people in her home town. With completely loose, uninhibited mannerisms and tone of voice, I slouched back in my chair and waved my finger, telling her that her impression was so good that maybe she should come to acting school with me. I saw her capacity for humor once again when she asked, "So what do you do when you're not listening to death metal?" after I mentioned liking mere rock music. She hadn't even had an answer to the question of what she liked to do for fun, but I was starting to feel as if I could help her find the light, fun side of herself that obviously existed.

We'd been together a while, and I was following my new philosophy of letting first dates end naturally. Throughout the conversation, I continued to practice my skill of relating to my partner. I asked questions about things I knew she was interested in, like the upcoming Obama presidency. Her mention that she had just finished her last graduation requirement that day also came in handy. When there was a shot break in the conversation, I said randomly, "I feel like you should be out partying tonight." She happily agreed, sharing with me her feelings about the accomplishment.

I wasn't just good. I was damn good. I sat thinking that I was putting on a dating clinic the last several days. I was the best, and it was no exaggeration.

I'd been periodically glancing at my car parked questionably on the street outside. Shantelle had thought it was fine, but a policeman pulled up behind my Honda. I waited at first, and then exclaimed "Oh no!" the way Jerry Seinfeld would, and immediately ran outside when he started walking towards it.

It was pouring down rain.

I found that there was already a $100 parking ticket in my windshield. I decided that I might as well stay, and headed back to Shantelle until the officer stopped me and said, "That's a ticket, not a permit."

I was impressed by the officer's humorous comment, and wondered whether he came up with it on the spot, or if he had used it before.

Finally, I got back to Shantelle after moving my car.

I was unphased by this, the second parking incident in as many dates. I was completely confident, and the speed with which I vacated Starbucks and ran to my car had been nothing short of impressive.

I'd already known Shantelle liked me. After an hour, she had asked, "So after meeting me, do you think you want to continue talking to me?" When she asked a general question about me, I said, in the most relaxed way possible, "I'm pretty awesome." I exuded so much confidence that her only response was "You look like you're feeling awesome."

I offered to take her home. When we encountered a huge puddle on the way to my car, I offered, half-kidding, to carry her across. My constant barrage of lightheartedness prevented her from returning to any heavy subjects, and we finally reached her doorstep and hugged.

"Well, I definitely had fun. Definitely call me when you get home."
"Sure, I'll send you a text."
"No....you can call me....."
"Alright. Well I'll talk to you later - congrats again!"

I called her when I got home, and she reiterated that she'd had fun, and was updating her Feycebook status to say that she'd just returned from a good night out. She said not to be a stranger, and that if she didn't hear from me by the end of the weekend, she'd probably give me a call.

She'd mentioned during the date that I wouldn't have to guess about the way she felt, and now it couldn't seem more true. It'd be the stark opposite of dating most every other woman.

I thought that maybe that was just what I needed.

Mission Mania: Date #43

2008-12-12T17:27:00.001-08:00

After my last experience with what looked like it'd develop into a relationship, I've really taken some good advice to heart. I've essentially implemented the Ashlley Doctrine, in which I'm determined to keep dating multiple women until I'm in a Feycebook-official relationship.

And so, I met another one of my eHarmony matches on Monday. Carmen had been the exact opposite of Pernella, speaking less through e-mail than anyone I had ever met up with. Early on, she sent me a couple messages in which she only minimally responded to my questions, not asking me any in return. I told her I wasn't sensing much romantic interest from her, but I'd love to be friends.

She implied that she was interested after all.

Online, I'm obviously always able to be myself. In fact, I've largely shaped myself into who I am today by participating in these hundreds of online communications. My e-mails have a very confident tone, and my profile portrays me as a super fun, busy, exciting guy. When I started out, it was a huge stretch to come up with true words that would convey that message. Now, though, I've done so many things toward the aim of socializing that I've actually become that person.

Before I went to Miami, I told Carmen she was an enigma because I'd thought she'd only been responding to be polite. She said she was anything but; I countered by proclaiming, "Nope. You're fascinating, babe. I'm going to unravel the mystery."

It's that type of confidence that I maintain in all of my e-mails. It's that person who my dates expect to meet. It's a person who my dates are excited to meet; even Carmen was willing to meet up with me even when she was sick - so that she wouldn't miss the opportunity- but I told her we'd wait.

I knew so little about Carmen that I was planning to meet up with her mostly because it's always so fascinating to go on dates with people after talking to them online. Unlike with Pernella, there was as yet no connection. Nothing to put on the line. It was a just-for-fun date in my mind, and as a result, I had virtually no anxiety.

We met up at Starbucks.
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I saw her through the window, ordering at the counter before I arrived. Unusually tall, with dark hair and glasses.

We hugged, and exchanged how-are-you's. I sat, but she implored me to order something so she wouldn't have to drink alone.

We exchanged how-are-you's once again. Already, I could hear the variance in inflection in my voice. I still had some warming up to do, but I knew that tonight, inhibition would play a minimal role.

Before the date, I thought about what to expect. I figured that since she hadn't had much to say online, she might be the most untalktative person I'd ever met. I might, for once, have to carry the conversation.

That ended up not being the case. I'd come with a handful of topics in mind, but as usual, didn't really need them. She seemed relaxed, and talkative enough for the both of us.

And so, we talked. I asked lots of questions, and she had lots to say. Soon, though, there was something striking about the conversation. We often weren't really talking about anything. Instead, there were jokes galore and a whole lot of silliness. She congratulated me on being the first person she'd met from eHarmony, and then said that I seemed more nervous than she. I joked that maybe I was just acting, and she responded with some bit about me being a midget in a costume. It would have all been pretty silly and unfunny, except for the fact that....we liked each other. It was an unmistakable feeling. I quickly became relaxed to the point that I could feel the difference in my body posture. After mentioning Feycebook (a good conversation topic for almost all young people), I said, "wanna see addicted?" and showed her one of my Feycebook cards. She got a kick out of it.

Carmen mentioned that she was taking a sculpting class and made figures, and I responded that I'd have to sculpt stick figures; she joked that they'd be figures, but that'd be about all. When I told her my age, she pointed out that she was a year older than me. I used my handy joke about my date being a sugar mama. She responded, "No....cougar!" and we both made a little rawr sound and clawing motion.

I realized that I've become an outstanding conversationalist when I'm uninhibited. I've learned that the most powerful thing one can do is to relate to his partner. Doing this, of course, requires that we know what is important to other individuals.

When we were talking about movies, Carmen mentioned seeing a new Holocaust film, among other things. With the Christmas music playing in the background, she later commented on how much she dislikes it, since she's Jewish and always had to hear so much growing up. Her religion was obviously important to her, and I had a chance to relate to it, in my typical humorous fashion. I told her that I always wish people Happy Chanukah, even though I'm not Jewish, just to balance things out since everyone else says Merry Christmas. She gave me a high-five.

We had been talking a while, and without much actual thought, I had a feeling that I didn't want it to end. In the past, I've purposely limited most of my Starbucks dates to 45-60 minutes, but decided to finally take a reader's advice and let things end naturally. This time, though, was the first I remember ever enjoying someone's company so much that I hoped I wouldn't have to leave them.

Carmen and I continued chatting, and it was obvious that we had a lot in common. She was just like me in the way of doing a vast number of different activities - like playing laser tag and shooting skeet. We had even both used meetup.com to make new friends (she's had more success with that than I have). And like me, she was goofy, fun, and playful.

As we talked, I couldn't help but remember what she'd said on eHarmony about being a "very, very" affectionate person when in a relationship. She said that she likes lots of hugs, hand-holding, and kissing, and has a high libido. Looking at her, my mind couldn't help but wander off into that territory. She was good-looking, but I was already starting to become attracted on a non-superficial level as well.

Her phone rang, and she checked it; it was her mom. She said that her mom could just leave a message. Later, she checked the time, and mentioned something about her bedtime being soon. I told her not to let me keep her, but she ignored the comment.

She said that she'd been doing all the talking. I didn't know what to say, since she hadn't asked a specific question, so I just responded "You're doing fine." She told me to say something, and then, silence. It was not an awkward silence; for some reason, we were just making funny faces at each other, until I finally asked "So what else do you do for fun?!" She bursted out laughing at the fact that I'd just asked her a question instead of saying something about myself.

After some more chatting, she checked the time again. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who didn't want our date to end. She said, "I guess we can stay another 10 minutes or so?"

True to her eHarmony profile, I learned that she's a very open person. She shared with me her fear of her biological clock starting to tick when she got older, and said that if she isn't in a relationship when she gets to be 35, she'll just go to a sperm bank. Carmen also told me how she was extremely shy up through high school. Yep. I doubt she ever had a blog, but she's already accomplished the task to which I've dedicated the last 17 months of my life.

We were the only customers left in the coffee shop, with the employees mopping the floor around us and preparing to shut down. In a natural, almost simultaneous way, we agreed to head out and stood up. The guy mopping the floor said that we could stay another 10 minutes, and that he didn't want us to feel that we had to leave. I thanked him, and told him we were fine.

Carmen, on the other hand, took the opportunity to make one of my typical jokes. She said he was trying to get rid of us. Immediately, I felt as if I had been too serious - how could I let her be funnier than me?! - so I came up with something. I told her, "You know, I think he's just trying to get rid of one of us....you!!" She laughed, and I said that he was looking at me when he said we could stay. She joked about the guy checking me out, and I said it was okay, because I was used to it. She asked if I meant by guys or girls, and I said both. As we walked out the door, I told her she'd see, if she kept hanging out with me long enough.

She laughed jubilantly.

When we reached her car, she said with a big smile as I hugged her, "Well it was nice meeting you!" I responded in kind, and she told me to have a safe trip home. I said "See ya," and the smile never left her face.

I looked out the window after getting in my car, and saw her wave as she passed by.

Fifteen minutes later, I was only about a third of the way home when I heard my phone beep. It was a text.

It was great to meet you! Next time I'm asking the questions!

I responded after arriving home.

"I can't help but ask questions, babe; you're fascinating."

Mission Mania: Date #42

2008-12-10T18:09:00.000-08:00

After Autumn, I decided to take Ashlley's advice and date multiple women. With the huge boost in response rate on eHarmony after I turned 25, it became very easy to find dates.

Of the 8-10 women I've been talking to through eHarmony, two stood out far above the rest. The first was Pernella, who I exchanged e-mails with for about a month after going through the "guided communication" stage on the site She wrote more than anyone I'd ever met there, and compelled me to do the same. We found things we had in common, such as the surprising fact that she'd majored in computer science in college. More importantly, though, we connected, joking around and teasing each other about being nerds.

When I offered the standard Starbucks date - admitting that it's what people are supposed to do after meeting online - she suggested we ignore the convention and do something else instead. It would be my first dinner first-date since the historic Date #1.
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I decided to dress up in my clubbing attire, and knew that I was devastatingly good-looking. We hugged when she walked into the restaurant, and so it began.

Usually, any noticeable feelings of anxiety - that unmistakable, yet undescribable feeling - vanish almost immediately after I meet my date. This time, though weak, it stuck around for much of the evening.

Even still, I was fine. After a few minutes, I had warmed up, and was mostly able to be myself. I had a few topics of conversation in mind, but didn't need to search for them I'm truly past that point. Instead, I moved the conversation along effortlessly, without anything resembling an awkward silence.

Things were going well. I discovered that she had the same favorite TV show as me (How I Met Your Mother) and it proved to be a good topic of conversation. Thing weren't quite perfect, as I felt a little awkward at times, finding myself saying "You know...." while trying to explain things. My humor was about as good as ever, though, and I decided to relax and do whatever I wanted. In the past, I've avoided compliments and other things that show my interest. Now, with such an incredible number of dating options, I'm willing to experiment and risk coming on too strong, or anything else, if only for the fun of it.

Pernella is an attorney, and mentioned that she'd learned in school that a jury's decision is influenced by the lawyer's looks. I interjected that if so, she'd never lose a case! It felt good to compliment her; I liked her.

I liked her because she was extremely nice. In fact, she was easily the nicest girl I've ever been out with. A total sweetheart.

I noticed at least one subtle hint that she might feel the same way: she was mirroring me. We talked for a long time before even touching the food, until I finally took my silverware off the plate. She did the exact same thing. I waited before doing anything else, and so did she. As soon as I unwrapped my silverware, she did the same. I again waited a few minutes, until finally trying the food. She followed immediately.

When she asked why I've never tried alcohol, I gave my now-standard answer (initiated the day my inhibition died): "Just for the hell of it." Until then, she had never used any curse word in over an hour and a half. Then, only a few minutes later, she starting using the same word!

As time went on, I loosened up more and was able to find my playfulness. When I'm inhibited, my speech comes out sounding tentative and flat. When I'm not, my voice takes on a distinct quality of fluidness and variability. From day 1, these vocal qualities have been inextricably tied to my level of inhibition. Now, I was becoming untethered from its reigns. After asking whether Pernella had tattoos, I heard the variance in inflection in my voice as I exclaimed humorously, "What! No drug use, no tattoos..."

After carefully pronouncing a long sentence of Spanish words to order my desert, I said to the waiter in a playful tone, "I did good, didn't I?!" My date smiled and laughed. I was effortlessly able to think of things to say, including many jokes. When Pernella asked what I like about having a pet frog, I responded without thinking, "The companionship." She continued the joke.

I grew a little more anxious toward the end of dinner, but only because I wanted to quit while I was ahead.

I wish I had been able to.

My date had arrived via the subway, so I offered to take her home. The only problem was that I can never seem to remember exactly where I parked.

This time, I at least knew the garage. I was pretty sure of the level, though wasn't positive whether the color was red or dark orange. I had sent myself a text with a space number near my vehicle, but foolishly hadn't recorded the exact one.

I didn't see my car, so we walked around looking for it. I tried to make light of the situation, saying "See? You didn't know what you were getting into, did you?" She joked that yeah, she could have been home by now, but then tapped me laughing and said "Just kidding!" I later joked that she should know the garage since she's from the city, but she said, only half-kidding at best, that she couldn't know where I parked.

I wanted to be sure we had the right level, so we got on the elevator to check out the other options. Sure enough, it had to be the level we started on.

After about 10 anxious minutes of walking around the red level, I finally spotted my car. I was grateful to have found it, but knew that I had shattered my image of near-perfection.

We were back to chatting as usual on the way to her apartment, but there was one more stumbling block to add a little awkwardness and tarnish my confident image. I told her that I'd walk her up, as I forgot to do 41 dates ago.

I had to parallel park. I joked that we'd get to see my parallel parking skills, which weren't great since I was from the suburbs. It was obviously no big deal, but I didn't quite make it into the spot on the first try. I joked again, "Pathetic, huh?" as I waited for the traffic to pass so that I could make a second try. For some reason, she seemed to take it somewhat seriously, and said, "Aww! Are you embarrassed?"

I hadn't really been until that moment. I wasn't sure what to say, so I made another joke about my skills not being up to par by city standards. On the second try, I parked perfectly - only nerves had prevented that the first time. She said, in that sweet, reassuring way unique to the kindest of women, "See? Would never guess you're from the 'burbs!"

I wasn't sure the actual significance of the parking and car-finding snafu's, but I sure wished they hadn't happened.

We were still about 25 feet from the door when she started speaking nervously, muttering something like "Well, this is it." I wasn't sure if she was nervous because she was hoping I'd kiss her, or because she was hoping I wouldn't, or for some other reason. I stopped and hugged her, and she thanked me for dinner. I said "talk to you later." She nodded affirmatively, and said "Yeah. Have a safe trip home."

I became a bit anxious about the snafu's the next day or so, sporadically wondering what effect they would have. If not for those few minutes of a 3-hour date, I would have no doubt about seeing her again.

Worrying about mistakes is a mistake. Overall, I able to be myself, picking up where I left off with Autumn.

I had no choice but to move on quickly, because I had another date scheduled in less than 24 hours.

Mission Milestone Mania

2008-12-07T10:52:00.000-08:00

Friday night, I went back to SuperBar. I hadn't been in two weeks, after staying away for the first time in a month after catching a cold. I was somehow rusty, and suffered from both a little anxiety and that inner voice that creates hesitation and avoidance. To make matter worse, the music was unusually sub-par, and didn't keep people dancing. The result? No bumping, no grinding.

I thought about not returning Saturday. I figured I might be better off watching TV at home. Throughout the day, though, I felt myself beginning to warm up socially. While waiting at the car wash, I decided to initiate some smalltalk with the cashier. I asked if business slows down when they're expecting bad weather. Classic. He mentioned that his friend owns a car wash in the western part of the state, and I asked about the area to sustain the conversation until another customer came in.

I moved on to a restaurant, where I could hear the subtle playfulness return to my voice when I said "Thank you!" after being welcomed in.

Boring stuff. That's not what this post is about.

I thought about how some of the best nights of my entire life came after not feeling like going out, and then going to SuperBar anyway. So I went.
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I don't know if people read the Lab Notes, but to make a long story short, I wrote on 11/23/2008 about the doorman who I made a little smalltalk with every week, until one night he pulled me out of the massive line (where they intentionally make people wait) and let me right in the club.

Last night, he did the same. He gave me a handshake/chest-bump hug, and told me "I got you. Anytime, baby!" It was official.

Being able to skip the line at a hot nightclub in the city is an amazing thing. I knew it was going to be a good night.

Inside, I stood by the wall moving around a little to the music, waiting for things to pick up. Soon, a girl walked by me, and gave me a look.

One of the things that I started working on before the mission was eye contact. I try to never break eye contact with a woman who looks at me. It's a confident move.

We kept our eyes fixed on each other for seconds as she walked by, until she finally said "hey," causing me to break a smile.

She stood and danced in a circle with a big group of her friends. It was a very diverse group of mature and obviously intelligent people.

I marveled at them. I realized that if I were to have a group of friends, they would be exactly like that. As I stood by, I started to think that I needed to make something happen. Somehow, this had to become my group of friends.

I shifted my focus occasionally to the girl I'd had the little staring contest with. Well-dressed with stockings covering her sexy legs, she was attractive. I realized that girls check me out in similar fashion every night, and that it obviously means they're interested. If only I could figure out what to say!

I started strategizing, and decided to try something new. Instead of trying to think of what to say - which usually ends up being something like "Come here often?" - I planned to try what's worked on dates: saying and doing whatever I'm thinking and feeling.

It turned out that I wouldn't need the plan to meet the girl.
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Someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, and it was her.

"Are you having fun?"

I responded without thinking.

"Oh yeah. Always! How about you?"

"Yeah. If I give you my number, will you call me?"

I was taken by surprise. It was a first, and an amazing one: How often does a woman ever make such a bold first move, in a nightclub, of all places? How incredibly interested would she have to be? How great was I?

The situation provided an instantaneous confidence boost. With no conscious thought, my confident playfulness returned. Instead of merely saying something like "Yeah, sure," I said, "How about you tell me your name first?"

Bina.

She asked mine, and I gently placed my hand on her back and my ear to her mouth so I could hear her over the loud music. After letting her add her number to my phone, I commented on the size of her group of friends. I then asked if she had been to SuperBar before, and we were off to having a conversation.

Soon, she asked where I lived. Amazingly, she lived in the same, relatively small suburb. After that, she asked what I do. In the future, I'll probably start out joking that I'm either a thug or a hero (that second one might not be a joke soon), but I just told her: I'm a software engineer.

The dozens of women I've been dating have been very diverse. White, black, Asian, Mexican, Native American, Polish. 4'10, 6'1. Retail clerks, students, lawyers, a nurse, a nanny, a doctor. But no software engineers.

She was a software engineer!

There is only a handful of female software engineers, and none work at my company. The fact that one who lived in my suburb had just approached me with amorous intentions in a nightclub was astounding.

I joked that I didn't believe her, and we talked briefly about geeky computer stuff. We joked that it may not work out because she writes Java and I write C and C++. We were laughing, and I knew it was a connection.

Eventually, she said she'd let me enjoy myself, and I commented that it was difficult to talk in the club. I told her I'd talk to her later, and went back to dancing, as vibrantly as ever. It was the first time I'd ever gone out and gotten a woman's phone number for romantic reasons. The first real pickup: Another milestone. I later passed her on the dance floor, and saw that another guy had taken her hand, trying for a chance to talk to her. She smiled, but walked away from him until their hands pulled apart. He was rejected.

Despite the hookup, I was still going to dance with as many honeys as possible, trying only to avoid coming on to girls in her group. At midnight, I put my sunglasses on, and got to it.
___________________

As I made my away around the dance floor, I spotted one of the other regulars: a tall, very attractive girl with light red hair. She declined to dance with me during one of my very first outings to SuperBar, but on another night had smiled after making eye contact. I could tell she was a nice girl, though she very rarely danced with any of the many guys who approached her.

She was standing by the bar. With only a moment's thought, I followed my impulse to ask, "Having fun?" She shook her head no, and I asked why not. Her response was inaudible, so I gave up and asked another question. I asked if she was drinking, but only to make conversation, because I could see from the "X" marked on her hand that she was under 21. I said that I'd seen her at SuperBar several times, and that I come every Friday and Saturday. I joked that it was my home away from home.

I'd remembered her spending a lot of time talking to the muscle-bound bouncer one night, so I asked, "Where's your friend, the door man?" She tried to say something about him, but I couldn't make it out. She tried again, with the same result. For the fourth try, I said "Ok, one more time!" With a cute pout, she refused. I joked that she might as well try again, because she didn't have anything better to do!

I then moved on to asking a good question that I wished I'd asked Olivia: did she go to school? It was a topic I'd have plenty to say about, if she'd answered yes.

She pouted again, and said no. I figured out that the reason I couldn't understand her was not the music, but rather the fact that she had a strong German accent. I learned that she'd only been in the country five months; I never would have guessed. I asked if she worked, and she waved her hand to indicate "sorta." I joked, "every now and then?" She responded in kind, and her friend came over to say something.

And now, the idea. In the Lab Notes, I talked about a brilliant idea that I'd had to make a ton of new friends. I was sure that it was the greatest epiphany I'd ever had.

It's pretty easy to either talk to or dance with someone for a little while. All it takes it to simply demystify the person by initiating some interaction with them. After that, you see that they are, more often than not, friendly, and a lot like you.

What's not so easy is asking for a telephone number. There's just something about it. Women associate it with you wanting to date them, rather than wanting to be friends. With guys, it's just plain odd, unless you've hung out and talked for quite a long time.

The word in the next sentence is intentionally misspelled, so that people won't find this page when they google my brilliant idea.

Feycebook cards.

In the same shape and size of a business card, I made a Feycebook card with my name and network. After interacting with someone for a little while, I planned to simply hand them my card, and they could add me as a friend later. People love Feycebook, and since I'm such a fun person, they would be happy to add me. We'd already have an activity in common, so we could chat online later and hook up at a nightclub or somewhere else. It was absolutely brilliant.

When her friend finished talking, I asked, "Do you have facebook?" She said yes, and I pulled out one of my cards. I said, "Here: add me on facebook later and you can tell me what you were saying." She smiled, and I immediately headed back to the dance floor. I didn't know for sure how anyone would react to the unique and odd concept of me handing out personal cards at the club, so the hit and run paradigm served to ease my nerves.

Eventually, I found a cute, slim girl on the dance floor, and decided not to try to grind with her. I danced behind her with minimal contact. After moving around a bit, I discovered that she was lots of fun. She danced with me, and I started putting on a bit of a show on the now-sparse dance floor. She laughed and smiled, trying to mimick my apparently-awesome improvised dance moves. I put my hands around her waist on occasion, and she commented on how hot it was as I tried to fend off the sweat that was overcoming me.

After 20 minutes or so, her friend came over to speak to her. She then told me that she had to leave because she was riding the metro. It was virtually identical to the situation (also in the Lab Notes) that had given me the idea to make the Feycebook cards.

Does it make sense to forever lose contact with someone you like just because of the time?

Hell, no. I said, "Here, take this" as she started to walk away, and handed her a card. She glanced at it, smiled, and waved.
___________________

How would people react to the crazy card concept? Just looking around at strangers, handing out cards had at moments seemed like an embarrassing thing to do. That anxiety simply vanished after establishing a little bit of friendly interaction with a person. It all made so much sense...

By the time I woke up this afternoon, the girl from Germany, Balda, had already added me to her list of friends.

P.S. I'm going to stop blogging now so that I can get dressed for my first of three dates this week. In the very beginning, I wrote that my plan was to "overbook" myself with as many social activities as possible. I've finally reached that point, having 8-10 women who I'm ready to go out with, but only 7 days in a week. This evening, I'm trying something different: a dinner first-date instead of Starbucks. There's plenty of room for experimentation.

Pieces of a Dream

2008-11-30T14:38:00.000-08:00

As I sat down to update the blog this evening, I realized that tomorrow's date is December 1. At some point along the way, I had January 1, 2009 in mind for the day that I would declare mission accomplished, putting an end to all of this. My dream was to celebrate New Year's surrounded by friends, kissing my girlfriend at midnight.

The fact of the matter is that we're not quite there yet. As evidenced in the lab notes, I have no girlfriend with whom to ring in the new year. The good news, though, is that I could. In the latter part of this year, I came closer than ever before. I gained the ability to be myself around others, even when there was mutual romantic interest. Now, the only missing piece is to find the right person for me.

As for friendships: I've made progress on that front as well. On November 12, my favorite basketball team was in town for a game. I'd attended the past few years with my family, with whom I was able to shout, cheer, and taunt opposing fans - even in my pre-mission days. Finally, I had a chance to go to the game with friends, which, thanks to the mission, I now had.

Of course, I invited Amorita, who has become a very close friend in the last 15 months. I asked if she wanted to bring anyone, and she invited her friend Jannette, who I'd met and joked around with at Amorita's birthday parties.

I also sent a text message inviting Neola, the girl I met at a nightclub when I followed my impulse to speak to her. We'd hung out together once since then, and had a fun time. She accepted the invitation, and we met up in the city for the game.

It took me a few minutes to warm up, but I was soon back to effortlessly being myself with Neola. I could sense the change from being somewhat mechanical to being relaxed. When she asked if I liked a song that was playing in the arena, I could feel my mind shift from a mode of trying to come up with conversation topics to one of merely following impulses, saying and doing whatever I felt. It's a subtlety that's not easily described in words, but one that everyone who overcomes shyness will experience and understand.

After walking around for a while, we met up with Amorita and Jannette. The meeting represented an interesting personal milestone for me: it would be the first time in my entire 25-year life that I would introduce one of my friends to another. It would be the first time that I would be hanging out with multiple friends.

Using the plural form of that word is a glorious thing for me.

I hugged Jannette, and pointed out that the three had actually all been at the same club a few months ago, where Amorita held her birthday party. They talked briefly, and we found our seats for the game.

I was happy, and having a lot of fun. I sat next to Neola, and we talked throughout the game. She presumably wasn't a big basketball fan, so we chatted about things like her new job, music, nightclubs, and her boyfriend. I remembered how talkative she was, and how much I liked her. Amorita sat on my other side and hung out with Jannette most of the time (they disappeared for about a quarter and a half), so I was glad Amorita had brought someone instead of me inviting 3 people who would have been meeting for the first time. I was as uninhibited as ever, perfectly able to shout, cheer, and taunt in the presence of my three friends.

My team lost the game, but it was still one of the best nights of my life. After the loss, I still had so much enthusiasm that I started doing a little dancing to the music as I stood with Neola at the door waiting for the others. I walked the three ladies to the train station, and said goodnight.
___________________

I've also gotten back into the dating game. I went on my 41st date with a girl I'd been talking to on eHarmony. She'd written an unusually large amount in her e-mails, but there had yet to be a real connection. When I first saw her at Starbucks, I knew that I didn't have enough physical attraction to her. From that moment on, I pretty much blew it. It was one of the ebbs in the ebb-and-flow of the mission, as I started thinking about the fact that I wasn't interested instead of staying present. She did an astounding percentage of the talking, which only served to exacerbate the situation, making it easier for me to yield to internal thoughts instead of participating actively. As a result, I wasn't myself.

We stayed an hour and a half, until the coffee shop closed down. The evening underscored the importance of staying present, which I could never stress enough. It demonstrated again that I generally need to have real interest in someone in order for a date to go well; knowing that I'll never see someone again decreases my motivation profusely. Finally, date #41 was a reminder to never sweat these things, because it really doesn't take much when someone is interested in you. Even though I did little more than smile and nod, my date was still obviously enthusiastic about being with me ,up through the very end, when she said she'd talk to me soon.
___________________

And so, I'm moving forward, looking for that elusive connection and mutual attraction.

Actually, I don't expect it to be all that elusive. That last date was only the second person I'd met up with since having a breakthrough in being myself with Autumn. Being uninhibited on dates is still relatively uncharted territory for me. I expect to have enormous success with it, since it's honestly hard to imagine a woman not being interested after seeing the real me. I'm fantastic!

I am now communicating with exactly 8 interested women - all from eHarmony. Since turning 25, I've gotten tons of great matches, and have had had a near-100% response rate from women I've initiated communication with. I haven't changed a single word in my profile; it's just that eHarmony has a lot of women who are 26 and older, and most of them have chosen to only be matched with guys who are 25 and up.

After I get over this pesky cold, I plan to start dating them. Having so many options - an absurd number, perhaps - has already started to take the edge off, putting me at ease. I talked on the phone with a girl named Chante, in one of the rare instances - twice in 15 months - that someone asked to talk instead of e-mail. I was my now-usual relaxed, confident, funny self. Even when there was a silent lull in the conversation, I was unphased. She asked if I was a phone person, and if I was a quiet. I told her no, I'm definitely not a phone person, but I'm not a quiet person, either - just the opposite!

I've always felt as if phone conversations were the most difficult situation, so I'm now completely sure that I will continue to be just as relaxed once we're together in the flesh.

With 8 prospects (I could have more, but I turned off eHarmony matching to keep it reasonable), things are pretty exciting. I'm under no pressure at all, and know that I can simply laugh off any date that doesn't go well - if that even happens. I'm also inclined to do a little experimenting since I have nothing to lose, and since I may ultimately need to trim the field down to just a few girls.
___________________

For all this online dating, though, I'm starting to feel as if I want to find my match elsewhere. It has served me well for my initial purposes, but online dating poses some complications that have been problematic in many cases already. First and foremost, it inherently provides too much competition. No matter how crazy about me a girl I meet on eHarmony is, the simple fact of the matter is that the mystical matching system is going to continue to present her with other options via e-mail, not to mention that she'll want to get her money's worth out of her membership. Not only that, but the women I meet through that medium are usually in the mindset of dating, as in going out with multiple people, and seeing what's out there.

The alternative, of course, would be to meet someone offline. In that case, I will have to actually leave the house in order to land the initial Starbucks date, but the aforementioned problems will be either reduced or eliminated. I also won't have to deal with things like not being interested in the girl after seeing her, since an in-person screening will have already been done. I've never moved backwards, becoming inhibited with someone after being myself with them, so there should also be no more inhibition ebbs.

Obviously, the mission could never be complete without me being able to do something as simple as get a date without using the Internet. I don't have any specific plans yet, but my thought is that all it will take is a little daring, and winning in return.

I do, however, have some specific plans for making more friends offline. I have what I believe is an amazingly brilliant plan to make a bunch of good friends that I'll be able to hang out with. You'll never guess what it is, so there's no need to try. It's pretty ingenious, and I will share as soon as I try it as see a few results.

He Who Dares Wins

2008-11-16T15:09:00.000-08:00

11/25: New in Daily Thoughts and Other Ramblings: what happened with Autumn, and a fun night at SuperBar

After my third date with Autumn, my future with her looked so incredibly bright that I immediately stopped pursuing other women. Perhaps I was jinxed with this comment:

I assume there will be no more dates or bumping and grinding in the clubs, but onto new things I guess!

I added to the jinx myself by ending communication with a very attractive woman I had been e-mailing after we were matched on eHarmony. I told her that I had hung out with someone else a few times and it had been "pretty much magical," and she wished me luck in my new "relationship."

Ha.

I haven't seen Autumn since. After a few anxious days spent wondering about her, I finally started to feel like myself again, and became excited about taking a trip during my vacation from work. I didn't have anyone to go with - and I generally hate doing things by myself - so I decided that my plan would have to revolve around interacting with new people.

I decided to go to Miami, almost entirely to dance with the beautiful women in its nightclubs.
_________________

Back home, I had make one key observation repeatedly while at nightclubs. While I had great difficulty in getting women to dance with me, there were always guys who easily danced with many women. What was the difference between them and I?

It was confidence.

I was always tentative when approaching a woman. Through my now-vast experience and research, I've come to understand one of the root causes of my reluctance in this particular situation. Simply put, I was afraid of offending, or even somehow bothering a woman by trying to dance with her.

Sure: it's perfectly logical to assume that some women will be offended or bothered by a guy's attempt to dance with them. I'm a nice guy, and I don't want to bother anyone. On the other hand, being tentative and unsure of myself is, as a matter of nature, unattractive to women. This dilemma is precisely the reason the phrase nice guys finish last was coined.

The confident, successful guys operated completely differently. They would spot a woman and, without hesitation, boldly walk up and start dancing with her. If their advance was rejected, they would immediately move on and look for another attractive woman, repeating the process without being phased.

As a nice guy, I operated much more slowly. I'd often find a woman I wanted to dance with, and then take a spot on the floor nearby, dancing alone while ruminating over the situation. While trying to figure out whether she wanted to dance with me, my mind ran rampant with excuses and reasons not to approach her. As aware of these types of things as I obviously am, I repeatedly fell victim to an inner voice of shyness, which produced nonsensical problems.

"She won't want to dance - she's just having fun with her friends."
"I shouldn't dance with her, because I was standing in line outside with her."
"She looks too nice - she probably doesn't dance with guys."
"She saw me dancing with another girl."
"Another guy tried to dance with her and she rejected him."
"She has a drink, so she's probably with someone."

At some point, I devised a nice-guy plan to try to dance with women I was interested in without offending them. I would simply hold out my hand, and they would take it if they were interested. At the time, I thought it was brilliant! I could approach women without worrying about offending them.

Of course, that rarely worked. It was not a confident thing to do, and consequentially was, without a doubt, a turnoff for many of the women. The variation used by the confident guys was to take a woman's hand aggressively.

Aggressively pursuing physical contact with a beautiful girl on the dance floor was a daring thing to do, but it was obvious that it produced amazing results for the guys who weren't worried about being nice. I understood that in the wonderfully fun game of pursuing women, he who dares wins. I decided to give it a try in Miami, where I'd be almost 1000 miles away from home, surrounded by people who I'd almost surely never see again.
_________________

My first night was slow. It was a Thursday, so the club was relatively sparse. I "camped out" next to a couple of girls I wanted to dance with, and my inner voice started shouting thoughts like "Now it's too late, because I've been dancing near them too long." Many people were in groups with both guys and girls, which was too much of a mental obstacle for me to overcome.

Friday was better. I went through my normal warm-up routine, dancing alone or near a group while waiting for the club to become more crowded so that I wouldn't stand out as much. Eventually, I spotted an easy situation - a guy dancing with a girl, while her friend was alone - and I moved without thinking to play wingman and dance with the friend. Finally, I had achieved my first bump-and-grind action in Miami.

Now, I really started to loosen up. I'd gotten a confidence boost, and my inner voice became quieter. I spotted another girl who seemed to be having an off-the-wall fun time, and there weren't many excuses for my inner voice to generate. Again, I danced with her, and became even more confident. Still, though, I wasn't completely uninhibited. While waiting in line to get in, I had talked for a couple minutes with a pair of girls from Tennessee. I saw a perfect opportunity to dance with one of them, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Somehow the fact that I had talked to her was a powerful deterrent. It was ridiculous.

I moved on to another club, where a concert was being held. There were five or six girls in front of the stage, but everyone else in the packed building was sitting or standing well away from the performers. Here, I remembered that I was in Miami, and decided to just have fun. I danced in front of the stage, with an audience of hundreds behind me as I sang along and jumped around to the music. I was having a blast. Afterwards, the lead singer found me on the dance floor, shook my hand, and thanked me.

The added confidence quieted my inner voice of shyness even further. Now, with little hesitation, I moved in to dance with an attractive blonde girl, and was successful. I then found another group of girls, and noticed a new silence in my mind. The excuses and deterrent thoughts ceased, and I boldly moved to dance with the most attractive one - a sensual, tall, lean-bodied black girl with a delightful perfume scent. She was all over me.

After 3 clubs in 2 nights, the progress was clear. The next night, I went to Florida's super club, Club Space. I set forth one clear goal: bump and grind with 10 different attractive women (or as I like to call them, honeys)! Either that, or kiss just one of them. It was my way of getting over Autumn, and it was a fun little mini-mission.

It took a while for me to warm up, and my first few attempts were unsuccessful. I started thinking that maybe the women at this particular club were uptight, and that I should leave. Finally, though, I jumped into the 1-guy-with-2-girls situation, and things got moving. I became less and less restrained by avoidant thoughts as the night went on. When there was a lull in the action, I told myself that I needed to at least go offend some people! I had experienced the amazing results of being the confident guy, so I no longer wanted to be the nice guy.

After a few hours, I had done the very fun bump-and-grind with 7 pretty girls. As I searched the upstairs, indoor dance floor, I found that the most attractive girl was now alone, while her friend was dancing with a guy. Had she come with a boyfriend, who had only left her temporarily? Could I really dance with a girl who was this gorgeous?

This time, I didn't actually have those thoughts. I danced my way over until I was a couple inches away from her. She stopped momentarily, and looked back at me. At first, I thought it was rejection, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't care whether she would get upset because I tried to dance with her twice, so I moved up to her again to be sure.

I looked down at her seductively, and she started bumping and grinding with me. Oh, so fun! Unlike most of the others, she stayed with me. We were all over each other, and after a while, I started to periodically kiss her shoulders as I caressed her body. She stopped for a moment, and pulled her long, black hair behind her head. Intentionally or not, she was giving my lips the green light to reach her face. I moved my way up to kissing her neck, ear, and cheek. If she had ever turned around far enough, I would have gone for her lips.

She was with two friends. One of them was was dancing with another guy, facing us. Sandwiched between our two couples was her second friend, who was less attractive, and without a dance partner. Every now and then, my partner stopped to talk to her manless friend, keeping her entertained. When she did, I kept my hand on her back, signaling to the rest of the club that she was mine. She high-fived her friend, and it was obvious that they were celebrating the fact that she was scoring - with me! When she took a break to sit down for a few minutes before returning to me, she high-fived her other friend as well. She was one of the hottest girls in the club, and I had made her night. I lost track of time, but I know we were together over an hour.

If I hadn't made the bold move to risk offending her, there would have been nothing.

He who dares wins.
_________________

One thing to always keep in mind is that this whole daring thing is a mental muscle that gets stronger and stronger the more we exercise it. I love doing this clubbing thing, but I had extra motivation to go out again when I returned home. It would be a test to see how much I'd improved.

I went out Friday and Saturday nights, and approaching women became easier and easier. I reached the point of smoothly dancing up right behind each girl, having very few or no deterrent thoughts at all. Amazingly, they responded positively more often than not! Finally, I had achieved a positive cycle. I was confident, so I had more success. I had success, so I became more confident.

At this point, there's no stopping me. After seeing that the majority of women are attracted to me, when someone responds negatively, I know that it's them and not me, so I immediately move on without being phased. That's true confidence. I can't wait to experience it in other social situations.

Dating Direction

2008-10-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

Since the last post, I haven't been on any other dates, but there has been a lot of activity in my mind about the subject. My response to Ashlley's comment is a bit long, so here we are again, back in the main blog.

Ashlley Elias said...

Mr. Super Duper Neat-O,

I love your blog. Been reading for a bit... this is about the post you recently deleted about not having heard from Autumn in a bit and feeling anxious.

I'm 30, have had many relationships and STILL get that feeling.

Just wanted to say it's not a social anxiety thing, it's a love thing.

That being said I find if I have more than one girl I'm interested in this never becomes an issue.

I am a one-woman man myself, which you also seem... so even if it feels right to stick to one, it might not be best in the long-run.

Even if you're in a relationship you need to keep up attraction and options.

My 2cents.

Ashlley, wow - talk about hitting the nail on the head! Over the last two days, I started coming to the exact same conclusion, which I now feel a lot more comfortable with, thanks to you.

For those who didn't catch it, I wrote and deleted a post entitled Autumn Uncertainty. I hadn't heard from Autumn in over two weeks, and frankly, I was worried. Worried, anxious, depressed...the whole nine yards. These feelings were so strong that they were starting to practically ruin day after day of my life. I was doing a terrible job of dealing with the uncertainty, ceaselessly ruminating over the possibilities of what could have gone wrong. I considered every little thing, from the quality of my goodnight kiss, to the possibility of her having stumbled upon the blog. I was terrified of the prospect of never finding out what had actually happened, but Tuesday, she finally called.

She implied that she hadn't replaced her cell phone since breaking it a few days before our last date, and had finally borrowed one from a friend. I had called her 3 times, but apparently she couldn't have received any of the calls.

We chatted for about 8 minutes, until she said she was going to bed, if I didn't mind. I said goodnight, but she added,

"After my parents come and go [they were coming to visit], we should go out again."
I simply said "Alright."
She then asked, "Is that a yes? Or is that 'no, I'm brushing you off'?"

I reaffirmed that I wanted to go out, and asked when her parents would be leaving.

Finally, I had some peace.

At least, for a little while.

Today, something else started to bother me. It's come up before, but I haven't mentioned it in the blog. I noticed on eHarmony that she had closed our match, and my mind immediately started swirling, trying to figure out why. My first thought was that maybe she didn't want me to be able to view her profile anymore, where I could see if she changed it for the reason of pursuing other men on the site.

I couldn't stand the thought! The night after our first date, I noticed that she had updated her profile. Even that worried me a little, but I was able to let it go because I knew that she didn't even know whether or not I was interested yet. Then, when the psychic made references to Autumn's "current relationship" on our second date, Autumn pointed out that she was dating other people as well in order to explain to the psychic that she wasn't really in a relationship. This bothered me even more, but I managed to rationalize that other guys might not be getting past the Starbucks date with her. After our third date, I just couldn't stand the thought of anyone else getting physical with her the way I did. I understood that she would at least be curious to see who else she could meet - even after finding me, who she liked - but if so, I really didn't want to see or hear anything that would make me think about it.

It's tough, but these are the kinds of things that go on in my mind.

By tonight, I realized that this is all just too much. I've tried to contact Autumn every week since I've met her, but now she's made it at least another 3 weeks between dates. I simply cannot place so much importance on my budding relationship with her. Between worrying about seeing her and worrying about her seeing other people, I'd lose my mind at this rate.

This is how I came to the conclusion that Ashlley suggested. The solution is simple: I have to pursue and date other people. I very well may be with Autumn forever, but until we become exclusive with a Facebook-official relationship status, I'm going to do my best to make sure I have a date with someone I like every single week. I had even stopped accepting new matches on eHarmony, so this represents a major change in the direction of the mission. Meeting a new round of people will be a great opportunity for me to continue moving far away from my inhibited days, further improving and stabilizing the skills I've developed over the past 15 months. It will also give me the opportunity to experience dating other people without inhibition. This way, I will have a comparison so that if Autumn does end up being the one, I will never have to wonder.

P.S. I've just started updating the daily Lab Notes entry again. I noticed that some of the themes from this post are already showing up there. I'll try to stick to writing there regularly now - it should help.

Date #40: Autumn Emotion

2008-10-11T22:19:00.001-07:00

Tonight, I finally saw Autumn again. I had been feeling a little bummed out the last 24 hours. First, there was an embarrassing little social incident at work that made me realize how far behind I am in that domain compared to everywhere else I've improved. Then, I had a so-so night at SuperBar. Those two things - fodder for the Lab Notes, when I have some spare time - resulted in me feeling tired and anxious before the date. Still, though, I knew after my first two dates with Autumn that I just couldn't be uncomfortable or inhibited with her.

This time, she asked me to come up to the door of her apartment unit to pick her up. We hadn't planned what to do for our date, but I suggested we go to a local restaurant/games place (think "adult Chuck-E-Cheese").

At first, I felt a little inhibited and jittery. I didn't panic, though. I understood that I hadn't seen Autumn in a full three weeks, so I just needed time to warm up. And warm up, I did. Before I knew it, I was once again easily chatting with her, without needing to search my mind for topics of conversation.

It's hard to remember what we were talking about, because it was all so fluent and natural, which is the norm for us. At times, we aren't really talking about anything. Among the people who have gotten to see the real me, I'm known for my constant kidding around; with Autumn, I've met my match. She makes me understand what I put my family and friends through. For example, when I mentioned the "cold steam" blasts at SuperBar, she debated me about it, saying that steam can't be cold and that I was really talking about "mist." There were several times when I had to force a change in subject, because she's content to keep playfully arguing or joking about the same thing just as long as I am!

In our last text message exchange, I had told Autumn not to worry that she had to break our previously planned date. Her response? ":)thanks babe." A term of endearment.

After only a few minutes with her in person, she started showing other signs of the way she felt about me as well. In fact, during the course of the date, she showed every sign.

The first was talking about our future. When I told her that I like fishing, but that none of my friends are really into it, she said "...we could go fishing." Soon after that, she was telling me about a drag racing venue, and asked if I wanted to do it with her. Later, when we passed a booth in the mall selling 3D images enshrined in acrylic, she joked that she should buy me one with her picture for Christmas. On the way home, I recalled something minor she told me on our first date, and she was impressed by my memory. She said that she'd better be careful, or else I might remember something she said 30 years later and throw it back in her face.

30 years later? Whoa.

The second sign? Touching me. Several times after I made a joke, she lightly touched my arm as she laughed. She also complimented me subtly, saying that she thought the dorky facial expressions and other aspects of my persona were cute.

The fourth sign was the biggest of all. She showed genuine curiosity about me, asking probing questions and spending time analyzing in effort to figure out aspects of my personality. For example, the latter part of the drive back to her place was spent discussing why I've never tried alcohol. When I momentarily took my eyes off the road to glance at my passenger, I saw that Autumn's face was lit up. She was both happy and fascinated.

Soon after we got in the mall, I was back to being my complete, zany, uninhibited self. I addressed all of the employees by the names on their name tags, and spoke to them in a confident, fun tone.

While we walked around deciding which games to play, I spotted an Iraq war veteran that I had once seen at my barber shop. His right arm was his only remaining limb. I excitedly asked, "Hey, how ya doin man?", and said that I had seen him at the shop. It ended up being a little awkward, because he didn't really recognize me (although his wife did), and I could sense that Autumn was taken aback by the sight of a man who had lost so much. She didn't comment on the exchange, and after a few minutes, we were back to normal.

As we played, I could tell that my date was having fun. She smiled and laughed, and whenever I heard her goofy signature snort, I knew things were going well. On the other end of things, I was loosening up more and more. With the music playing, I started to feel like doing some dancing. I started to bop around a little, but all-out dancing would have been completely out of place. Instead, I told Autumn what I was feeling. Just like last time, I shared my thoughts with her, instead of keeping them as secret processes in my mind.

I'm usually woefully bad at telling stories, and before the date, I even lamented the possibility of failing miserably while trying to do so with Autumn. Amazingly, though, I easily and smoothly (though excitedly) told her a story about work in a way that made her laugh. After that, I told a few more: suddenly, technique wasn't the issue. There was no issue, as long as I was with Autumn.

When neither of us could remember the name of the band that sang a song we both liked, I asked the waitress what kind of music she liked, and then just asked the question. When she finally figured it out for us, I gave her a high-five. Throughout the evening, I became so loose that I thought maybe I should speak less.

In general, things were fantastic. There were only a few things that bothered me. First, when Autumn fought me off to pay for the games with her credit card, I made a joke out of it (as I did with so many things), saying that she was messing up my gender role identity. She then asked if I preferred to pay, and I couldn't help but be honest with her, and said yes. Half-kidding, I added that I wasn't offended though, and wouldn't hold it against her. I'm not sure why, but at the time, I wondered if I should have handled it differently. Then, I simply forgot to help her take off her coat after pulling out her chair at the dinner table. Along with the awkward exchange with the veteran, these nuances distracted me a little. The point, as far as we're concerned here, is that I should have - of course - stayed present. I regained my composure, and for the most part, did so for the remainder of the evening.

By the end of our time at the mall, it was obvious that Autumn was, quite simply, fantastic. I'd never had such ease in talking to or having fun with anyone. I'd never been with anyone who was so much like me in so many ways - some defining, some minuscule. And I'd never been with anyone so selfless. She genuinely wanted to split the costs of dating, trying to insist on paying for dinner, too, for the second date in a row. She was always concerned with even the smallest things about me, like wanting to pick a prize I liked, or making sure she wasn't hurting my feelings by explaining why she thinks I'm dorky (somehow, she can see that through my cool exterior). She said she hadn't paid attention to where we'd parked, because she was too busy paying attention to me.

As we waited in line to redeem our tickets for prizes, it finally hit me. I looked at Autumn as we stood together, and my sight shifted almost involuntarily from one point on her face to another. There was something about her eyes. They were so soft and innocent that I can only describe them as angelic. She looked so beautiful that, for a moment, I was at a loss for what to even think. And then, I had the thought: "I'm going to marry this girl if I can." It's a thought that has comically appeared in this blog a couple times before, but this is different. It's different because I can handle it - I'm at my best with Autumn, no matter what I'm feeling. It's different because I have such a remarkable connection with her, instead of none at all. Spending time with her has shown me what I've been missing with all the other women who have transiently passed in and out of my life. Autumn is a game changer: I can't imagine how anyone is going to compare if she doesn't end up being the one.

When we got outside, for a while I couldn't manage to find my car in the massive parking lot. It could have been embarrassing, except that with Autumn, I was able to make fun of the situation instead. She joked that there "might not be a next time" because of it, but I was comfortable knowing it was just that - a joke.

I walked Autumn to her apartment unit door. She said "I'll see ya again soon, I'm sure." I didn't need the reassurance, but it was good to hear nonetheless. This time, she really was going for a hug, leaving the rest to me.

With my hand on her waist, I kissed the beautiful, sweet-hearted girl named Autumn who had captured my heart. It was incredibly soft and incredibly sweet. This time, our lips remained together as the kiss lingered in time.

I told her to have a good night, and she told me to enjoy my lip gloss. As I walked to my car, I noticed that the anxious feelings I'd had before the date had been completely replaced. Now, I was abound by emotions of joy, satisfaction, and optimism.

Oh, yeah. And possibly love, too.

Exceeding the Ordinary

2008-10-08T17:01:00.000-07:00

Inhibition is the enemy. It's the enemy of us all, and it's the enemy that I've dedicated my life to defeating for over a year. I have made incredible gains against it, and have no intention of letting up. Deciding to kick the beast while it was down, I went back to SuperBar Saturday for the second straight week.
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This time, I was even more relaxed from the start. I took my place in line behind a group of three guys, and one of them acknowledged me. I said, instinctively, "Hey, what's up man?" For a while, I didn't say much of anything, but stood by as if I were a part of the group, listening to the conversation and smiling at things that were humorous. When one of the guys was telling a story, he included me as he shifted his eye contact between audience members. Before long, one of the guys asked me how I knew the other two guys. I had assumed rapport so effectively that he thought I was a friend in his group.

Once inside, I took my time to walk around and explore. The dance floor was relatively sparse that early, so I decided to wait until other couples started dancing before I began my search for a willing partner.

I spotted one of the guys I talked to my first time at SuperBar. I had never gotten his name, but I remembered that he worked there, and his goal in life was to marry the beautiful blonde bartender he had recently met. I walked over, said, "Hey, what's up man?", and shook his hand. I asked him if he had proposed to the girl yet, and we joked around for a couple of minutes over the loud music. I found out his name - Bart - and told him mine. Then I said that I was going to make a pass down the dance floor, and moved on.

Upstairs, I found the group I had come in with. I couldn't hear the conversation over the loud music, so I waited until there was a lull and asked one of the guys if he was going to find some girls. He said he was "just chilling," so I put on my sunglasses, headed back downstairs, and got to work.
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This time, I was already warm.

I danced without inhibition, and found people to talk to. When I spotted a beautiful blonde-haired girl I had noticed outside, I went over and spoke to one of her less-attractive friends.

"What's going on?"

She turned towards me for a moment, then turned away.

Nice.

Unphased, I moved on. I saw a couple of girls I had spoken to briefly in line, and spoke to one of them. She said something that sounded like, "It's the guy from the box," but I couldn't really make out the words over the music. I said, "I can't hear what you're saying, but YEAH!!!"
She laughed, and talked with her friend. By now it was pretty crowded, so I was close behind her friend as I danced nearby. I noticed (observation) that her hair smelled good, and asked (following my impulse), "Garnier Fructise?" They asked what I was talking about, and I repeated.

"Garnier Fructise. I was asking if you use Garnier Fructise because your hair smells good."

One of them laughed, and asked how I even knew about that. I ran my hands across my close haircut and joked, "I gotta take care of this!"

I moved on, and found other people to play with.

Or at least, I tried.

Earlier, I had noticed a group of 3 Asian girls dancing together. The tallest one had occasionally danced with a guy who came over, while the other two seemed uptight. I remembered from last week not to judge by appearance, so I experimented by offering my hand to dance with one of the short ones.

Nothing doing. She was as uptight as she looked.

I offered my hand to the taller, fun-looking one just the same. She took it, and we danced briefly, but she didn't seem very into it. Once we stopped, I spoke to her, in a friendly tone.

"What's up with your friends?"
"What?"
"What's up with your friends? They're not dancing with any guys."
"Oh, we're just enjoying the night."
"Haven't I seen you at Transit, the other nightclub?"

I hadn't, but at least I was making conversation. It didn't go much further, so I moved on.
Now, one of the guys from the group I had come in with had decided to get in the game. We collaborated, and I told him I'd back him up. Once again, I had made a new friend at the club, with virtually no effort.

We made a pass along the floor, found a group of girls, and went over to dance with them. As he apparently-not-so-smooth-talked one of them, I took her friend's hand to dance. She played along briefly, but didn't appear to be into it. We moved on.

He found a girl to chat with at the bar, and I eventually spoke to one of her friends. I asked if she was dancing, and she said no. I told her if she's shy, I would help her. She said, "Oh, trust me, I'm not shy." I sarcastically said "suuuuure" and moved on, leaving my nameless friend to strike out alone.

No one had been very responsive, but I was more uninhibited than ever. I had free reign to do whatever I wanted.

Back upstairs on the Latin music floor, I continued to test my luck. One girl accepted my hand to dance, but we bumped knees and heads. I said, "I'm more of a hip-hop dancer, so if I bump you, my bad." She didn't seem very interested from the start, so, as usual, I moved on.

When a a guy came and two of his female friends chained together with him to form a little dance train, I immediately ran up and put my hands on the last girl's waist to join the train. After we stopped, she took my hands to attempt some Latin dance with me. I attempted to twist her around and even dip her at the end of the song, but of course, I was terrible. I joked with her that we should go on Dancing with the Stars. My random appearance must have been pretty entertaining, because one of her friends took pictures of us.

As I headed back downstairs, I found two more girls dancing together. They were fairly stiff. I danced up to them, and I noticed a very slight physical withdrawal from both of them. These people were downright defensive, but why?

As you can see, they weren't even all that attractive. By now, I was feeling just plain silly, so I decided to mess with them. I said that I was trying to learn some moves from them, because they "dance so well." In reality, they were super stiff. They weren't amused by my comment, so I decided to continue my schtick. I imitated the one on the right, following her every motion. When she scratched her arm, I scratched mine. Finally, the stiff in the blue said "We're good," so I left them alone and went downstairs to find someone else to play with.

I was surprised by how uptight or unresponsive most of the women were. At one point, I was only dancing near a girl, and she shook her head negatively and moved away. I couldn't have cared less about her. What a self-centered wench.

About every other time I've gone out to a club, I've had a bad night. This was that night, but I realized that now, even the bad nights were good.

I was having fun. I danced, shouted, and spoke to all manner of people. I gave a fist-bump to the Garnier Fructis girl when I saw her again. I found a hotty to bump-and-grind with, although I scared her off by accidentally (I think) letting my hand slip to the wrong region of her body too soon. I even approached the most beautiful wallflower in the building, and attempted a conversation. I thought about being smooth, but then decided it was more fun to be silly. I intentionally attempted a rather corny pickup.

"You're not dancing?"
"No..."
"How are you gonna come to a dance club and not dance!"
"...."
"Oh, I see. You're dressed too nicely to dance. Were you coming to a dance club, or to a beauty pageant!"
(laughing) "A beauty pageant."
"Where'd you buy your outfit?"
"It came separately."
"How'd you put it together? I know you didn't buy it at Wal-Mart?"
(laughing) no
"Are you drinking?"
"...no, not right now."
"You should go downstairs and chill out. It's nice - they have seats and stuff. Have you been?"
"No. Downstairs?"
"Yeah. Wanna go?"
"....not right now."

I knew early on (obviously) that she wasn't being responsive, but I was just playing around. Talking to her was as easy as lifting a feather, but it was actually one of my first pickup attempts - if you want to call it that.
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The next day, I finally figured out why people seemed so less friendly than they had the other weeks. This time, I had interacted with more people than I could even hope to remember. The difference was that before, I had been much more passive. By initiating countless interactions, I uncovered all of the boring people who were there all along.

Finally, I realized something beautiful. Even the average person is too restrained by inhibition to approach as many people as I did that night. By being rejected over and over and over, and over and over again, I was facing the normal person's fear. The worst was happening, and guess what? It wasn't bad at all.

I have now exceeded the ordinary.

The Transition: A Glimpse Into My World

2008-09-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-22T17:24:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-22T17:12:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-14T20:35:00.001-07:00

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

2008-09-09T16:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

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.
_____________

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

2008-09-04T20:28:00.000-07:00

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.
_______

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"

Doing The Impossible: First Pickup

2008-08-24T11:55:00.000-07:00

In the lonely years before this blog, I had one simple question. How do people meet other people? Since beginning my mission, I've come up with a few solutions. Meeting people online, joining clubs, and now meeting friends of friends have all been helpful. Last night, though, I finally discovered the single, absolute answer to my question.
____

I went to a small nightclub to celebrate Amorita's birthday, for the second week in a row. I invited Cathy, but she couldn't make it. When I found my friend on the dance floor, she introduced me to a few of her other friends. I only managed to ask a couple of questions about the environment until I got to speak to someone alone. I introduced myself to one of the boyfriends, then asked if he'd been to the club before. I followed up with some questions about where he'd driven in from, which led to other stuff like our jobs and traffic. When there were pauses in the conversation, I thought of new questions or comments, but it was all pretty natural this time. Topics were coming to mind from my interactions last week, and it was making a difference. Practice makes perfect.

I was warming up. As far as I can tell, I have slain the beast of inhibition, and it now just takes me a little while to loosen up in a new environment.

I walked over to our table, where some other people with our party were sitting. I introduced myself to one girl, but she said we'd already met last week. Really? I didn't remember it at all.
From this point, I decided that if I wasn't sure if I had already met someone, I would just assume that I already had. It was the perfect opportunity to practice assumed rapport, the key principle I observed last week.

I was feeling good. The girl Liz who I spent so much time playing with last week was there, but this time, she had brought her fiance. When I saw him, I immediately smiled at them and introduced myself. She had told me a lot about him - and that's exactly what I told him. I knew he was a soccer fanatic, so I asked him all about it, and he seemed happy to talk about it. I stood around the table chatting with him and the first guy I'd talked to earlier, and....you guessed it! I was myself. Conversation, lighthearted humor...it was all coming easily. I didn't have any fancy conversation topics from the blog in mind. Instead, I just started out asking obvious questions, like whether they'd been to any other clubs in the area. The conversation skills I've developed in the past year were serving me well, and I realized it was one of the few times I've gotten to play with other males during the mission.

That was awesome, but for whatever reason, I have an easier time cutting loose and playing with women.

Back on the dance floor, I danced with a group of hot Asian girls. They were dancing with each other, but unlike one of the times I went out alone, I didn't feel intimidated. I interacted with them, winking at the cutest one, shouting "you go girl!", and stuff like that.

I was the only one in the club wearing sunglasses, so I figured I stood out. I spotted a tall, slim, attractive, fair-skinned girl with dark hair on the dance floor, and when she saw me, I heard her say "look at this guy!" She came over to me, and took my hands. We only danced for a moment, and then she backed away a bit, and seemed to be trying to show me the correct motions. We starting dancing again, and she turned her back to me and moved her body into mine. It was sexy, but after a couple of moments, her friends interrupted us.

I stood by as she talked to them. My only interaction with her in life had been a couple minutes of sporadic dancing, but I simply acted as if we were a couple and I was waiting for her. The principle of assuming rapport seemed to be working, because I started to feel as if we were actually together.

That girl tried to find some other guys to dance with, so I got the idea that she didn't think I was a very good dancer. It only took me about a minute to realize that it didn't matter. The dance floor was tiny compared to the others I've been on, so I headed back to my party's table to find someone else to play with.

By now, I was totally warmed up. I was ready to act a fool.

I was standing by our table dancing, and one of the girls - who I didn't remember ever seeing - said to me, "You're a really good dancer." I asked if it was sarcasm, and she said yes. I don't think we had ever met, but I acted as if we were close friends or relatives, and joked with her about my dancing, and teased her for criticizing me while not dancing herself. I busted out moves over by the table, not caring if I stood out. I sang along and swayed my arms to "Hip-Hop Hooray," and did whatever else I wanted to do.

I treated the girl as my new Liz, and periodically joked around with her all night, even when she looked more annoyed than anything else.

Back to the dance floor! Whether it be "the dance floor," a date, or any other situation, the opportunity to play without inhibition is extremely exciting.

It was late, so the small dance floor had cleared out quite a bit. I spotted an attractive Hispanic girl walking on. I had been "present" the whole night, instead of ruminating about anything mentally, so I knew from observation that she wasn't with anybody. Without hesitation (critical for much of this stuff), I walked over and started dancing with her. I heard her friend say "get him!", so I knew she was going to play.

She said something to me, but I couldn't make it out. Instead, I just assumed it was positive. We danced facing each other for a couple of minutes, and I slowed down, relaxed, and was in rhythm. Soon, she turned her back and moved her body into mine. There was no one dancing near us, so we were going to be putting on a show.

We moved our pelvises rhythmically into each other. I put one hand around her waist, then another. I explored her hips and bare belly with my hands as I held her, while leaning forward and smelling the long, pretty hair that was in my face. I took one of her hands and raised it above her head, then did the same with another at some point while we danced. It was a sensual move I knew of only from observing couples in recent outings.

We were together for a pretty long time, and at moments our activity probably seemed more like simulated sex than dancing. I looked toward my party's table, and saw one of the girls I'd talked to, Jamie, watching us. She seemed to be in awe. Eventually, my dance partner turned around, and I held her in my arms for a moment while she tried to tell me something in my ear. I wasn't sure what she said - maybe that she would be right back - but I decided to go see what was going on with my group.

All the while, Amorita had been up to her usual antics: interacting with countless people and effortlessly making friends. After being the center of attention on the dance floor, I was feeling more confident than ever, and had a thought: Why don't I try to do what she does?

I had never tried initiating a conversation with a random person at a bar. In fact, I had never been to a bar before the mission. Between my confidence and new understanding of assumed rapport, it suddenly didn't seem like a difficult task. Not at all.

Drink in hand (orange juice...I'm doing all of these things without even a sip of alcohol), I walked around the lounge. There were tables seating groups on the sides; a bar in the middle with a few seats; the dance floor, and individuals or groups standing around everywhere in-between. That was all I had to work with.

The first time around, I thought about talking to a guy who was standing and nursing a drink, but decided against it. I was feeling positive, and didn't have even a moment's thought of giving up, or of anything else negative. I instead walked around again, and this time saw a pair of girls talking to each other, but decided against interrupting.

Finally, I noticed a young lady by the bar sitting with a drink, with a somewhat bored expression on her face. I had an opening phrase in mind from earlier, but otherwise didn't do any thinking. I walked over, bent down, and said, "What's going on over here?" without any hesitation. I learned that she was with a birthday party, and I told her that I was as well. I asked if she was dancing, and she said no. I stood up, and it was a brief lull in the conversation. I thought momentarily about just leaving, but then she asked, "What's your name?"

I then knew immediately that she wanted to continue our conversation. I said it was nice to meet her, and then one of us asked another question. I knelt down beside her, and it was just like any of the other successful conversations I've talked about here. I soon learned that she was from New York City, and commented that I didn't hear her accent. I asked how she liked the new city, and stuff like that. Really, it was mostly the type of conversation that I've encountered on my first 36 dates or so. All of that experience was paying off, because this was a piece of cake! Not only that, but I was effortlessly making humorous comments throughout the conversation.

We talked for about 10 minutes, and I realized what was happening. I had synthesized everything I'd learned in over a year of dedication to my mission, and I was only a moment away from what had long seemed impossible. I was about to, for the first time in my entire life, meet someone at random. It hadn't even crossed my mind when I decided to first speak to her, but I was now only one more question away from having completed a pickup. All I had to do was ask her for her phone number.

I hadn't planned to even attempt any milestones like a pickup that night. Instead, I was merely exploring the new world that has opened up to me since I've defeated inhibition. I hadn't even stopped to think whether or not I had any interest in the girl. I realized that in the next moment, but thought that I should ask for her phone number regardless, simply for the experience and for the milestone. In the next moment, I realized that she was both attractive and nice! I was interested.

Those thoughts rushed through my mind, but I was still pretty calm internally, and completely cool on the outside.

We had talked so long that I actually didn't quite remember her name. I said, "Pronounce your name for me again." I repeated it back, and that was it. One more phrase.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, flipped it open, and asked, "What's your phone number?"

It was that simple.

She said, "But I already have a boyfriend."

I was unphased.

"Ah, okay. It was nice talking to you."

I've studied these things online, so I was familiar with the situation, despite never having experienced it. This, though, was better than anything I would have imagined.

She added, "He knows I don't have friends though." I understood that she was just trying to make friends. Lo and behold, that's what I would have preferred, anyway! I pulled my phone back out, flipped it open, and said, "Ok, lets do it then."

She gave me her phone number, and verified that my cell phone entry was correct. I excused myself, and told her I'd talk to her later.

As I walked back to my group, I finally knew the answer to my question, How do people meet other people?

They talk to them.

The Office - Update

2008-08-19T19:08:00.001-07:00

I've been keeping the blog up-to-date with the most interesting events of my social life, but there has been much more going on than I've had time to write about. In particular, it's been a long time since I've revisited one critical situation: the office.

I started my first job a little over 8 months ago. At the time, I thought it would be, in essence, my secret weapon in the mission. The idea was that it would provide me with a perfectly consistent 8 hours per day of social opportunities, where I'd be immersed, and would have no choice but to interact with people regularly. That seemed like a great way to boost my skills - so how has it been turning out?

Starting out, it really wasn't so great. For the first several months, my job just didn't require me to interact much with my coworkers, and so I didn't see much improvement, if any. Instead of growing, I simply adapted to the situation, as I probably could have even before the mission.

In the past couple months or so, things have really started to pick up. I write computer software, and now other people have started testing my project, so I've had many more opportunities to interact. Far away now are the days when I'd go to work and come home having said so few words that I could count them on my fingers. I've been working with other developers, testers, my manager, and the company president on all kinds of technical stuff. I've become very comfortable in most of these situations. I can usually speak clearly and confidently, but still, there are some issues.

With my peers, I have no problem at all. I'm reserved at work, but it's professional, so I don't expect it to to be like the spectacular socializing I've been talking about lately. (Actually, there is an extreme difference at this point. I'm a social Clark Kent at work, and a social Superman when I leave).

With my manager, I'm about just as good. He's a super nice, funny guy, and I see and talk to him almost every day. He's that rare, special type of person who makes everyone feel comfortable.

I work for a small company, where the President is also a super nice, great guy. He has a heart of gold and, in fact, I can't say that I've known anyone nicer. I don't see him every day though, and it's been obvious that for some reason, I get a little nervous when I work with him. Case in point: I am a straight up wizard when it comes to computers, and especially what I do at work. The other day, I was showing him something on my laptop, though, and felt some anxiety. I became tentative in performing what would ordinarily be as easy for me as breathing. I suppose it's the whole "authority figure" thing that many shy people have issues with, and it sucks.

On a smaller scale, I can see the same issue with my manager. When I've wanted to come in a little early so that I could leave a little early for an appointment, I've avoided asking, even though I know he wouldn't mind the slightest bit. Despite all of my other progress, it's a mental roadblock. I'm not yet sure how to shake my inhibition and be myself with these people, who own and run my company. Outside of work, the thing that has worked best has been joking around. What am I supposed to do - tease these guys? I'm not sure, but I'll figure it out. These are the last few remaining obstacles on the mission.

In spite of the roadblocks, I demonstrated some pretty spectacular progress last week, and I wish you could have been there to see it. For the first time since graduate school, I had to give a presentation, this time in front of my manager and about 11 others.

Before the mission, this would have been the most daunting of tasks. In college and graduate school, I went to the extreme of avoiding classes altogether if I knew I would have to give a presentation. When I had no choice but to deal with them, I worried for days, and felt the strongest feeling of anxiety during performance, which at times led to talking fast, shaking, stumbling, and all kinds of stuff you are probably all too familiar with.

This time, I (deliberately) didn't worry about it at all. I prepared a few hours before, and that was it.

When the time came, I simply showed up. It was an informal atmosphere, in a room full of people I'd talked to comfortably one-on-one in the past, so I knew I should be fine. For this presentation, I could sit down, so I took full advantage. I slouched slightly in my chair, recalling the "high status" confident body language my acting instructor once mentioned. I allowed myself to feel fully confident, knowing without doubt that I knew the topic of the presentation - my own work - far better than anyone else.

My state of mind was reflected in my voice - clear and confident. To my surprise, I was able to answer questions easily, giving clear explanations without any stumbling. If I made a slight error, I simply ignored it and moved on.

With each answered question, I felt more and more confident. When my manager was called away from the room, I had to take over and guide the discussion, explaining features of my product without questions to prompt me. I was amazed at how easily I could do it. Smooth, calm, relaxed - it was the antithesis of most of my past experiences with presentations.

After the nearly 2-hour presentation was over, my manager thanked me and complimented me several times. "Great job." He wasn't just being nice - it was actually really good! I had improved vastly from my school days without actually practicing, so I can't help but think that specific presentation skills are far less important than the mental skills of being relaxed and confident.

As I continue to gain a better understanding of how I'm able to pull these things off, I promise to help elucidate the technique for everyone else. In the meantime, I still have those few barriers to deal with. Tomorrow, I'm going out to lunch, for the first time, with my manager, the President, and one of the other founders of the company. Today, I couldn't even seem to think of anything to say to the other founder, who is from France and is only in town this week. Still, though I'm in no way worried about tomorrow, and instead embrace the opportunity.

How will I open up with these guys? Do I really have to play tease and play around with them, as if they were the 20-something-year-old girls I've talked about in other posts?

Don't put it past me: I'm on a mission.

The Beginning of the End

2008-08-17T17:35:00.000-07:00

The year before I started the mission, I thought about happiness. I tried to accept my situation, thinking that I was, at least at times, happy in spite of my severe lack of social contact. I reasoned that "happiness is happiness." In other words, if I'm at home alone watching a TV show that makes me laugh, I'm happy, right? It didn't really matter if I missed out on socializing, as long as I could find something that made me feel happy at the moment....right?

Wrong.

Last night, I realized that, before the mission, I was missing out on an entirely different kind of happiness. A kind that I simply could not imagine. The kind of thing you have to actually experience before you have any idea at all what you've been missing.

It was one of my first opportunities to try branching out, making connections with other friends of one of the two friends I've made since last year. Amorita invited me to her birthday party at a bar in the city.

This time, I didn't give it much forethought. When the night arrived, I simply went. None of the usual mental strategizing. I knew that I'd become quite close to Amorita, and I'm completely uninhibited when I'm with her. The idea was to see how I would feel being with both her and new people at the same time. After a year, it was hard to see how I could be shy or inhibited while with Amorita. Not only that, but it had also been over a month since I declared my inhibition dead, and outside of the office, it had failed to rear its ugly head since.

I read the wrong time on the invitation, and showed up to the bar half an hour early. I called Amorita, and it turned out she was across the street, eating dinner with one of her other friends. She suggested that I come sit with them. It would be my first test.

I had met her best friend Meniki, a beautiful, intelligent, mature Sri Lankan girl, once before at a party. When Amorita flagged me down as I passed by, I went over and greeted them both, without any forethought. I took a seat and continued without conscious thought, asking what was up, and what they'd been up to.

It didn't take long for me to see that I was myself. I joked and teased with Amorita as we usually do, and Meniki's presence didn't make a bit of difference. I felt better and better as I warmed up, and felt smooth, calm, and confident. This state of mind was reflected in my tone of voice.

We were sitting outside, where a man selling roses passed by our table. I had an impulse buy one for Amorita, since she had just mentioned that we were celebrating her birthday (a week and a half early). I motioned for the vendor to come over, and asked for an orange rose. He pulled out two, which was even better. After I bought them, I smoothly said, "Ladies..." and gave each of my friends a rose.

The three of us noticed the waiter looking extremely irritated after shattering a glass at one of the other tables. When he came by to check on us, Amorita tried to cheer him up by starting a conversation. He (a pretty creepy guy) responded by standing next to our table ceaselessly, even with major lulls in the conversation. He mentioned that his birthday was the day after mine, and I immediately raised my hand to give him a high-five. When I'm myself, I have impulses to do these things, and I now follow them - usually without any forethought whatsoever.

For some reason, Meniki invited the creepy waiter to hang out with us at the party later on, though soon regretted it. When he finally left us alone, it gave me a chance to interact with her a lot more. I joked with her about adding fuel to the fire started by Amorita in getting the waiter interested in them, and the three of us tried to figure out the best metaphor to describe the situation. This continued after the waiter asked whether Meniki was single, and the whole situation gave me a great opportunity to joke around. It may just be the nature of my real personality, but here in the blog, we've seen that teasing and joking around is invariably what helps me to relax and be myself. It is my self.

When the time came to meet more of Amorita's friends across the street, I deliberately retained my calm state of mind. I planned to just go with the flow.

I could feel that my response to being introduced to the others was different than the way these things have felt at times when I was inhibited. Then, it usually felt as if I was following a script from memory, with the perfunctory "Nice to meet you." Last night, though, it seemed as if my actions and words were coming from my feelings instead of from my thoughts.

For starters, I stood upstairs at the televisions in front of the bar, with a few of my new acquaintances. I made some small talk, but it was hard to hear, and I could feel that I needed to warm up once again with them. Early on, I got isolated from the conversations (due to the loud music in the room), and started to get stuck going over thoughts in my head. I was determined not to fall victim to rumination, and instead forced myself to stay present whenever that happened. It took a few minutes, but I was able to do it.

Soon, things started to shape up. I got a chance to talk 1 on 1 with a girl (actually, these are all women around age 27, a few years older than me) named Liz, who works with Amorita. She commented on the blazing fast speed of one of the Olympians running on TV, and I followed my impulse to say, "Reminds me of myself!" She asked if I ran track and field, and I started joking around with her. I said something like, "Well....I ran on a track once." She said, "So you're a smartass."

It was the start of an interesting exchange. I know, of course, that her perception of me was completely at odds with the image of any shy person.

I continued joking around with her, instinctively pushing her buttons when I wanted to get a rise out of her, giving me the opportunity for some more kidding around. When I'm able to be myself like that, it's amazing how much joking I do, and how easily I do it.

Liz became frustrated with me at times that night, but mostly in a friendly, funny sort of way. The key concept that I observed from playing with her was rapport. In my research for the mission, I once came across a wonderful quote:

"Usually the best way to break the ice with someone is to assume there never was any ice to begin with." -- Steve Pavlina

The point is that I had just met Liz. Only minutes after meeting this person, she was already calling me a smartass, and I was already joking around with her as if she were a close friend. I didn't treat her as a stranger, or as a "new person," and she behaved precisely the same way toward me. We completely ignored the fact that we had just met, and, without conscious thought, acted no differently than if we had been friends for years. It's assumed rapport, and it makes all the difference.

I was having a lot of fun. When the USA swimming team won the 4x100 relay, I raised my fist in victory, cheered loudly, and high-fived Liz and one of the other two girls I'd been chatting with.
I stayed and kept the three girls company for about an hour, and then finally headed over to the dance floor with the rest of the group.

It's here that I have to tell you that Amorita is absolutely amazing. When we first entered the bar, she was immediately talking to one of the security guards about something. At the time, I thought it was someone she already knew, but I was wrong. She had just started talking to him in that moment! Later, she found him and talked to him again, trying to cheer him up after some problem with management that made him want to quit his job.

Now, on the dance floor, I found Amorita dancing and talking with a group of very cool people that I didn't realize were with us. Soon, they were playing around, then even taking pictures together. I thought that they must have been friends that I didn't get introduced to, but at the end of the night I found out that she had just met them.

Lots of people are friendly and gregarious, but not to the extent of Amorita. I bring it up because I feel amazingly lucky to be friends with her, but also because she's the paradigm when it comes to social skills. I don't think anyone in the world makes friends faster or more easily, and it's all because she assumes rapport. My time spent with her the last year or so has been proof of Steve Pavlina's quote about breaking the ice.

What about me? It was my first time on a dance floor with a group of people that I knew. I felt better than ever! I danced and had a good time, free from inhibition. I danced, danced, and danced some more, even when not many others were dancing. At some point, I even ended up doing a little bump-and-grind with one of the girls. She had been hanging out with our group, but I had no idea whether or not she was with us. In a couple of hours, Amorita had made friends with so many new people that I just couldn't tell anymore.

I was following impulses. When Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody was played, some of the people around me started singing along. With barely even a moment of hesitation, I joined in, and sang at the top of my lungs. Another first. No self-consciousness.

When the bar closed up, we headed next door to get some pizza. On the way out, the huge, 6'3, 300 pound security guard from the bar was standing by the door. He complimented (i.e., hit on) Menika, saying that she was wearing a nice dress, and that he liked her outfit. Despite his size, I didn't perceive him as an intimidating figure - especially after Amorita had made friends with him - and I had an impulse to speak to him. I said, pointing at myself playfully, "What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

He said, "Your outfit..... it's alright....yeah, I like it."

Nice guy. The point is to ignore any perceptions that suggest people won't want to play with you. Those perceptions are almost always deceitful, and they're one of the main weapons of the bane of shyness. You have to assume rapport.

There were a bunch of people, but I got the feeling that Meniki, Liz, and myself were among Amorita's closest friends, because we were the last ones together at the end of the night.

First, we walked Liz to her car. She asked me where I'd parked, and when I tried to make fun of myself for not remembering, she interpreted as me being a smartass again, and started to storm off. I cleared things up skillfully, without making it into anything at all serious.

I'd felt quite a bit tighter in the pizza shop, where I sat with two people who I didn't much interact with earlier at the bar. Now, though, I felt perfect with this small group, which consisted of 3 girls who I'd been at ease talking to 1-on-1 earlier. When I realized that I'd been calling Liz by the wrong name all night, I fessed up and joked a little bit about it. There was no inhibition.

At Liz's car, she first hugged Amorita, then Meniki. I wondered for a moment if it made since for me to hug her as well, since we had just met that night. Again, though, she assumed rapport, and we hugged. I then insisted on walking Amorita and Meniki back to their car. I brought up the creepy waiter incident, and played around with Meniki, saying that I would shield her from sight. It was an improvised game I came up with when I met a new friend last week - an instance of experience providing me with material, making an obvious difference.

I noticed that I was perfectly smooth, relaxed, and confident as I said goodbye. I hugged Meniki, while telling her to have a good time in Vegas next week. I hugged Amorita (actually, for the first time ever), while telling her I'd see her next weekend. I told them to drive safe, and one of the best nights of my life was coming to a close.

On the way back to my car, I felt overjoyed. It was an indescribable feeling of happiness, beyond anything I've ever felt or could have imagined.

I realized that I had hugged five people that night. I had experienced affection from five people who I would never have known without the mission. I would have been completely oblivious to their existence had I not spent hours browsing the craigslist 'strictly platonic' section last summer, determined to make friends and turn my life around. Finally, I felt as if I no longer needed to struggle. I had achieved a sense of peace.

It's the kind of thing you have to actually experience before you have any idea at all what you've been missing.

Online Friend Meeting #5

2008-08-10T17:28:00.000-07:00

If my math is right, I've now met up with exactly 31 people after talking to them on the Internet. It's a heck of a lot easier to find people with romantic interest than people who just want to be friends, so an overwhelming majority of those - 26 out of 31 - have been dates.

I've talked a lot about the dates, but if you haven't been reading all along, you may be wondering - what about the platonic hookups?

I ended up becoming great friends with the first. She was actually the first person I ever met on my mission, back on August 9, 2007. On August 9, 2008, I sent her a text message, saying Happy Anniversary. At first she didn't know what I was talking about, but the date was extremely significant for me. After all, she alone comprised 50% of my friend base until recently. I hung out with her until the wee hours of last Friday night, and I marveled at how great it was to spend time with her. With where I've come from, I know I'll never take a friendship for granted.

The second one was a one-and-done. We had exchanged long e-mails all summer, but that ended up just seeming like a waste. I sent her an e-mail after our Starbucks meetup, and she had almost nothing to say. Then I e-mailed one more time to say hello, and never heard from her again. We're "friends" on facebook, but that couldn't be more meaningless.

The third one was amazing. For the first time ever, I had managed to be myself with someone. No if's, and's, or but's about it. She apparently didn't want to be friends (her loss), because I texted her twice afterwards, and never heard from her again.

The fourth was recent, and worked out well. I wasn't really myself the day we met, but she's super sweet and liked me just the same. We've already hung out twice since then, and have been keeping in touch. I'm now completely comfortable with her.

And then came today.

Last spring on match.com, I'd started talking to a girl who lived in another part of the country, but who had been planning to move to my area this summer. I told her that I was done with match.com, but would love to be friends after she moved to town. She responded enthusiastically, and we exchanged e-mails for the last several months to keep in touch. Finally, she was here.

We became facebook friends before meeting up, and from her profile, I learned that we had a lot of stuff in common that we'd never talked about over e-mail. That was good - plenty of conversation topics to keep in mind.

I felt a little anxious in the time leading up to our first meeting. I was very tired from having gotten little sleep (partly due to my new nightclub addiction) last night, so that worried me a little. More so than that, though, I just wanted it to go well. I hadn't met anyone new in almost a month, so I wondered briefly if I'd be a little rusty. Rusty is not what I wanted to be - I really liked this person, and wanted nothing more than to continue our friendship off-line.

One interesting note is that this girl is attractive. Very much so. Now, I point this out because it's actually relevant. I liked her very much as a person, plus she was attractive. Combine that with the fact that we originally had mutual romantic interest (presumably) in each other while communicating through a dating site, and you can't help but wonder - how could I not be interested in dating her, and vice versa?

I didn't want to date her. With the way all of my dates have turned out, it never seemed to be worth the risk of missing out on a new friendship - something that would last. I decided that, no matter what, I would only be friends with her. Even if she ended up being madly in love with me, I would still only be friends with her! No exceptions. I didn't want to add to any anxiety by allowing for even the remote possibility of romance, like I ended up doing in the date-to-friend experiment. Before I asked her to meet up, I made sure to mention that I was currently dating someone (at the time, I was!) so that there would be no question.

But I digress.

Instead of the usual Starbucks, I suggested that we hang out and play some pool - just like that third time when I'd managed to be myself.

I saw her standing outside, and she looked remarkably like her online photos. Besides that, I didn't do much more analysis. It's always fascinating to meet people after talking to them online for a long time, and so it's easy to get caught up thinking about how similar or different something is from what you imagined, but I had planned to avoid that. Instead, I just stayed present. Yep - you know the drill.

We made some smalltalk as we walked inside the pool hall and went up to the bar. She ordered a Shirley Temple, and when the bartender asked for my order, I asked for milk. Skim milk, to be exact. It was a joke that I'd mentioned to (lets call her) Cathy over e-mail, but she didn't laugh. It might not have been very funny, but it's definitely something I would have been too inhibited to have done months ago.

Then, without sitting down to drink, we started playing pool. I had expected to sit and chat for a while, but instead, we just got right to the game. A couple that sounded like they were on a first date was playing directly next to us, and I noticed they were doing a lot more talking than we were. I had plenty of conversation topics in mind, but I didn't have a good feel for how to talk about anything at length while playing pool at the same time. I only asked a question here and there, but didn't worry about it, because she was doing the same - probably a little less.

After the first game or so, I thought to myself - I'm sure glad this isn't a date. If it were, I'd be very worried right about now, because this would be pretty bad.

But it wasn't a date. I saw her checking out the Olympics on TV, and made some conversation about it, and a little more about some other things. Before long, I was getting pretty comfortable, and started making lots of jokes and humorous comments about the pool game. We were both terrible.

After the first couple games or so, I realized that we were actually playing together pretty darn well. No, not playing as in playing the game of pool. I'm talking about play in general - our interaction with each other. We weren't really having a conversation about anything, but we were constantly making fun of each other's skills; I celebrated a lucky shot by raising my hands in the air victoriously; I mockingly offered her a high-five, which she rejected; we improvised a bowling game, with her rolling billiard balls toward the triangle, which I lifted to catch the ball; I mocked her "gutter balls" in that game; I danced a little to a song she pointed out to me; stuff like that. For my part, I was really starting to be myself again.

That said, I wasn't perfect. I bumbled a few sentences, but I still do a little of that even with the first friend I made over a year ago, so I knew not to worry much about it.

After about 2 hours and 6 or 7 games of pool, she said she needed to head home and get changed for Church. It was 3:45 and Mass was at 5:30, so I wasn't sure if maybe the development was a negative one, but I stayed present instead of analyzing.

As we walked outside, I accidentally stepped on the back of her shoe. I apologized and had the reflex of touching her gently on the back at the same time. A mere nuance, but I realized my comfort with physically touching people (women in particular) had developed only recently with my time spent in crowded nightclubs.

Outside, she spotted a teaching assistant from her school who she apparently despised, so she tried to move where she couldn't be seen. Without any forethought, I playfully put my hands up and moved sideways in front of her as she walked in effort to hide her.

It was time to part ways. I made a little more conversation, but bumbled a sentence asking about her middle name - drat! A couple of sentences later, she said something like "Well this was fun. I'm glad we met. You have my e-mail and phone number, so if you want to hang out again..." Somewhere during that speech, I said the word yeah, and afterwards, I said "Talk to you later."
She said to have a safe trip home, and I said "you too."

Overall, I think it was pretty good. The only thing that really bothers me is the occasional bumbled sentence, but I'm okay with it because I don't think it ought to matter - especially not in a strictly platonic interaction like this one.

Nothing would make me happier than to continue being friends with her. Really - I care a lot more about that than any dating, and you know how strongly I've felt about that stuff at times.
I'm pretty comfortable with her already, and I'm sure I'll only get more and more so when we hang out again.

Finally, I have some plans. There has been a total breakdown in the dating world - I can't seem to even find anyone I'm interested in online right now - so I am shifting the mission to some new strategies.

Actually, what I have in mind isn't entirely new. When I wrote up my initial plans, an important strategy was to branch out from the friends that I made. Simply put, I was going to make friends with friends of my new friends. I ended up meeting a few "friends of a friend" at a party, but I didn't manage to make connections with any of them.

Now, I have a couple new opportunities. (It's so awkward writing this stuff without telling you these people's names - lets call the first friend I made Amorita). Amorita is having 2 birthday parties in the next couple of weeks. I'll go to both, and simply try to play with some of her other friends, hopefully making a connection or two.

I also have a more ambitious idea. I'm religious, but don't regularly attend Church - I've only been twice in the past 10 years or more - but Cathy mentioned something about a young adult group at her church, and it got me thinking. I didn't mention it last year, but one of my original ideas for meeting new people was to join a church. I'm thinking that maybe I will ask Cathy about joining her church, which she must still be relatively new to, and attends regularly with another friend. In exchange for a new commitment, I'd be gaining a wonderful opportunity to do a lot of branching out in Year 2 of the mission.

No hurry on that. In the meantime, I want to try something else new: So far, none of my friends have met each other. I'm planning to invite Cathy to come with me to Amorita's party at a nightclub the week after next. If she accepts, it'll be interesting, and a whole lot of fun.

Dance Dance Revolution

2008-08-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

After the amazing time I had at the nightclub last weekend, I was dying to go back. I kept thinking about it, and by Monday, I started planning to go back Friday so I would only have to wait a few more days. Then I decided to go out to clubs on both Friday and Saturday! I looked forward to it all week, but it wasn't distracting. I was more focused at work than I had been in months, perhaps partly because I was happy about making definite progress with the mission, yet free from any of the usual concerns - having to make a phone call after a date, wondering if there would be another, and all of that.

Friday night, I ended up at the same club as last week, after trying another place that was almost empty. To my surprise, the club was a lot different this time. The music was almost entirely different - mostly rap this time - and there wasn't much diversity in the crowd, but they were still mostly my age. The main dance floor felt a lot different this time without the exciting trance/techno music that people were jumping up and down to last time. People seemed to be moving a lot less, and I wondered if I would be able to defeat inhibition like I did less than a week ago.

That issue turned out to be entirely in my head. Soon, I decided that I was going to stay, I was going to have fun, and I was going to practice the skills I've been writing about.

I was going to stay in the moment, observe, and let go to follow my impulses.

It's dark inside these places. The last time I was there, though, I saw a guy making out with a beautiful girl. He looked very cool, and was wearing sunglasses. So during the week, I figured, why don't I wear sunglasses? Hey, if it worked for him....

I pulled my shades out of my pocket, put them on, and started dancing my way to a crowded spot on the floor.

Within minutes, I had let go of much of my self-consciousness and inhibition, and was back to dancing away. I tried to dance with some women, and it was pretty much the same as last week. For a while, it looked like I wasn't going to manage to do much dancing with a woman, but I was happy just to try.

I was dancing in a spot behind a group of girls - looking quite cool with my sunglasses - and I noticed that one of the girls facing me was trying to get her friend's attention. She was pointing at me! I inferred that she was trying to tell her friend that there was a good-looking guy to dance with behind her. She failed to get a response from her friend, and so, she took matters into her own.... "hands."

This girl was tall, and pretty attractive. She walked over in front of me, and started dancing. I'll keep the blog PG-13 and just tell you that she started grinding with me. It was pretty amazing - one of the items on my life's to-do list, and yet, it was so easy! The hard part would have been initiating it, and I didn't even have to do that part. I danced with her, but was a little reserved with the grinding since it was my first time.

I went back to dancing alone and, occasionally, gently putting my hand on a woman's waist after dancing behind her for a little while. I was having a bit of a problem with hesitation - it seemed to work out better for other guys when they didn't hesitate.

As it turned out, I didn't really have to do any initiating, other than as an exercise for building my courage and fighting inhibition. Another girl came up and started grinding with me as well. I wouldn't have been interested in her at all, but I wasn't going to reject anyone. Instead, I was just going to learn from the experience, and have fun! I modeled my dancing after a nearby couple, and it suffices to say we were all over each other. After a while, another, more attractive girl came up behind me and started rubbing herself on me from the other side! They had formed a man sandwich, with me as the meat. It was wild.

Doing the bump and grind with random women at a nightclub. Not the usual stuff you'd expect to hear from a shy person.

At this point, I can't label myself that way anymore. If you think like a confident person, act like a confident person, and do all the things that a confident person does.....what are you?
With this principle behind me, I went back out to a different nightclub less than 24 hours later.

When I got in line for the next club, a couple of ladies followed behind me. After a few minutes, one of them spoke to me - how was I doing tonight?

I'd already made the woeful mistake of not staying present. I'd just had an exchange involving a parking space, a conman, and a crack-head (that's American cities for you), and had been obsessively worrying about my car getting broken into. I brought my attention to the pair of ladies, but it really wasn't quite the same as having been present in the first place.

I made a little bit of conversation, asking about the club, and if they'd been to the other one, and stuff like that. Unfortunately, though, I was stiff - probably as a result of the distractions about my car. We were waiting in line together, so I should have kept the conversation going most of the time - or at least made an effort - instead of just making a comment or asking a question every now and then. The next time I'm in a situation like that, I have to stick to my strategies and make an all-out (yet relaxed!) effort.

I eventually convinced myself to let go of the worries about my car, and get back to staying present. I started moving my feet in a little dance as we neared the front of the line. I was loosening up, and it made a difference. The bouncer confiscated my gum, saying it was against the rules. He then took my wallet to search it, and without any conscious thought, I joked, "No wallets allowed either?" When he said have a good time, I told him to enjoy the gum.

It took me longer to get going in the club this time. The main dance floor wasn't open, and the smaller lobby didn't seem to have the same environment, with lots of people dancing with each other. I felt self-conscious at the thought of dancing in such a small area, without the massive crowd of people to blend into.

After an hour or so, I finally decided to put on my shades and get down to business.

When the main dance floor first opened up, it was sparsely populated, so I still had to deal with the self-consciousness. And soon after I got moving, I noticed a problem: I had managed to defy inhibition enough to dance, but not as loosely as I do in private.

It was as if I had lead in my shoes. The music was the same stuff I dance to at home, but I couldn't move as well! I felt a form of nervousness in my lower body that made it difficult for me to stay on beat. In the open floor, one girl came out to dance with me, and I accidentally bumped knees with her after a minute or so. It was pretty embarrassing, by normal standards, but I had the wherewithal to use it as practice in shrugging off mishaps - I quickly stopped thinking about it, and moved on.

At some point, I found the girl I had talked to while waiting in line. On the outside, I had told myself that I would find her and dance with her - just for the sport of it - and that's exactly what I was going to do. I saw her, dropped my thoughts, walked over and danced behind her. After it was clear that she was reciprocating and dancing with me, I gently put my right hand on her waist. It looked like we were going to have fun, but she soon turned around and said something to me. It was hard to hear, but it sounded something like "I'll dance with you, but don't hit on me!"

I wasn't sure if she was joking, or what she was thinking, but I took my hand away for a while. Then I put it back, and she seemed to move away. I couldn't tell what was going on - why would she think I was hitting on her, and why would she mind, anyway? - but I knew to just move on. Having spent some time with her earlier, it was a little harder this time: I felt odd, as if some incident had just happened with a friend.

It didn't matter, but I later realized one important thing. When someone says something like that to you....you have to play with them! You have to continue to interact. Just like in improv acting, everything that someone says or does in an interaction with you is an offer. I should have taken her "offer," in which she said something about me hitting on her, and used it to explore our interaction. I could have asked, "You think I'm hitting on you?" I could have joked, "Does this mean we're not getting married?" I could have said absolutely anything at all and it could have led to all sorts of things, while saying nothing and ending the interaction was a mistake. I have to work on the idea more, but I think it's going to be a very important concept in defeating inhibition. The nightclub is an absolutely perfect place to practice this skill. It's difficult to be self-conscious about anything in such a loud, crowded place, and it's easy to move on immediately and try it with hundreds or thousands of people you'll never see again.

Overall, I had a little more difficulty staying present and following my impulses this time. For example, there was a large group of hot Asian girls on the main dance floor. They were dancing with each other....all night! I wanted to merely try to dance with one of them, but I was downright intimidated. I kept thinking, trying to figure out the reason that they were dancing with each other instead of with guys, and wondering how they would react to me. I tried and tried again, but couldn't make myself interact with one of them. Since all I wanted to do was try, this was a pretty miserable failure.

The reason I've been writing about following impulses is that doing so prevents us from being hindered by logic and reasoning. Inhibition is the enemy, and logic and reasoning are two of its strongest weapons. I shouldn't have even hesitated when I had the impulse to dance with that group.

And finally, there was some glory. On the smaller dance floor, I was dancing and having a good time when a slim, attractive girl (okay....so I didn't actually see much of her face) came up and initiated the bump and grind with me. This time, I let go of everything. I made no attempt to hide my arousal (PG-13 - I'm trying), and we were both totally into it. I grabbed and held her around the waist and stomach with both hands, leaned onto her so closely that I could have kissed her, and, well, we freak danced. We stayed together through several songs, and I was amazed at how long it lasted. There weren't many other dancing couples in sight - let alone any as wild as us - so I felt extremely confident the whole time, knowing that I was doing what most other guys in the building were failing to do.

In retrospect, I know that the few problems I had that night were not too different from ones experienced by the average person. In a little over a year, I've come a long, long way from "Zero."