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Throughout my high school career, the social interaction I had with female gender amounted to a grand total of zero.  I played Magic: The Gathering, tons of video games, and some tennis with my buddies.  In short, I was a huge geek.  Once college rolled around, I was blessed with a “friend with benefits” deal that I rode for about a year and a half before it inevitably ended in disaster.  From then on out, it was all about drunken hook ups.  Post college, I was completely lost.  Gone were the days of a large campus full of potential acquaintances and hook-up buddies.  At the ripe age of 22, it was time to enter the dating game.

So it goes:

It’s my friend’s 24th birthday, we decide to head to Hoboken to get dinner and go to a bar shortly after.  At the bar, I notice this chick of the white meat variety out of the corner of my eye, checking me out.

To prepare myself for an engagement, I march straight to the bar and order some drinks to bolster my liquid confidence.  Before I can finish my drink, a large black girl taps me on the shoulder and whispers “My friend thinks you’re cute.” I turn around and see that girl from before, shoot me a flirtatious smile.

I’m in, I think to myself.

I approach her with my new found swagger.  “Hi there, my name is Andrew.  Nice to meet you.” She replies “I’m [Gina].” I then proceed to hit on her with reckless abandon.

Soon enough, I am several drinks past my limit and dancing with Gina.  By dancing, I mean emphatically stomping out her feet and smashing my knees into her leg meanwhile all i can muster are clumsy apologies.  For some reason, I feel this is the most opportune moment to go in for a kiss, so I lean in.  This does not fare well as she dodges me faster than Neo evading bullets in The Matrix.

Rejected.

Discouraged I reconvene with my friends at the bar and sulk as I glance back and see her dancing with other guys.  Fearing a squandered opportunity, I tell myself “Fuck it.” With my determination fighting my innate awkwardness, I swim through the crowd of people and ask for her number.

“No” she replies flatly, sans an explanation.  At this point, I call it quits and start walking away until I feel a tug on my shirt.  I turn around and its Gina.  She says “If you give me YOUR number I will text YOU.” I call her a liar, but I still give it to her anyways and leave the bar.

The next day I wake up with a pounding hangover and receive 2 out of 3 very peculiar texts.

It was nice meeting you I had a lot of fun last night.

Me: likewise

Hi what are you up to?  I’m just outside with my friend sun bathing on the lawn.

Me: umm nothing much

Do you miss me?

Me: uh not really…I barely even know you

to be continued in part 2

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3 Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. […] gambled and lost you think you know, but you don’t know…nobody nose Me? « late bloomer– first date at age 22 part 1 […]

  2. […] 3, threesome, tila tequila This is part 3 of my first date story.  Part 1 and 2 can be found here and here […]

  3. By Candace Parker is hot « gambled and lost on 18 Jun 2009 at 2:50 pm

    […] up a woman to make love?  Given that I am a 5′10 skinny asian boy that recently went on his first date, she would probably dominate me in bed.  Well as you know, everybody loves an aggressive girl.  […]

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