Women Are Nervous to Talk to Guys Too
Oh. How I wish I could walk up to you right now.
I am sitting in a cozy chair reading through a book I just picked from the shelf.
To be specific, Chelsea Handlers newest book: Life Will Be the Death of Me. I look up from the book and I see a guy walk around the corner, he's looking at me, and I am looking right at him. The five seconds we shared felt like a solid minute. I quickly look back down to the book and he walks to a new isle.
" After all, if ninety percent of people were in relationships, then clealy I was special if I had managed to avoid one " I laughed. I feel you sister. I cannot even walk up and talk to a guy walking around in Barnes & Nobel. I think sold. Chelsea has made me laugh more in the five minutes of me reading through her book than I have all day.
I get up and walk back to the isle full of Self Growth books because I can admit, I need some fucking self growth in far more aspects of my life than Donald Trump. Okay. That's extreme - no one needs more help than that life sucking hole of a person.
There he is again! He's standing in front of the Romance section. Okay - so you're a handsome man in Barnes & Nobel, and you're looking through Romance novels. I make sure to walk towards the side where he can see me. I am looking through a book and decided it was useless information that I have already worked through on my own so I put the book back. I slowly search my eyes over the shelfs and I see a book that caught my interest "The Alcohol Experiment" because I drink way too fucking much and would love to try this challenge. As I pick the book up I see a head full of thick black hair on the opposite side of the row. It's him. Now he is looking through Self Growth books. Okay, now he wants me to see HIM! I take a few minutes so I don't seem desperate because I know he is watching as well. I walk to the other side and we are both in the same isle. He's looking on the left side and I started on the right side. I think, if you look in the middle you'll be too close, and you're too much of a chicken shit to do that. I pick up some stupid book I am not even interested in - I look over trying to peak through my hair. He has earbuds in. Is he listening to music or listening to my nervousness? That's all I can hear.
I grab a book and sit my self and belongings on the floor. Shit. The Alcohol Experiment is sitting right on top. Great, now he knows I drink too much. Talk about an ice breaker! What do I do? Put the book back and quickly leave the Isle.
I am taking myself back to the cozy chair asking myself why I am such a pussy. I sit back down and continue reading through a random chapter. I happen to look over and there he is walking by again. This time I see him passing betweeen two isles and we make eye contact. I don't know who is the bigger pussy here. Yes, I am interested in you, haven't spoke to you, and I have already called you a pussy.
I wonder if they will tell me I have to purchase the book if I sit here any longer I think - I get up to leave as I am casually scanning each corner in hopes we run into each other. I am standing In line and now I am looking over the books on the clearance table. I pick up " Feminism 100 Quotes " and I hear a soft voice in my left ear. He asks, what is that you're reading?
Because I am nervous and dumb I quickly say, like you really care what I am reading? He laughs at my serious but sarcastic reply.
He asks if I would like to sit at Starbucks and talk about the books we have chosen and I could not have said YES any quicker. I would love to see where your mental thought life takes you and what you choose to feed it with.
He's talking and all I can think, do you know I have written a whole story in my head about you?