Didn't you babe?
October 2006
I have been in Cyprus now for five weeks. I managed to secured a contract to work here, and traveled out with high expectation, thinking this small island might be a land of milk and honeys.
Unfortunately, things have not worked out as I’d hoped. In the first week, I didn’t as much as talk to a woman. The highlight of the second week was when a woman, at least ten years my senior, bought me a drink in the hotel bar. Two days later that same woman, Barbara, her best friend, and a guy called John, who was trying to chat them up, invited me to join them at the Step Inn, the liveliest local pub and disco.
My problem was simple. Whenever I saw a woman I liked, or who I thought liked me, I became almost paralised, I couldn’t offer anything more than the weakest of smiles. The problem was me. I just didn’t know where to start.
Barbara pointed to the girl who was stood on my right. ‘She keeps looking at you’ she said, ‘talk to her’. ‘No’ I said.
‘What’ she looked at me in disbelief. ‘Tonight, we are going to fix you up’ she said. ‘You are a good looking guy. I want you to enjoy Cyprus. You could take that girl home tonight. Just talk to her. Do you want me to talk to her for you?’
John joined in, ‘come on’ he said, ‘what’s the matter?’
What could I say? ‘I’m shy’ I tried to make a joke of it.
‘Why don’t I pretend that you’re my son? I could introduce you to a few girls’ John offered.
Imagine the humiliation.
So the weeks have slipped by, and I have remained celibate in Cyprus. I did eventually find the courage to ask a couple of girls out, but my approach was so blunt and humourless that my offers met with rejection.
I started telling myself that the pubs and night clubs are not my scene, that the hotel was only full of old people, that the town was empty since the tourist season was over. All of which are in part true. But I have to admit that, the problem is with me. I don’t know how to approach women, I fear rejection.
It doesn’t matter how many emails my friend David sends me. Although I know that in essence he is right.
Oh Maggie, I remember how easy it was with you. You made it easy. I didn’t have to do much, you made it happen, didn’t you babe?
I have been in Cyprus now for five weeks. I managed to secured a contract to work here, and traveled out with high expectation, thinking this small island might be a land of milk and honeys.
Unfortunately, things have not worked out as I’d hoped. In the first week, I didn’t as much as talk to a woman. The highlight of the second week was when a woman, at least ten years my senior, bought me a drink in the hotel bar. Two days later that same woman, Barbara, her best friend, and a guy called John, who was trying to chat them up, invited me to join them at the Step Inn, the liveliest local pub and disco.
My problem was simple. Whenever I saw a woman I liked, or who I thought liked me, I became almost paralised, I couldn’t offer anything more than the weakest of smiles. The problem was me. I just didn’t know where to start.
Barbara pointed to the girl who was stood on my right. ‘She keeps looking at you’ she said, ‘talk to her’. ‘No’ I said.
‘What’ she looked at me in disbelief. ‘Tonight, we are going to fix you up’ she said. ‘You are a good looking guy. I want you to enjoy Cyprus. You could take that girl home tonight. Just talk to her. Do you want me to talk to her for you?’
John joined in, ‘come on’ he said, ‘what’s the matter?’
What could I say? ‘I’m shy’ I tried to make a joke of it.
‘Why don’t I pretend that you’re my son? I could introduce you to a few girls’ John offered.
Imagine the humiliation.
So the weeks have slipped by, and I have remained celibate in Cyprus. I did eventually find the courage to ask a couple of girls out, but my approach was so blunt and humourless that my offers met with rejection.
I started telling myself that the pubs and night clubs are not my scene, that the hotel was only full of old people, that the town was empty since the tourist season was over. All of which are in part true. But I have to admit that, the problem is with me. I don’t know how to approach women, I fear rejection.
It doesn’t matter how many emails my friend David sends me. Although I know that in essence he is right.
Oh Maggie, I remember how easy it was with you. You made it easy. I didn’t have to do much, you made it happen, didn’t you babe?
posted by something from me at 11:02 am
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