I have been thinking how other perceve me. I've always seen myself as a nice guy, but no-one can be perfect. The perception I have can be very different from the truth. Take for instance, my darkest hour. The moment I realized I was socially inept.
It was the Quindanning races. I basically planned to head there with my brother and get drunk as usual. We loaded the car with two of his friends, one alright and one a complete fuckwit, and headed towards the camping ground. Once set up, we met with my brother's girlfriend (now his ex) and checked out the surroundings. The bar had a massive tree cut in half as...the bar...and served a limited range of beer and spirits designed to keep the reddest of necks happy.
A few drinks in, once the sun had set, I saw a girl that looked nice and seemed to be in high spirits. I don't know if I was drunk or had a confidence boost but I decided to talk to her. I decided to be honest and frank, because I was quite new to this whole 'confidence' fad, and couldn't really twist my words to sound sexual or flattering. So I walked up to the bar as if to order a drink, right next to her. Then I looked at her, waiting for eye contect to be made. At the time, it seemed like eye contect would open me to talk to her, but in hindsight, standing right next to her and staring at her wasn't the best opener. So once eye contact was made, I had to go and open my mouth.
"You're the most beautiful girl here".
Ok, I deserved a hammer to the face with the side designed to remove nails from for that one.
She replied with "That's really corny" to which, with my sexiest face on, replied "Well it's true". Now I should have been imprisioned. I should go back in time, and punch myself in the face. This continued for a short time, with me saying things and her being not interested. Although to me, with my sweaty, drunken state, she must have seemed interested.
She was about to go off and wake her friend up for some reason and asked if I was coming. This, to me, meant I was in. Hopes were set above what they should ever be set if your last name is Gibson. I went with her and awoke her sleeping friend, but lost her on the way back to the licensed area.
I went to enter back in, when I was stopped by about 4 guys. They were the worst kind of guys because they were obviously rednecks and stopping me.
"You've been stalking my cousin" one guy, whom I could not identify, said. At this I began to laugh.
"I'm not stalking anyone man, let me through".
They didn't let me through. They told me I have to leave or i'd get my teeth kicked in, then counted down from 4. From out of no-where the girl came and started hurling abuse at me "I've never seen her in my life," I stammered as my cowardice came out in true from, like a phoenix arising from poo. It didn't help much. I ran away.
About 2 mins into my walk of shame I gained confidence. I thought, "They can't do that," and "I'm allowed to enjoy my night". I've since learned i'm actually not allowed to.
I slinked into the main area again without being spotted. I wasn't going to try and "move" onto this girl again. I'd just sit down and drink at a table. They spotted me though, and this time one of the guys grabbed me in a headlock, about to smack me in the head. The bouncer seperated us, but not before Redneck McGee annunced to the bar I was a stalker and a creep. That was when I decided leaving was the best option. I high tailed it back to the car narrowly missing various twigs and rocks thrown at me by the furious redneck.
This was one of my various attempts at picking up that has led me to believe I can only pick up in confined areas or places where my personality is forced upon them. Personality is my strong suite, and I think that's why I hate nightclubs. I also think it's why I hear the friend remark so often when confessing my adoration to someone of the opposite sex. I'm too weird to come off as normal. I wish I was a bed.