Whenever I enter a bar on a Friday or Saturday night, the first thing I do is scan the room to see who else is there. I know I’m not alone in this, in fact, it’s probably what everybody does when they enter a social setting like a bar or club. At least if you’re single.
However, I think I do it for different reasons than most. When people take that glance from wall-to-wall, they’re looking to see if there’s any “talent.” Meaning, hot people. And no, I never actually use the word talent when I am out in public, and that’s why I put it in quotes.
But anyway, guys, for instance, will look around and scout out who the most physically appealing girls in the room are. After they do so, they can do whatever they wish with that information. They can strategize their plan of attack, they can analyze if the girl is there alone, with friends, with a significant other, or they can just stand at the opposite end of the bar, do nothing but stare at her and take solace in knowing that they are in the same room with an extremely hot girl.
When I scan the room, I am doing it with the hope that aren’t any hot chicks in the room. I know what you’re probably thinking: “Whaaaaaaaat?! What is this dude talking about?”
No it’s not because I’m gay, or because I am a eunuch or a priest, or because I am currently in a relationship. It’s because knowing that there is indeed a beautiful girl in the same room as me, probably drunk and probably looking to hook up, well, it just ruins my night. Because I know I don’t have the suaveness to be the one who impresses her more than anyone else.
And that’s not say that I lack confidence. I actually think very highly of myself. Probably too highly. But I just don’t have the ability to sweep a girl off of her feet in a matter of a few minutes. Because, in this context, that’s all you have. A few minutes. If you go in for it, and you’re lucky enough for her to give you a shot, you have about 200 seconds to gain her approval. And that’s just too stressful for me.
So I’d rather there just weren’t any good-looking girls in the room. That way, I don’t even have to think about it. I could just act free, live in the moment, and concentrate on drinking alcohol and conversing with my friends.
I made my first ever Craigslist sale the other day. I responded to somebody’s listing, and we exchanged phone numbers and planned to meet. The person’s name was “Jamie,” and for some reason, I assumed it was a guy. I know more Jamies that are guys instead of girls.
Well, after we exchanged texts, I learned that she was indeed a girl, and suddenly, everything changed. For this simple, straightforward exchange, I suddenly had to look good. I needed conversation fodder. And that was before I even knew what this girl looked like.
But knowing how these things usually work, how I wasn’t even trying to put myself into a position to associate with a hot girl… I knew she was going to be a perfect 10.
So of course, as I’m waiting on the sidewalk in Manhattan outside of a bar, I see a cab pull up, and two gorgeous girls walk out, who look about my age. A redhead and a blonde. I didn’t even have any question that it was them. I said her name, and it was. After a three- or four-minute conversation in which I honestly don’t remember anything that was said — although I’m sure there was some stuttering and awkward laughs on my part — they walked away, our transaction complete.
And, naturally, I spent the next several hours wondering if I should have tried to talk to her longer, and was full of regret that I may have missed a golden opportunity.
Again, if hot girls didn’t exist, this wouldn’t be a problem.
Next time I put something on Craigslist, I am writing, “Respond only if you’re a guy or an ugly chick. Thanks!”