How Not to Get Laid

The good thing about totally giving up on women is that it gives you a lot of freedom. For instance, if you want to go see a movie about “The Band”, you don’t have to worry that your date will find it boring or say “what band?” or something equally disappointing. So when the Band’s “The Last Waltz” was playing at the local cineplex, I jumped at the opportunity. To be safe, I chose a Friday matinee to avoid the embarrassment of going to a movie by myself, surrounded by happy couples.

As I was buying my ticket, a beautiful woman, around my age, walked up to the window next to me and bought a ticket for the same exact show. She, too, was alone.

Now I’m thinking: this is a sign from God. There I was, feeling like a loser for going to this movie by myself on a Friday afternoon, and in walks a woman with the same idea. And she’s gorgeous.

So I go into the theater and it’s, of course, completely empty. Not five minutes after taking my seat, she comes in and sits right next to me. I am astonished. She places the obligatory one seat between us, but besides that, she has, in effect, decided to join me.

As I wait for the movie to start, I take stock of the situation: two young strangers, sitting in a dark theater, brought together by music that has all but been forgotten by our generation.
Nothing to stop the PERFECT PICK-UP.

All I need to do is talk to her. We must have so much in common: the music, the lack of a day job, the willingness to go to a movie alone. Easy. Simple.

Just say something.

As I’m thinking to myself how easy this will be once I come up with a conversation starter, the previews begin.

Realizing I have missed a window of opportunity, I continue to assess the situation: Maybe I could still pull something together. People talk over the previews all the time, right? But two strangers?

As the feature begins, another window closes. I start to panic. What can I possibly do now? I certainly can’t start talking in the middle of this magical concert. Maybe if I just show her how much I’m into this music she’ll be impressed. I close my eyes, nod my head a bit to the music, softly say “wow” to myself as Bob Dylan finishes playing “Forever Young” with The Band.

At this point, I really don’t know what I’m expecting from this. Doubtful she will be so moved by my interest in the music that she’ll scribble down her number and thrust it into my hand. Maybe she’ll decide she just HAS to say something to me and relieve me of this burden of silence.

She doesn’t.

My heads spins as I try to concentrate on the movie I came to see. I simultaneously berate myself again and again for being so weak-willed and so desperate. I must do something.
As the credits start, I realize I have a split second after the lights came up to say something before she stands up and leaves my life forever.

That split second comes. It goes. She goes.

The end.

Submitted by Greg, Brooklyn, NY

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