A Journal Of Little Consequence Based on a true story.

Sunday, February 15, 2004   (Saturday night's entry) I went out clubbing for the first time in my life. I had avoided it in the past, having thought of it as being forbidden, and reserved for the "real people". However, as I have been demolishing the barriers between myself and the world "out there" for about two years now, I accepted my colleague D.(b)'s invitation to join him at one of his regular haunts. I decided that I would not place too much weight on the exercise. I would not go in expecting to meet the love of my life; I was just going to immerse myself in the envionment. However, I did tell D.(b) that I expected him to demonstrate his techniques for approaching women. I think that my putting D.(b) on the spot made him a little self-conscious, and I still await a good illustration of his methods. My own nervousness whenever he looked like he was about to make a move might have rubbed off on him a little as well. I had gotten myself so much into the frame of mind that this night was not going to be about meeting women that I was completely taken by surprise when an attractive woman came over to me at one point to introduce herself. I imagined that D.(b), his friend whom we had met there and myself were simply in her way, and that she was trying to get past. After a few bewildered glances, she went away. D.(b) explained to me what had been going on, and pushed me in her direction. We tried to get into a conversation, but the woman made a poor attempt at pretending that she was French and did not understand English. In hindsight, I think that she might have done this because she felt a little embarrassed, having taken the plunge to approach me, and received my rather nonplussed response at her doing so. I felt a little bad for effectively giving her the cold shoulder in this way, and shall try to improve my judgment in these matters. My record of dealing with signs of interest could certainly be improved upon; thus far, I have either baulked at or grossly misconstrued each and every attempt that women have made to get intimate with me. This must stop! In retrospect, it was hardly a surprise that the whole club experience was not the huge challenge that I had imagined it to be. I actually had a very good time, and it was exciting to be in that setting, which was, I realised, merely a place where people came to enjoy themselves. That night, I managed to overcome a lifetime of inhibition, and joined in on the dancefloor. I had prepared for this in advance by studying the movements of my dance guru. posted by grover | Sunday, February 15, 2004 Wednesday, February 11, 2004   J. asked my advice as to what course of action to take regarding a shy man she had been corresponding with through the internet personals. She could not understand why he was so nervous and reluctant to speak with her on the telephone. I explained that if she wanted results, she could attain them by taking the initiative and calling him herself, but she would not be able to get him to call her, as that was his decision. However, I warned her that because their getting together would be the result of her efforts, rather than the man getting over his own hang-ups, she would to an extent be mollycoddling him. posted by grover | Wednesday, February 11, 2004 Wednesday, February 04, 2004   Having decided to not be so completely relativistic in my approach to life, I have given out an unprecedented number of "bollockings" lately, and have been labelled as "harsh" by more than one person. Today was M.'s turn as I called him to tell him that I would not be accepting any more disrespect from him. Frankly, I had been expecting more resistance, and was unprepared for his apology and agreement that I was right, so I remained somewhat harsh to the end of the conversation, signing off with the assertion that he could call me if he wished, but that I would not be calling him. In retrospect, it would have been better to end on a positive note, something about my valuing his friendship. posted by grover | Wednesday, February 04, 2004		links my life in prose contact archives