Blind Dates

I’ve finally come out of my shell. I guess sort, I’d be lying to you if I said it didn’t take a couple drinks to get me there but I’ve done it. I’ve finally grown enough testicular fortitude to actually approach a random girl I get a crush on from across the bar, in hopes to spark conversation with her. It’s taken me twenty six years and a coat of liquor confidence for me to actually do it, but I God damn I’ve finally grown up.

There’s just only been one downfall to this whole false confidence, liquid coat thing, after getting myself to the point where I’m not worried about making a fool of myself in front of a girl, I tend to push myself over the edge. It’s a wicked thin ice I walk on when I get that liquor confidence because all it takes is one more drink to put me over the top and I won’t remember a thing.

Unfortunately that exactly has been my biggest issue. Yeah maybe I’ve grown some balls for once in my life but more often than not it results in me going dark and forgetting not just our encounter but the entire night. I never remember any one of their names, I couldn’t tell you who the hell is on the other side of these messages , and there is absolutely no shot I could pick any of them out of a lineup. The only thing that seems to happen is I keep setting myself up on these blind dates with people that when we show up know me, while I arrive and have no idea who or what I’m looking for.

If they don’t text me or no one is there the next morning to remind me that I actually got someone’s number, then it didn’t happen. Unless we exchange numbers like they do in High School Musical I won’t remember a lick. I need to find myself some real confidence and actually go up and talk to a girl instead of setting myself up for all these blind dates with these numbers in my phone that evidently I’ve already met. I never know what I’m getting into when I make plans with someone anymore.

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