Mission Mania: Date #44

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

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

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

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.
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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.
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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

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

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

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

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

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

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.
____________

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.
____________

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.