Uh, I Am Not Very Good At This



I think you’re cute.

And if you ever want to go grab a cup of coffee, here’s my number, give me a call.

Then I walked away.

Killed that fantasy.

Took two weeks.

I won’t say should, would, or could, but I was kicking myself two weeks ago Friday for not doing exactly what I did tonight, then.  But hey, its progress.

Stuff like that would have terrorized me for months if not years, you think I kid.

And I am not very good at this, but the only way to go through, is through.

I need to do this sort of stuff as I am changing by changing.  I mean, I won’t change by doing the same things I have always done.  Which looks a bit like, crush out on someone and never say anything unless they are moving away or I am.

I still almost did not do it.

I stood, re-arranging my bag, checking my phone, chatting to the person standing next to me, watching him.

He passed me, I caught his eye, I smiled, he smiled, then he walked by.


What am I doing?

I can do this.

I walked out.

I walked away.

I walked past.

I did not collect $200.

I did not pass Go.


I stood outside on the sidewalk and as I was standing next to John Ater who was inquiring if I was coming out to dinner or not, I realized I could not stand the talking to I would get if I told him what I had just done.

Sometimes people pleasing does work for me.

I turned around and went back inside to use the bathroom.

I saw him again and walked by.



I can do this.

I went pee and looked myself firm in the eye, sack up, lady pants, you got this.

Besides, I looked stupid cute.

You should have seen me this morning trying to juggle what I was going to wear.

I can’t remember being so flummoxed by my wardrobe in sometime and it was because I knew I would see the guy tonight and I would need to pull the trigger.

Have to pull it.

I can’t stand the being in fantasy part any longer.

Get it over with, ask and find out, then move on.

That’s the only way I am going to find out, since I haven’t been asked out of late and I want that to change.  I want to go on a date, I got to let people know I am available and I need to let the guys know whom I am attracted to.

Otherwise it’s all just a story in my head.

I walked out of the bathroom and he was standing with his back towards me speaking with someone who needed some help and it was the moment.

I knew it.

I rummaged in my bag (I am not the confident girl who demands the phone from the guy and then plugs her number into it, that’s movie stuff as far as I am concerned) and pulled out a little notebook.

I wrote my name.

I wrote my number.

I folded it in half.

I looked up and he was walking my way.

“Hi Carmen,” he said and smiled and headed to the bathroom.

Oh my god, I am about to do it again.

I could feel myself shrinking back and about to stick the piece of folded up paper in my pocket.

I have done this a number of times too–gotten really close to asking someone out or saying something and then letting the moment go right on by–and then spent the rest of the week kicking myself.

I am so tired of kicking myself when I am down.

“Hey ________,” I almost shouted, but not quite.

He stopped, turned, cocked his head, paused.

Oh stupid, you are stupid, damn it, and whoa, he’s cute, he’s cute.

“Uh, I am not very good at this,” I blurted out, “but, I think you’re really cute (oh heaven’s to Betsy, did I just say that?  Am I in high-school?) and if you ever want to grab a coffee, give me a call.”

I handed him the folded up piece of paper and bolted.

I did not wait for a response.

I think I smiled.

I am not certain if he was heading to the bathroom or going to say something to me or what, I cannot tell, I was not present to gauge his reaction.

I know he took the piece of paper.


Sweet fucking relief.

I am not fantasizing any more.

As soon as I was outside, I could feel it lift.

Followed by a rush of adrenalin that was not as bad as I have had it before.

I stood outside, waited for John, then walked down to Haight Street with him and a few other folks for some dinner at a nearby cafe.

By the time I had finished dinner and swapped numbers with a new women whom I had met recently but not had a chance to chat with, I had forgotten all about it.

It was only when I went to check my phone to see when the next N-Judah was going to be running that I remembered.

Because there was not a text or a call on it.

So be it.

There could be later or not.

I don’t have to worry about it.

I did the action.

I got some relief.

That’s what it’s about really.

I don’t have control over how any of this stuff works, but I do find that when I take the suggestions I feel better.  I don’t know who I am going to date next, only that I will, because I am willing to take action.

Willingness without action is fantasy.

Shot the fantasy in the foot tonight.

Even if what it looked like was that I just stuck my foot in my mouth.

Action was taken.

Done is done.


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