"Could I get a frappuccino please?" I'm prolonging the eye contact, not looking away.
The cute, petite Thai barista smiles back at me from the other side of the counter. "What kind?"
So many places I could go with this. Let's see: "Decaf."
"Okay."
What the fuck was that? It's not done yet, I tell myself. I hand her my debit card. Our fingers touch for a second - a connection! She swipes the card for me. I punch in my PIN, hope I have enough. I get my receipt. I grab my frappuccino. I hate myself as I make the walk of shame to the lounge area.
Frappuccinos are good; my game is not. It's been months since I started my hiatus. I needed some time off. Nothing has changed.
It doesn't help being in a new city, alone, not knowing anybody. Sure, there are short interactions with strangers on the street. A nod to an overly talkative hobo. A quick interaction with a guy on a strange bike. Talking a drunk guy out of fucking with a skunk on the beach.
All of these micro-approaches don't amount to much. There isn't a payoff. I continue on down the street, we go our separate ways, there isn't any connection. There is no value to it. Every step I take I am in my own mind. I am conscious of certain things; hands at my sides, dominant posture, eye contact, energy in my step. These mean nothing without the balls to talk to people.
So here I am again. New Beginning version 5.0. Let's hope it amounts to something. I'm looking for a new place to start, something different, and I am willing to do absolutely anything to get where I want to be. Indeed, there are no excuses this time. I'm in a city of millions of women. I need to succeed.
Back again,
- Sharplin.
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