September was a drab month. My summer vacation ended mid way through September. Two fucking days of bus all the way from Eastern Europe to Lyon gave me blotted feet which freaked me out. No big deal, I was back running around like a happy dog in a few days. Here I was, back at my friend’s gigantic apartment where I had the whole living room to myself. I was jobless, still am, but not a man in desperation. I would wake up the next morning, turn on my dusty computer which has been serving me tirelessly for the past few years and look for jobs that would suit me, or that I would suit in. It was tiresome, with a master’s degree in engineering people expect you to play by the same rules all the time. You graduate, send the same CV and resume that every other blockhead graduate would send. The HR then filters the uncanny blockheads such as me and interviews the genuine one’s. You then go through several unworthy procedure, earn yourself a small cubicle among an office full of experienced blockheads. Office hours, 9 to 5, you go back home with a slouched back, tired and unhappy with your life.
Couple of months ago I was swimming in the vague current that would bring be to that very path. Letter after letters, call after calls. In June, a young lady working for an up coming engineering company was very kind to give way to my pestering and decided to interview me. I never heard from her again except for a short mail with a negative reply. Lying back on my bed, I pondered and pondered, not too long of course, I knew that I wanted to write. The rage to write was instilled in me a long time ago, but worthless commitments took away the desires to nestle with the words that would perk up in my brain. But now, I had time in my hand, nobody to stop me but me and only me. All I have to do is invest my time and skill and be rewarded with a lump of cash which would surely not bloat my back account any time soon. I signed up and tried my luck, some of my proposal was considered but nothing came up. I then decided to try my hands on dock shipping and site flipping. Everything backfired, there is no way to make quick money, and I decided to lock my heels on writing and freelancing.
Well, all these trial and errors with various money fabricating methods were onerous and harshly long. Damn those people who make buck loads of money in a short spin. Being a normal human being I took it step by step. Still looking for my first project, but I am a realist optimist. Good times aren’t far ahead. Speaking about normal human being, well, all work and no play makes a tiger angry and wild. I nearly became one. I approached probably 5 girls during this period. My game went stall. I had to get my ass out and that is just what I did. My first approach after the lay off was a petite French Moroccan, a lawyer and she was receptive. She complimented me for being smart and funny, the vibe was good but for some unknown reason I did not number close her. I did another 2 sets that day, ended up FB closing a local girl who was reluctant of my kino. There was a small hunch of approach anxiety creeping back in but this set vanquished all the doubts I had on nervousness after a break from day game. However, the same girl ignored my friend request and I would not make a big fuss about that, not anymore.
My second session of the week was on a sunny but quite chilly Wednesday evening. My first two sets were cold blow outs, but not spine chilling cold by any means. My 3rd set ended in a Facebook close. A HB6 at the most, dressed prominently in pink, I opened her by complimenting her look alike to a pink doll. She was receptive, a good set but something was missing, something I could not just point my finger to. I avoided adding her in facebook knowing from my previous experience. My next set was a HB 8. A tall slender office girl taking big strides like a lioness preying on a bull. She was giving mone-wordrd reply, two at the most. She has a boyfriend and was reluctant in giving me her number. The set ended and I sent her on her way. The next 3 sets were roadblocks. Sun was soon setting, the air getting colder and street being filled with gradual emptiness. I spotted a girl crossing me, a small plaster at the corner of her right eye. She was dressed in a long red coat with a small black sports bag in her hand. She was a 7 for me. I chased her and opened her from the side, complimenting on her attire and inquiring about the small wound I spotted earlier.
There were instant chemistry, looking into her shiny eyes there was a twinkling spark. She moved two steps closer towards me. For some reason I have been approaching girls in English before switching to French and the trend continued. She is a dancer on her way to buy a scarf that would keep a tiny body warm before hitting the dance class. I saw ROI from her, questions, she asking me. I saw attraction and decided to build comfort and rapport. I took the chance to do some escalation. I brushed her hair lightly like a soft breezy wind blowing past without any resistance. She did not show any discomfort. We talked mostly about travels and books. She even visited my birth country which gave more baits to latch on. The set was a bout to end. I was confident about the number close. Dang!!! She refused to pass me her number. I was confused, she was resisting, but not moving away from me. I held her hand for a while until she pulled it away. There were no signs of discomfort and I sensed a girl who wants to be chased. The shield could been shattered if I had not been rusty as I were.
The set died, I walked away, took the subway and returned home. Thinking about it, my inability to persist was the turning point here. Something that has been poking me in the head since the last few months. Or was she enjoying some free harmless attention that I was pouring on her. I was also hesitant during my escalations. With a bit more confidence, I could have done wonders. I went out again on Friday, bad day to go out; I had done it before and will never learn. I took a mid afternoon nap that left me with a groggy head. For some reason I did only 4 sets which went to the graveyard. My vibe was bad, I stopped a girl who only spoke French, I struggled to muster any word in French despite my fluency. Everything was wrong today, my energy, busy people preparing for the weekend and the ever decreasing temperature. I was angry at myself. It was a shitty day and for someone who had done around 700 sets, days like this are big headaches which evoked disgrace when I look myself at the mirror. Next week has to be different, very different.