July 18: What's in a Number?

You're at a bar having a good time with your friends. The music is bumpin' and the adrenaline is pumpin'. There might be some sports highlights on a nearby screen and everyone seems to be in a fairly jovial mood.

A group of girls comes in and one of them catches your eye. You let her settle in and get a drink. You face your group of friends but your focus is on the girl. You observe her take notice when you make a joke. She's listening, but keeping her distance.

Finally, you work up the nerve to break the ice by saying something dumb like, "What're you drinkin' there?" She answers and just like that you find yourself having a light-hearted conversation with a complete stranger. Suddenly time shifts into overdrive and before you know it, your group of friends is ready to move on. You let your new friend know that you have to go, but that you want to continue the conversation so you ask for her number.

You make little jokes about how you've never met someone with so many 3's in her number or how this is the first phone number you've ever received. Once you have the tenth digit (area code included), you press send which calls her phone and in turn, gives her your number. You say your goodbyes and you walk away with a little extra skip in your step after successfully closing the deal.

Fast forward a few days. Fast forward to a time when you're sober and alone at home. Fast forward to a time where you barely remember what she looked like or how she sounded when she laughed. Fast forward to you holding your phone and searching through your contacts until you find her first name with the name of the bar where you met in parenthesis. Fast forward to you sitting with the receiver just grazing your ear as the distant ring sends sound waves bouncing against your drum.

Is there anything more awkward than that first conversation? I'm not exaggerating either. The first time you dial the number and she picks up has got to be right up there with sitting naked in homeroom. Maybe it's because I'm a complete turd and know absolutely nothing about talking to girls, but I never have anything intelligent to say after, "Hey, it's Brandon from the bar."

I was just thinking about you and thought I would call. Pathetic. Well, it's been three days since I received your number and here I am calling you. Laughable. I could use a cold beer and thought about places that sell beers and I thought about the bar I was at three days ago and remembered meeting you and getting your number and now I'm calling you. It's as good as anything else I have.

There is always the rhetorical, "Hey, how's it going?" question. I think we all know how I feel about these questions, but I always answer the same way: "Great, how are you?" This always leads to her saying that she's been busy with blah blah blah or yadda yadda yadda which turns into a conversation where I ask her everything about the activity. Before I know it, she's told me a half an hour worth of material and I've recited nothing about what I've been up to.

I don't think I'm complaining because I hate talking about myself. (I'd rather write a blog about myself every day for a year....) These conversations are funny because she always ends up telling me some pretty personal things (Mom was just diagnosed with Parkinson's, Dad's an alcoholic, Step Dad used to scream obscenities at her and her mom, etc. etc.). I don't know if it's my expert ways of asking probing questions or my fantastic listening skills, but on more than one occasion a girl has said, "Now that you know my life story, what about you?"

Come to think of it, this first conversation isn't all that bad. Sure they all start the same and I can't stand monotony, but I end up listening to some pretty interesting things. I rarely have to worry about stuttering and stammering because she's doing all the talking. No, those initial phone conversations aren't that bad at all. Now if I could only work up the nerve to go and talk to more girls...