First encounters — at work, in class, at a party, through mutual friends, on Facebook — are endless.
But when somebody catches your eye and you can’t help but stare, what is the next move? Play the flirtatious smiling game? Tell your friends to go put in a good word? Send over a drink? Or the ballsiest of them all — go talk to them yourself?
I am a confident person. I know the things that I want in life. I have no problem with trying to obtain those goals. And this includes men. When it comes to a man, if I like what I see, I will walk straight up to him and give him my number.
Real life story — I was working a concert at the San Diego County Fair this past summer. I fell in lust with the drummer. He had big muscles, a lip ring and a ripped T-shirt; everything a horny 20-year-old could ever want in a man.
I went against my instincts of putting the moves on the guy, considering I was at work and not willing to blacklist a job. I did, however, find out that his band would be playing at the fair again the following Thursday.
After what seemed like eternity, the day of the show arrived. I picked up my wingman, or what I like to call my “wing-sister,” and made the hour long drive to the fairgrounds.
My wing-sister is the best person I could ask for on a mission such as this. She is up for anything and supports me on my crazy decisions. After I parked and reapplied my foundation we headed to the concert.
While listening to the show, I pulled out an old coupon from my purse and wrote my number on a piece of paper and signed my name on the back. Call me the queen of being romantic.
After the band finished their encore, the lead singer announced they would be available for autographs. Like a giddy little girl, I asked each band member to sign my poster (which I might add is still hanging in my room) leaving the drummer for last.
I walked over to this beautiful, sculpture-like creature and said “Hi, can you autograph my poster?”
He signed it and looked at me with this adorable smile as he handed the poster back to me. I handed him the piece of paper with my signature and said “I’m going to give you my autograph in case I ever become famous and my number in case you don’t have a girlfriend and want to hang out.”
He never called.
I told myself he had a girlfriend. Truth is, he probably didn’t think I was cut out to be a groupie.
Which raises the question: How do guys feel when a girl makes the first move?
I’ve been debating the answer to this question since the failed attempt seven months ago.
My therapist, who also is my roommate, says it’s my way of coping with the denial, which is probably true.
In retrospect, I would be a lot more upset if I didn’t “man-up” and give him my number. Even though I never received a call, I definitely received a boost of confidence, and a funny story.
I don’t know too many people who would make a fool of themselves, for the sake of their dignity, for someone they find appealing. And quite frankly, this upsets me.
Technology, online dating and social networking sites like Facebook make the sting of denial non-existent by providing information on people beforehand.
Relationship status, interests and the whereabouts of the person can all be found by a click of a mouse.
I find that the mystery of not knowing is the fun in trying, and if there is a sting, it only makes us stronger and less afraid to put ourselves out there again.
And what better time with Valentine’s Day right around the corner?
In the mean time, I’ll just have to hope that my swagger pays off on this Fresno State basketball player I’ve been debating on giving my digits to.