Talking to girls don’t seem that tough to some guys but for others it is like preparing for a battle. I was one of these guys. I used to walk up to a girl only to pass by her and not look back. My friends teased the hell out of me for that one. I had my reasons. Which girl would talk to a guy who was looking everywhere else except at her and had sweaty palms and stuttered his way through a sentence? None. Well, I got over my apprehensions and nervousness with age and practice and loads of help from friends but still there were times when I wished I could be one with the floor.
I observed my friend Carl a lot. He is this smooth talker who goes up to a girl and gets her giggling in no time. I have never seen any girl give Carl one of their frosty looks. I am quite acquainted with the frosty looks; I used to get a lot of them. I noticed that Carl was always confident and never praised the girl too much. He never said what the girl was already expecting from him. He went with the element of surprise. It is an art, guys, and I still haven’t got that right but I noticed that girls like to be intrigued rather than flattered. They also like interesting conversation; specially ones in which they can talk a whole lot. We all know how women can go on and on and on about nothing. Well, Carl used to give them something to go on about. That pleased them. Carl appeared to be an intent listener and they loved that. Well, I knew better but I wasn’t gonna spill, was I?
There was this party where I saw a lovely girl wearing a flowing red dress. She was standing next to a guy I knew and I thought he’d be able to introduce me. As it turned out he did not know her and just happened to stand by her. I thought I would give it a shot and introduce myself to her. It wasn’t as if she’d slap me or anything. If anything went wrong, it did not matter as I would not see her again either way. So I walked up o her with two glasses of wine and said, “ I noticed you were standing alone without company or a drink, so I came to offer you both.” I waited for a reply; be it positive or negative. I was expecting the latter. To my immense surprise, she smiled at me and even took the offered glass of wine. Now that I had gotten a positive reply, I was nervous as anything. Yet, the evening rolled out; not so smoothly as I would have hoped but nevertheless I had a date for next Friday. Oh, did I mention it was Carl’s party?