Yesterday, I posted a “Wordless Wednesday” photo from this last Saturday. As some of you might have guessed, it’s pretty clear I was striking out hard with a girl I was hitting on at a bar called Changes. What you don’t know is that I’ve been striking out a lot lately. Three times in two weeks to be exact, and these are those stories.

The first girl I met at a karaoke night. She sang the first song of the night and belted out “Don’t Rush.” As someone who is unabashedly obsessed with Kelly Clarkson, I was pretty smitten from the start. Karaoke-girl was also gorgeous so I was actually too nervous to approach her, which is rare. I did manage to get her number and texted her a couple days later, using a bit of flattery to ask her out on a date. I said “Seeing as you are beautiful, funny, a great singer, single and supposedly a good cook, I’d regret it if I didn’t ask if you’d be interested in going to drinks with me sometime?” I spent entirely too long composing that text message, but she actually said yes. We went on a drinks date and I thought it went well because I managed to set up a second date by the time I left the first.

Unfortunately, the second date was set up for the following week and by the end of the weekend, I could tell she was probably going to cancel… And she did cancel. Or supposedly she rescheduled but I wasn’t optimistic. So I went out! It was Pride week and that’s just what you do (when the you in this sentence is gay as shit).

I went to Taco Tuesday at the Wildrose. Right when I arrived, I ran into a very pretty girl I knew through the Cougar and stopped to say hello. She commented on how great my boobs looked (Don’t they always?) and gave them a couple of squeezes. We’re flirting and guess who should walk up but karaoke-girl. So we now have the Cougar’s friend, karaoke-girl and me. At this point in the evening, I’m incredibly confused as to who to flirt with. Technically karaoke-girl and I still have a second date scheduled but I had the feeling she wasn’t that into me. The safest option would have been to not flirt with either, cut my losses and leave, but I like a challenge so I try to subtly juggle both. Drunk me clearly has entirely too much confidence.

I went out again the next night (it was pride and I’m gay as shit, remember?) and ran into karaoke-girl again. That’s when it got real weird.

She was convinced one of my friends called her a bitch, which didn’t actually happen. So I texted her the next morning, in the clear light of day, and let her know that whatever she thought happened, didn’t. She then informed me “I don’t want to come off as a bitch, but maybe I am because I am not being super clear. I’m not looking for anything serious. But would really like to get to know you as a friend. I think you’re awesome” Not surprising at all. I knew it was coming but it was still a bummer because she was, you know, cute, cool and fun.

Strike One!

But I also couldn’t resist the temptation to send her this:

By the Pride parade Sunday, I had been talking to the Cougar’s friend here and there and we had plans to meet at the Wildrose later that night. As soon as I showed up, we chatted long enough for her to tell me that she had actually made out with karaoke-girl that night the three of us hung out. Major burn.

But, remember, drunk me is entirely too confident. I was convinced the Cougar’s friend had been flirting with me and I was not going to give up. By the end of the night, I leaned in to kiss her and she swiftly gave me the cheek. I apologized and she informed me that drunken make-outs just “weren’t really her thing.”

I would have bought it if a friend hadn’t pointed out that she had actually drunkenly made out with karaoke-girl earlier that week. Good points. But when I strike out, I strike out hard so I texted her the next day and asked if she wanted to go to a movie. She didn’t answer my question and actually just responded to something else I had said. Right. Got it. I’ll stop trying now.

That’s Strike Two!

The third girl I met this last Saturday. I walked into Changes with 4 friends but immediately left them when I saw a table with two potential lesbians. It’s a gay bar but there aren’t often gay women there so I friended their guy friends in order to ask.

I was told that the two of them were, indeed, lesbians and that they weren’t dating but had something “complicated” going on. Overly-confident drunk Kim was out that night in full force so I stuck around to try to flirt with the one I thought was cute whilst surviving the dagger stares I knew I’d receive from the other one. I was getting some texts from a girl I dated who has a new girlfriend (which was actually the other girl she was seeing when when we were dating, which is why I stopped seeing her because I saw the 2 of them making out… on a night I showed up to surprise her with a rose. Ouch, I know, but I digress…) and I was just generally annoyed. I informed cute girl and we devised a plan to send her a photo of us to make her jealous.

Or really, I just used it as an excuse to get her up from behind the table . As soon as she was by my side, I started flirting pretty heavily. I had my hand on her lower back, I was leaning in, making her laugh, etc. Completely ignoring the fact that the girl she had something “complicated” with was sitting on the other side of a very small table. I was in the zone! I was working it! No prisoners!

By the end of the night, I got her phone number and she assured me that she was definitely single. By noon the next day, I got the “Hey sorry, I have something complicated going on so we can just be friends” text or something similar. Clearly, drunk me missed some signals and was possibly a huge douchebag. I should probably put a dollar in the jar. I really, genuinely thought it was going well but I was also hammered and given the state of things… clearly delusional.

Strike Three and I’m out!

So that’s that. Line ’em up and watch ’em fall. You’d think that my self-confidence has taken a hit from all this but it really hasn’t. I know it’s not about the tactics (although I could have been much nicer/smoother with the last one), those girls just don’t like me like that. And that’s okay. I’d rather strike out quickly instead of having an unrequited crush for entirely too long.

Because I crush and I crush hard. I’m a romantic and if we go out on a date, I’m going to be sweet and entirely too honest and hopefully, some girl, somewhere, finds that endearing. Until then… at least my boobs look great.

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this post but my own shame.