Grey's Journal:
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I decided to ask out ten random women this weekend. Recently, I have become aware that I am reverting back to my timid, high school personality. This is a Bad Thing. When I went to college, I made an enormous effort to be more extroverted, and I'm pleased to report it worked well. But in London, I feel I'm switching back. So, Operation 10 Girls would be my punishment, and my exercise. This is something stupid I do: I set wildly unrealistic goals. When I joined the gym, I decided to go twice a day, everyday. When I started martial arts, I wanted to do classes every night, in different styles. When I planned to move to London, I set the goal of being rich, famous, and universally loved by the entire Kingdom within a year of my arrival. And now, having never asked out a girl in my life, I decided to ask out 10 in 48 hours. (Let me take a moment to defend myself to readers who do not know me. I am not some Linux computer nerd who has never touched a woman. I have had girlfriends in the past, and currently have one, but I've never been on `a date'. This is the way my relationships have come about: I'm minding my own business, when the female friend I'm spending most of my time with, and have a crush on, grows weary of my inaction and proposes that we declare our couplehood to the world. I postpone a decision as long as possible, but eventually give in. Then, we hang out just like before, but with more kissing.) So right away, you and I can both see that my weekend goal was a bad idea. What motivated this act of idiocy was a sudden understanding of how huge London's population is. This mass of people provides a safety net of anonymity. In high school, there were 225 people in my graduating class, therefore everybody knew everybody else. In college, there were about 1,000 people in my class. Larger yes, but the small enough that your foolish actions would be noticed. Not here. London is the largest city in Europe. 7.1 million people, including 276,980 women in the 20 to 24 age group. I haven't seen the same person twice on the underground, or in the parks. So, who cares if I ask out some girl and she rejects me? I'll never see her again. Liberation. So now I'm walking around St. James's park, looking to ask out an attractive girl. Problem 1: I feel like a creepy, sexual predator. I'm looking at every girl and I feel like a weirdo. Is this what molesters do? Is this how they find a victim? That's not the category of people I care to be associated with. Problem 2: I have no idea how old these women are. College spoiled me. All the females in my proximity were inside the 18 to 22 age bracket. The only women who were outside this range were easy to tell apart because they were assigning me homework. As a result, I never developed the part of my brain that approximates a woman's age. There was no need. Wandering through the park, I discover the best I can do is place women into one of two categories: [Between 15 and 30] or [Not between 15 and 30]. Whatever. So, I sat down near this girl. Brown hair, dorky, with glasses. She was also writing on a pad of paper. She sorta made eye contact, and we sorta smiled at each other several times. I pretended to write on my pad of paper, while formulating a plan. `This is a stupid idea,' said my brain. `I know, but we need to do something extroverted. We've fallen out of practice.' I replied. `I'm uncomfortable,' said my brain. `Are you going to help at all?' I asked. `No.' Great. Without my brain providing assistance, the best I could come up with was `Just ask her out'. I tried to build up the courage by thinking of my personal hero, Richard Feynman. He wouldn't care. Feynman would just walk up and ask her. No problem. As I began to get up, my brain moved to sabotage the mission. `Just how old is she?' it whispered. I had confidently placed her in the 15 to 30 bracket, but I was beginning to worry that she was a lot closer to the 15 side of the spectrum. I would ask her out, and with giddy excitement, she would accept. I want to see Terminator 3, but she wants to see Spy Kids 3. During dinner, I would find out that her favorite cartoon is Powerpuff Girls and that when she grows up she wants to be a fairy princess. `But that's not the point', I told myself. The point is to break out of introvert mode. I packed my stuff and walked toward her... she looked up and smiled... then... I freaked out... and walked right past her. Strike one. I tried not to admonish myself too harshly. After all, it was my first try. So, I made a lap around the park and settled myself near another brunette. Not dorky, no glasses, but she looked fiercely intelligent, so it was OK. Same routine. I pull out a book and pretend to read. But, as things would happen, I felt I overcompensated from my first choice of a girl. This one was in the 15-30 category as well, but there was a grown up feeling about her. She might be 28. People that old have real lives. What an awkward date that would make. "So, what do you do?" "I'm a successful lawyer for an international firm. I make £70,000 a year. What do you do?" "I'm an unemployed grad student. I spend a lot of time in the park." "Oh... What are your career plans?" "I don't know. I think corporations are evil, and I don't want to work for someone else, so my options are limited." "Do you have a trust fund to support you?" "Nope." "Ah. I guess you won't be paying for my dinner then?" "Yeah, about that..." "I'm leaving." Once again, I reminded myself that the horrible date to come was not the point. Doing something stupid, random and extroverted was the point. Just as with the first girl, I packed my stuff, walked up to her... and walked right by. Strike two. What's the problem? I sat down and thought it through and I realized I don't really want to ask these girls out. I don't want to go on a date. But the English language lacks an appropriate word for my intentions. The questions I wanted to ask were: `Want to hang out with me? Want to see if we could be friends?' First, asking for a date implies I want to get married to you in a few years, or have sex with you in a few hours. Neither of these is what I'm looking for. Second, asking the girl out is unfairly lopsided. She doesn't know anything about me. I could be a total psychopath, and I'm asking for her time without offering her any security in return. Falling back on game theory, I realized that it is my responsibility to be initially altruistic. But how? I spent some time working on a plan... On the underground ride home, a cute, glasses-sporting brunette sat across from me. As an additional bonus, she was reading Ender's Game. Perfect. Here was the plan: guerrilla strike. Get in, get the job done, and get out quick. I wrote my email and web page on a piece of paper and ran over the script in my mind. "Excuse me?" "Yes?" "I've just moved to London and I'm trying to get to know people. I'd like to hang out with you sometime." "Um..." "Don't answer now, but here's my web page. You can see what kind of guy I am, and drop me a note if you want to do something. Anyway, this is my stop. Have a nice day." So, I'm getting ready to spring into action. The underground train starts to decelerate. My stop is next. I open my mouth to speak, but she throws Ender's Game into her bag and stands up. Damn it. This is her stop too. There goes my plan. Strike three. * * *
Let's review the weekend. Goal: Ask out 10 women. Result: 0 out of 10 asked. As expected. Now, I'm going to take a moment to clear up some questions. "Hey, Grey! Don't you already have a beautiful, sexy, fun, intelligent, American girlfriend who, in spite of your numerous flaws, still loves you?" Yes I do. But, in addition to being all those qualities, she is also a rational human being. (So far, a unique quality in my relationships with women) It is something I dearly love her for. She is a year younger than me and still attending college (lucky brat) back in the States. She's had a huge crush on me since she first saw me (understandably) and our relationship developed just as I described above. I complained and postponed the inevitable, but when I finally gave in, I was a much happier person because of `Darby'. She is going to Prague for a semester. We decided that for the year apart it would be good for the two of us to freely date other people without guilt. Oddly, she actually wants me to date other women. Particularly someone who is `mouthy' and doesn't put up with all my crap so I can better understand how good I have it with her. "Hey, Grey! You're an idiot. You plan on asking out random girls, and then giving them your web page with this page explaining what you are doing. Don't you think that's a stupid idea?" Yup. I agree. But, I want to be honest in this journal. At least they will know my intentions. <Shamelessly asking for date> So, if you're a cute, dorky, glasses wearing, brunette in London, email me! If you lack these qualities, I'm willing to over look them if you can tell me what's the deal with the words in brackets around this paragraph, or if you find any of these jokes funny. : ) <\Shamelessly asking for date> Leave a comment, send an email or join my
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Copyright © 2003 Wellington Grey  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
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