Ive been having some shit tiemz these last few days. So, today, I decided Id prove that I am the master of my own destiny. And what is the best way to do that? By asking out a complete stranger, of course!
No, before I get to the awkward, heres a bit of backstory:
Yesterday, possibly my worst day in recent memory is far as anxiety and depression goes, Westfield Doncaster was hosting a Model Hunt or something for Girlfriend Magazine. Now, to those of you who arent from Australia, or just arent familiar with this raging mag; Girlfriend is a sort of main-stream goss magazine for girls between the ages of 11 and 14.
So, naturally, all the girls lined up for this audition (which was held in public, with a queue just shy of one hundred meters long) were all between the age of about 14 and 17. I was glummy around, standing on the walkway which looked down onto said queue, and shaking my head.
But from where I stood I could see right into the front window of a womens clothing store called Glassons. In the window, a Visual Merchandiser was dressing mannequins, and she was my palette to a T. She had shoulder-length black hair, snow white skin, and of course a brilliant pair of glasses.
I smiled, commented to myself on how cute she was and went about my day.
Now, I told you that story so I could tell you this story:
Today, I was feeling much better than I had the day previous, having done a bit of singing, drinking and snuggling the night before. I was back on top of-, well, I wouldnt say I was on top of the world so much as I was climbing the side of it. But you get my point.
Scott asked me to go and get a coffee or something with him, -I wasnt really paying attention-, and so we walked out into the centre to his favourite coffee place. On the way, I once again saw the cute Visual Merchandiser from Glassons. I stopped Scott to, -once again-, try to get the Gay guy to appreciate the feminine form.
She was dressed today in an orange dress cut just above her knees, with those straps that sort of stylishly droop just over the shoulders, with a pair of flats -which I love-, and those knee-high sock/stocking things. I said to Scott she was totally the most gorgeous girl in the centre.
He made a sort of grunting noise and gestured back toward the coffee place which I assume meant he agreed. In a perfect world, I said to him, I could totally go up to her and ask her out and it wouldnt be weird.
Why dont you then? He retorted with a groan of the mildest frustration.
I thought about that. And then later, I decided I would. It took a little while, -I dunno, about an hour or so-, to properly get the concept of approaching this stranger to transition from fantasy to stark possibility.
But when it did, I felt my heart calm down, and I was able to relax. I knew the one thing that was frightening was obviously the concept of her rejecting me. But once I got it into my head that it wasnt the ending so much as the journey that mattered to me, it came a lot easier.
What took me the most time, was figuring out exactly what I had to say to her. It couldnt be sleazy, it couldnt be stalky, it couldnt be under-confident but it couldnt be arrogant, either.
But once I think I had everything right, I sauntered off to Glassons and saw her through the window, standing on a step ladder restocking the shelves.
I then walked back to work without doing anything.
But ten minutes later, I went back. This time I saw her in the same spot, but with feet firmly on the floor so she wouldnt be looking down on me, -yes, I observe these basic laws of psychology-, and this time I went right in.
Now, as I mentioned Glassons is a clothing store that only stocks womens wear. So as soon as I walked in there, I was already looking strange. But I didnt waste time. I didnt loiter. I walked right up toward her.
Thankfully, shed passed Retail 101, and saw me coming before I stopped, smiled and said; Hey, how are you?
Good thanks, I replied, smiling back.
Can I help at all?
You, can actually. I told her, but I need to warn you that Im in a kinda weird mood, so I might come off as a little strange.
That made her laugh. Things were going swimmingly.
Do you remember yesterday, when they were having that big model thing out in the centre? I asked, gesturing behind me, to where the line of pubescent teenage girls stretched not twenty-four hours earlier.
Yeah, She nodded, slipping a floral dress onto a hangar as she tilted her head, eyes on mine.
Well, I was standing up on that balcony-thing on the other side, at this point, I was sure she thought I was going to make some sort of complaint. And I was looking down at all the girls who were auditioning, but all I could think was that the most gorgeous one out of all of them was standing in a shop window dressing mannequins.
She laughed then, smiled wide and giggled. She put the dress up on the shelf and added; yeah, that one doing all the sweaty, hard work, huh?
I chuckled, and nodded. Yeah, exactly. I didnt waste a beat. So I had no choice but to go home early, which was a half-truth, and from six that night until about two this morning, I sat drafting about fifteen different excuses and situations in which I could talk to this girl without walking into this shop and looking like 1, I was shopping for my girlfriend, or 2, that I was gay.
She laughed really hard at that one. Shed stopped making as much eye contact now. She bent down to begin hanging another garment as she listened to the tale id spent the better part of my morning formulating. What a trooper.
But then, at about one thirty, Im aware that Id already stated I sat in my room until two, but Im hoping she didnt notice. I went into the kitchen for a moment of respite, and my roommate said to me, Hey man, why dont you just go in and tell her your name and ask her out for coffee? and I said to him, nah man, that only ever works in movies, right?
She was grinning steadily at this point, folding something in her hands that I cant quite remember.
But then I thought there might have been some truth to the simplicity in his idea. I told her, changing my mannerisms and tone to be less dramatic and a touch more sincere. So, my names Brian.
My names is Sarah, Sarah told me.
Would you let me take you out for coffee, Sarah?
She kept her grin the whole time. I dont think my boyfriend would like that very much.
Its just coffee, not a marriage proposal. I rebutted, (Thanks Mr. Nicholson.)
Unfortunately my boyfriend isnt the type of guy who could distinguish between the two, She conceded, still smiling. Still folding.
Well, I threw down my sword. The last thing I wanted to reek of was desperation. At least if I die tomorrow, I wont regret not coming in here and talking to you.It was a little morbid, but to look upon my face you could tell it was meant in jest. A flurry of my own defeat.
And now maybe youll have the confidence to do it again sometime. She always smiled. I liked that. Id pictured frowns or looks of shock, and horror. But she was gentle with me, which was nice because Im oh-so-fragile.
Thats right, I said. It was nice meeting you, Sarah.
Bye, Brian. Sarah said.
I then had to walk out of the store alone. But it was worth it. Id proven to myself that the gilded cage of society that I detest so much can be bent, if not broken. Id proven to myself that not all strangers are evil.
But best of all, Im sure I made the day of a gorgeous girl who, -even if she doesnt share the tale with others-, will no doubt have felt flattered and special for the rest of the day.
And Id made a beautiful girl laugh and smile.
Thats enough sometimes, right?
Love and Kittens,
Brian
No, before I get to the awkward, heres a bit of backstory:
Yesterday, possibly my worst day in recent memory is far as anxiety and depression goes, Westfield Doncaster was hosting a Model Hunt or something for Girlfriend Magazine. Now, to those of you who arent from Australia, or just arent familiar with this raging mag; Girlfriend is a sort of main-stream goss magazine for girls between the ages of 11 and 14.
So, naturally, all the girls lined up for this audition (which was held in public, with a queue just shy of one hundred meters long) were all between the age of about 14 and 17. I was glummy around, standing on the walkway which looked down onto said queue, and shaking my head.
But from where I stood I could see right into the front window of a womens clothing store called Glassons. In the window, a Visual Merchandiser was dressing mannequins, and she was my palette to a T. She had shoulder-length black hair, snow white skin, and of course a brilliant pair of glasses.
I smiled, commented to myself on how cute she was and went about my day.
Now, I told you that story so I could tell you this story:
Today, I was feeling much better than I had the day previous, having done a bit of singing, drinking and snuggling the night before. I was back on top of-, well, I wouldnt say I was on top of the world so much as I was climbing the side of it. But you get my point.
Scott asked me to go and get a coffee or something with him, -I wasnt really paying attention-, and so we walked out into the centre to his favourite coffee place. On the way, I once again saw the cute Visual Merchandiser from Glassons. I stopped Scott to, -once again-, try to get the Gay guy to appreciate the feminine form.
She was dressed today in an orange dress cut just above her knees, with those straps that sort of stylishly droop just over the shoulders, with a pair of flats -which I love-, and those knee-high sock/stocking things. I said to Scott she was totally the most gorgeous girl in the centre.
He made a sort of grunting noise and gestured back toward the coffee place which I assume meant he agreed. In a perfect world, I said to him, I could totally go up to her and ask her out and it wouldnt be weird.
Why dont you then? He retorted with a groan of the mildest frustration.
I thought about that. And then later, I decided I would. It took a little while, -I dunno, about an hour or so-, to properly get the concept of approaching this stranger to transition from fantasy to stark possibility.
But when it did, I felt my heart calm down, and I was able to relax. I knew the one thing that was frightening was obviously the concept of her rejecting me. But once I got it into my head that it wasnt the ending so much as the journey that mattered to me, it came a lot easier.
What took me the most time, was figuring out exactly what I had to say to her. It couldnt be sleazy, it couldnt be stalky, it couldnt be under-confident but it couldnt be arrogant, either.
But once I think I had everything right, I sauntered off to Glassons and saw her through the window, standing on a step ladder restocking the shelves.
I then walked back to work without doing anything.
But ten minutes later, I went back. This time I saw her in the same spot, but with feet firmly on the floor so she wouldnt be looking down on me, -yes, I observe these basic laws of psychology-, and this time I went right in.
Now, as I mentioned Glassons is a clothing store that only stocks womens wear. So as soon as I walked in there, I was already looking strange. But I didnt waste time. I didnt loiter. I walked right up toward her.
Thankfully, shed passed Retail 101, and saw me coming before I stopped, smiled and said; Hey, how are you?
Good thanks, I replied, smiling back.
Can I help at all?
You, can actually. I told her, but I need to warn you that Im in a kinda weird mood, so I might come off as a little strange.
That made her laugh. Things were going swimmingly.
Do you remember yesterday, when they were having that big model thing out in the centre? I asked, gesturing behind me, to where the line of pubescent teenage girls stretched not twenty-four hours earlier.
Yeah, She nodded, slipping a floral dress onto a hangar as she tilted her head, eyes on mine.
Well, I was standing up on that balcony-thing on the other side, at this point, I was sure she thought I was going to make some sort of complaint. And I was looking down at all the girls who were auditioning, but all I could think was that the most gorgeous one out of all of them was standing in a shop window dressing mannequins.
She laughed then, smiled wide and giggled. She put the dress up on the shelf and added; yeah, that one doing all the sweaty, hard work, huh?
I chuckled, and nodded. Yeah, exactly. I didnt waste a beat. So I had no choice but to go home early, which was a half-truth, and from six that night until about two this morning, I sat drafting about fifteen different excuses and situations in which I could talk to this girl without walking into this shop and looking like 1, I was shopping for my girlfriend, or 2, that I was gay.
She laughed really hard at that one. Shed stopped making as much eye contact now. She bent down to begin hanging another garment as she listened to the tale id spent the better part of my morning formulating. What a trooper.
But then, at about one thirty, Im aware that Id already stated I sat in my room until two, but Im hoping she didnt notice. I went into the kitchen for a moment of respite, and my roommate said to me, Hey man, why dont you just go in and tell her your name and ask her out for coffee? and I said to him, nah man, that only ever works in movies, right?
She was grinning steadily at this point, folding something in her hands that I cant quite remember.
But then I thought there might have been some truth to the simplicity in his idea. I told her, changing my mannerisms and tone to be less dramatic and a touch more sincere. So, my names Brian.
My names is Sarah, Sarah told me.
Would you let me take you out for coffee, Sarah?
She kept her grin the whole time. I dont think my boyfriend would like that very much.
Its just coffee, not a marriage proposal. I rebutted, (Thanks Mr. Nicholson.)
Unfortunately my boyfriend isnt the type of guy who could distinguish between the two, She conceded, still smiling. Still folding.
Well, I threw down my sword. The last thing I wanted to reek of was desperation. At least if I die tomorrow, I wont regret not coming in here and talking to you.It was a little morbid, but to look upon my face you could tell it was meant in jest. A flurry of my own defeat.
And now maybe youll have the confidence to do it again sometime. She always smiled. I liked that. Id pictured frowns or looks of shock, and horror. But she was gentle with me, which was nice because Im oh-so-fragile.
Thats right, I said. It was nice meeting you, Sarah.
Bye, Brian. Sarah said.
I then had to walk out of the store alone. But it was worth it. Id proven to myself that the gilded cage of society that I detest so much can be bent, if not broken. Id proven to myself that not all strangers are evil.
But best of all, Im sure I made the day of a gorgeous girl who, -even if she doesnt share the tale with others-, will no doubt have felt flattered and special for the rest of the day.
And Id made a beautiful girl laugh and smile.
Thats enough sometimes, right?
Love and Kittens,
Brian