Tales Of A Serial Singleton: The Fear Of Missing Out.
You’re on a bus, minding your own business. Suddenly, you make eye contact with a girl. A girl you immediately find attractive. You hold her gaze. She keeps yours. There’s a strong chance she’s not just staring at a rogue bit of toothpaste around your mouth. Yet you do nothing.
This happened to me only last week. Even after she exited the bus and gave me a suggestive smile and hopeful wave, I still sat there comatose, quietly chastising myself for not jumping off the bus to introduce myself. I’m literally kicking myself at not taking action. I glumly shared my tale of woe of friends and received rueful, sympathetic looks of recognition. It seems men are united in our lack of decisiveness.
If you’re smugly separating yourself from our band of lily-livered mutes, picture this scenario and be honest. You’re in a club, surrounded by merry friends and enjoying your evening. You spot a girl across the bar. Immediately thoughts start multiplying. She looks nice, she looks like someone you’d like to take out, she looks like a potential girlfriend, she looks like a future wife, she looks like the mother of your children. Both fueled and crippled by the faux confidence the evening’s alcohol has provided, do you: a) Ignore the urge. She’ll doubtless dismiss your clumsy advance. b) Employ a member of your group to approach and gauge interest. c) Throw caution to the wind and advance. If you’re currently mumbling “a)” or “b)”, you’re not alone. If you’re a “c)”, congratulations. I hate your confidence.
But I’ve started to consider the odds facing men in this situation. Since most men are likely to shy away from approaching a stranger for fear of rejection, is it not feasible to believe that an unexpected yet unobtrusive approach from a genuine guy could actually produce favourable results? After all, the guys who study at the ‘Ask Enough Girls, One’s Bound To Give In’ school are usually the only guys that most girls are likely to encounter in such a situation. What if these nice, intelligent girls are thinking exactly the same as us? That they’re just dying for nice, intelligent guys to make themselves known and sick of the cocky, boozed-up braggarts being the only potential suitors brave enough to step forward. Surely this could be an Actual Thing, right?
Such is my belief in this crude formula that I’ve vowed to seize the moment. More proactive. Bolder. Braver. More productive. When I spot someone I like, I shall no longer allow the moment to fade and concede defeat to my pathetic fear.
I can’t claim to know this for sure, but in a city such as London, you seldom see the same person twice, let alone thrice so I’m making it my mission to be more proactive. When I spot someone I like, I’m no longer going to let the moment pass, giving in to the all-consuming fear. And if for some reason I do, I’ll be sure to overcome this if by luck, I happen to see them again. I’m no believer in fate but coincidence, that’s hard to knock. What’s the most terrible thing that could happen? Well, she could laugh in my face, somehow discover my name and document my humiliation across various social media, but that’s just my irrational fear talking. Don’t listen to that, reader. Let’s be bold together. Who’s with me?