Monday, June 18, 2007

"I think it's safe to say that I have no game."

Perhaps it's because I'm a little hungover, or perhaps because only had four hours of sleep owing to the fact that I thought it was a good idea to go hang out with members of Pela and Brakes till 2 am last night, that trying to form coherent sentences is rather challenging. I have my ambient music turned up and I'm hoping for some sort of design breakthrough with this tight deadlined work project. Mostly I'm just drooling.

Despite my best intentions, I got jack shit done this weekend unless you count copious amounts of drinking with friends. Friday night? A therapeutic dose of alcohol and tapas with coworker friends. Saturday? A prosecco soaked picnic with Lesbian Club, a trip to Ginger's to avoid the rain, and then a free Joan Osborne concert in Prospect Park with some new friends. Sunday? Brunch followed by an ill advised exploration of gin based beverages while sitting in the back garden of Flatbush Farm. My arm apparently needed no twisting when my roommate said I should join her for the Pela concert at the Mercury Lounge.

But let us rewind back to Sunday's brunch at Beast.

I should briefly mention that my second date with Ms. Y ended with her admission that she wants to be just friends. Disappointed, my friend Kerry and I used brunch to not only come up with some dating strategy, but to shine a light on my flaws. Some of which are:

* I intellectualize my emotions too much.
* I'm too afraid to make the first move.
* As someone who is aggressive in every other aspect life, the lack of this quality in my lovelife is a detriment if not an irony.

"Yeah because I don't want to get hurt!" I protested shortly after chewing through a mouthful of raspberry muffin.

Kerry, who was slicing through a sausage, made a face. "As they say in finance, you have to spread the risk. The more times you put yourself out there, the more success rate you'll have."

I frowned and stared into the remains of my burger. I wanted to remind Kerry of all the risk I spread while engaging in OFTL. Five first dates in January 2006? Risk-tastic. "I think it's safe to say that I have no game."

"Yeah. You have no game," Kerry said with a slow shake of her head that belied her embarrassment for me. "Girls see you and expect you to be the aggressor and I think it confuses them when you're not. Just go get a date with a girl and get her drunk and make out with her."

This is apparently my new strategy. It is a timeless strategy that has worked for millions of love challenged humans. Or I could just stop being a pussy and spread a little more risk.

Why does that sound dirty?

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Crap news about Ms Y.

I too suffer from lack of game and I'm not even afraid to make the first move, I just absolutely, categorically refuse to make it, ever again. But I digress...

Your friend is right. Go get someone drunk and make out with her! Spread the risk, baby!

EnnuiHerself said...

So . . . is this the beginning of Operation Tackle The Lesbians??

Cecelia said...

Wait, I am a stranger and a bit confused. so, while I could take careful notes and reread the previous entries, that seems tough and my pint of ice cold beer tell me to take the easy way out. Was Ms. Y the woman who applied for the position of date?
Damn, I wish I could make a sincere application for the post. But, I live in Vermont.

Cecelia said...

And, apparently, I need to proofread my comments before publishing. Again, though, the pint of beer convinced me of otherwise. Please forgive the typos.

aimee said...

You were eating a muffin with a burger?

nycrouge said...

There are no limits to my wrongness.

"Was Ms. Y the woman who applied for the position of date?"

Yes. Despite my pledge to be candid, I decided to be purposely cryptic.

Cecelia said...

Despite my pledge to be candid, I decided to be purposely cryptic.

But, you have to, because she is reading. I presume that you have an anonymous blog that parallels this one but allows for brutal honesty. Alas, never the two shall meet.
Dammit, I just gave away my secret identity as a conspiracy theorist, didn't I?