Proud Mary
Something funny happened last night. Funny or disturbing, actually, depending on how you look at it. So I’m at the bar with some friends from work, listening to people sing karaoke. This cute blonde girl that I’ve never seen there before steps up and does an amazing rendition of “Proud Mary.” The crowd loves it. I love it. I’m instantly drawn to her.
She’s got a girl-next-door look to her, which makes her rather approachable. My friend Mad and I wind up chatting with her a little bit, mostly just telling her how impressed we were with her singing.
A little later on, she catches me looking at her and smiles. I smile back. Suddenly, I realize I might be “in there.” Realize for a moment that, contrary to common belief, I am not a pickup artist. I have no bar game. At all. I have never been able to do this, and have never really put much work into trying. Still, this situation seems tailor-made...a sure thing, if you will.
I chat with her a couple of times. She tells me her name, I crack a few jokes. We keep touching each other; it’s very flirty. I decide to ask for her number, even though she says she’s gonna keep coming to the bar (I’m well aware of how bad an idea it is to leave things to chance). However, when I go to ask for the number, I put my arm around her, lean in to whisper some silly come-on in her ear, and at the moment of truth–I hesitate.
For some reason, instead of asking for her number, I wind up saying goodnight. I don’t know if it’s because of all the other guys flirting with her (I hate competition) or if I’m suddenly nervous (unlikely, especially at that point), but for whatever reason I decide not to ask for the number. I figure it’s okay; I can always ask her the next time I see her.
I find out later that evening from Mad that apparently the girl and I play on the same team. Yes, she is a self-admitted lesbian (apparently she likes Latin girls). I’m actually stunned, because I have never hit on a lesbian without knowing she was a lesbian. It’s just never happened before. It’s not like I have flawless gaydar, but I usually am able to pick up on these things. And even if I don’t, I don’t usually mistake that a girl is into me when she’s not. I second-guess things too much for that.
So now, the next time I see her, instead of asking for her number, I plan to ask what she thought of last week’s episode of The L Word...
She’s got a girl-next-door look to her, which makes her rather approachable. My friend Mad and I wind up chatting with her a little bit, mostly just telling her how impressed we were with her singing.
A little later on, she catches me looking at her and smiles. I smile back. Suddenly, I realize I might be “in there.” Realize for a moment that, contrary to common belief, I am not a pickup artist. I have no bar game. At all. I have never been able to do this, and have never really put much work into trying. Still, this situation seems tailor-made...a sure thing, if you will.
I chat with her a couple of times. She tells me her name, I crack a few jokes. We keep touching each other; it’s very flirty. I decide to ask for her number, even though she says she’s gonna keep coming to the bar (I’m well aware of how bad an idea it is to leave things to chance). However, when I go to ask for the number, I put my arm around her, lean in to whisper some silly come-on in her ear, and at the moment of truth–I hesitate.
For some reason, instead of asking for her number, I wind up saying goodnight. I don’t know if it’s because of all the other guys flirting with her (I hate competition) or if I’m suddenly nervous (unlikely, especially at that point), but for whatever reason I decide not to ask for the number. I figure it’s okay; I can always ask her the next time I see her.
I find out later that evening from Mad that apparently the girl and I play on the same team. Yes, she is a self-admitted lesbian (apparently she likes Latin girls). I’m actually stunned, because I have never hit on a lesbian without knowing she was a lesbian. It’s just never happened before. It’s not like I have flawless gaydar, but I usually am able to pick up on these things. And even if I don’t, I don’t usually mistake that a girl is into me when she’s not. I second-guess things too much for that.
So now, the next time I see her, instead of asking for her number, I plan to ask what she thought of last week’s episode of The L Word...
posted by Amy at 9:20 AM
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