Update Time

Today at lunch, a bar/restaurant we frequent was having what could best be termed a bad day, and as a result we waited quite some time for our food, which the waitress was nice enough to cover for us.  This didn’t seem right to me, as the waitress really hadn’t done anything wrong.  So before we left I waited to make sure that we didn’t need to pay.  My coworkers had already left to get back to work, so I was left to do this on my own, and the waitress (who admittedly was somewhat busy) seemed a bit short when saying that yes, we were covered, and she would talk to her boss.  In my head, I figured she was short because she thought that I was staying back to talk to her alone, rather than any irritation she might have at the shitty day she was having because of the cook who was fucking things up in the back.

This might give you some idea of the neuroses I’m dealing with here.

A couple of weeks back I wrote a post talking about the “assignment” my shrink had given me.  Basically, don’t look at women as sexual objects until our next appointment.  Simply put, it’s been fucking hard.

I’ve made some changes.  I deleted the dating site apps from my phone and the bookmarks on my browser; these would be something of security blankets if I got bored while just sitting on the couch or waiting for something to download.  Quick click, see who’s visited me…get depressed.  So I haven’t looked at those in a few weeks.

I’ve tried to keep my eyes forward at bars, but there have been times when just looking straight ahead is disrupted by an attractive bartender coming into my line of sight.  I’ve tried to ignore the fact that women are present somewhere, but when you’re talking about Spartan and Lion tailgates and Tigers games and a day out on the boat, it’s trickier than you’d think.

I’ve gotten a lot of support from the people who know what I’m trying to do, but there are still some points that are frustrating.  One friend told me she wouldn’t be sleeping with me.  Understandable, not surprising, but also not great for my shitty self-esteem.  I also don’t recall it being a topic of conversation, but I digress.

And I stopped pursuing the two women I’d been talking to at the time.  Admittedly, one was going through some pretty major family issues and I wasn’t going to be a priority and the other, through some odd coincidence, was someone I’d connected with on a dating site and had run into at my favorite watering hole where the owner and one of the bartenders had referred to her as “The Lifesucker”.  I don’t think either of these women would prove to be the love of my life.

One of the major problems is that I’ve put off the gym and kickboxing because, well, there are girls there.  And not only are there girls there, there are girls there in skin-tight outfits that leave little to the imagination.

When I walked out of my shrink’s office that day, I invoked the famous Seinfeld episode where George couldn’t have sex for a period of time and as a result turned into a borderline genius because he could focus on other things.  It hasn’t exactly turned out that way.

(Tangent: My friends compare me to Costanza, which I loathe, because I hated the guy.  The comparisons are apt though.  At the same time, George was getting laid in almost every episode.  It made no sense.  I also don’t have the confidence to do the whole “do the opposite of what you’d normally do” thing.)

Simply put, I don’t feel any different.  I haven’t noticed any change.  I still feel like the same old creeper I felt like a few weeks ago when I first wrote about this.

When I graduated from college I was very embarrassed about a lot of the things I did, and that continued for quite some time.  That’s not the case anymore.  If friends of mine don’t like the funny quotes I see on Twitter, that’s their problem, not mine.  Funny’s funny, as I like to say.  Same thing with message board conversations.  It opens up the world to points of view you don’t always get.  People would make me feel embarrassed about those things.  Now I don’t care.

But at the same time, I wonder if this particular “project” was something I should’ve kept to myself.  As the old saying (sort of) goes, don’t announce your intentions, it’ll only make God laugh.  This was one of those rare cases where I did (you can’t fail at what you didn’t shoot for).  There was no end point here, only a different frame of mind, but it seems I’m still a long way off.

I’m a firm believer that the first thing a guy does when he meets a woman is determine if he wants to sleep with her.  If he tells you otherwise he’s lying or gay.  I don’t believe women do the same thing, because, well, men are gross.  So they have to make their decisions based on personality and charm, things I am not necessarily lacking in, but they don’t come off at first blush (I grow on people…most people hate me when they first meet me).  Considering the number of women I’ve slept with, or turned down the opportunity to sleep with, you would think that I’d have a bit more confidence in this area.

No one’s really asked for an update on this, and considering it’s September 11 I probably could’ve written something a little less self-centered, but I haven’t written something in a while, and the only other thing on my mind is my 2016 presidential campaign plans, and that’s going to take a lot more work than one night creates.

So for those of you who like the occasional witty/humorous posts I put up here every 3 months who are unsatisfied by this self-centered update, I offer you the greatest picture the Interwebz has ever given us.

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