Friday, August 20, 2010

Cold Feet

I've never been particularly smooth with the ladies. Never been a player, so how would I know the game? But usually most normal dudes have some sort of tact when it comes to women. Sadly, I must have been busy talking to a girl about that smell gas has or something while the instructional books on how to flirt were being passed out to fellow men.

However, my fail flirting does lead to some amusing stories.

My first year of college was a great year. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and so I thought I'd dabble in a little of this and a little of that. Strangely, I chose two courses that were surprisingly different: Computer Science and Theatre.

Computer science was a terribly boring course that took place on Saturday mornings. It was a drudging 9-12 lecture followed by a 12-1 lab. It was an intro course and so I basically knew everything anyway. I remember all those wide eyed people listening intently while the professor told them that RAM and ROM was not the same thing.

Theatre was a blast, though. Wednesday evenings from 6-9. I've always had some serious issues with public speaking and I took the course mainly because I wanted to overcome that obstacle. Also, I figured it might be a nice outlet to purge my creativity. My classmates were all pretty cool too. Sure, there was the one guy who was WAY out there and his performances were attempting to be original, deep, and entertaining but ended up just being confusing and dull. There were several people in the course that couldn't act their way out of a wet paper bag. But the people with whom I bonded most were great.

One of those people was a girl. This was over a decade ago, so I don't remember her name. But I liked her. Now, you might be wondering why I liked her. It may have been because she was sweet and nice. It may have been because she was talented and intelligent. It may have been because she was pretty. Most likely it was because of her assets. After all, her nickname was "Fun Jugs" for a reason.

But I digress. I liked her a lot but didn't know how to brooch the subject. Telling this woman that I liked her was terrifying and I certainly couldn't think of a reasonable way to ask her out. But for the whole week between classes I was excited to see her, and on days when she never came to class I was really disappointed.

As the semester came to a close, I realised that I was out of time. I wasted so many weeks doing nothing and now I had to work fast. I decided that I would do SOMETHING...ANYTHING...when we talked. But I didn't know what.

She came into the class room and sat on the floor. We had to sit in a circle for some stupid theatre exercise and she sat next to me. While waiting for the instructor to begin, she turned to me and said "my feet are cold." She was wearing sandals and the room was quite chilly.

This was it. This was my chance. I'd either win her over or be shot down brutally. But I had a plan. In my head, my response to her statement was brilliant...both charming and clever. A beautiful organization of words that would have her smile and realise that I was the man of her dreams. I opened my mouth and gracefully delivered the best line ever:

"Your feet are cold? Want to borrow my shoes?"

As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I realised that sometimes things sound much better in your head. Once I had said them, I wanted to shrink down to nothing and run away. What the fuck was that? Want to borrow my shoes? WHAT?

I did get the smile, but it almost immediately turned into a bout of laughter. She laughed so hard she nearly tipped sideways. Fortunately for me, other students heard what I said and laughed, asking me why I just offered her my shoes. She then declined my offer and began talking to someone else. Embarrassment.

After class, I caught up with her. We laughed a bit about my poor choice of words as we walked to the bus stop. I had taken the bus because my car was broken (and friends were picking me up from the north side of Calgary to return me to Airdrie). While on the bus, I balled-up and asked her if she wanted to go out to a movie sometime next week. Her response:


Yeah. Ouch. I didn't know what to say so I just said "Why not?" And like my life had been written into a movie, it was at that exact moment that the bus arrived at her stop. She said bye and left.

As it turned out, she had asked "why" because she was curious as to why I wanted to wait until next week. It was because my car would have been repaired by then. But the damage was done. You see, it was a good three weeks between the fateful bus trip and when I talked to her again, and between those times she had met another boy. Fail.

To this day I'm unsure if she thought my shoes question was adorable or retarded. But I do think she did like me. I just wasted so much time to make a move that I lost out. Story of my life. When I meet women, I think I should always remember this story. Maybe then I'll act like a normal guy instead of a pussy.

The moral? Get some balls if you want some fun jugs.

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