What I did tonight was monumental. No, I did not hook up, nor did I get laid. What I did tonight was much more important to me than that. And no, it does not involve a girl for whom I seem to have a case of one-itis.

A kegger. My firend's kegger. A kegger full of rugby players. A kegger in which for every girl, there was 5 guys. Guys twice the size of me, with their shirts off, on a varsity team, and with much better looks. My wingmen: Two of my most incompetent friends (as loveable as they are). It is hard to imagine it being any worse; the odds could not have been stacked any more against me - it was as thought the universe did not want me to succeed. Yet somehow, despite all this, despite everything that was against me, including a very preliminary introduction to knowledge of the game, despite being the smallest guy there, despite ruthless competition (the rugby guys were trying to fuck up my game), despite a wingman as counterproductive as a big sign that says 'I'm a douchebag' on my forehead, despite my naturally timid demeanour, I, gentlemen, number-closed. I should also mention that she was (disputably) the hottest girl there, and for me at least, an HB8, and two years older (just graduated university).

I closed in the most unlikely of circumstances, got a number, a date for next week, but more importantly, a taste of what is possible. While this may seem trivial to some, tonight, I will go to bed alone; alone and more content that I could be with any possible girl in my bed. Tonight, I closed. And I liked it.

Good to be here gentlemen; game on.