On Chatting Women Up
March 20, 2008
I don’t think I have ever chatted someone up. Not intentionally, at least.
I have probably discounted the notion that I may have chatted someone up once, because any time I thought that I might have been chatting someone up, I would clam up and shuffle away.
I’ve met girls at parties and stuff. There was the time I kissed Melissa O’Shea (not real name), but that was mostly because she sat down next to me drunk (both of us) on the floor and we started slurring our way word for word through REM’s It’s The End Of The World As We Know It.
I think we got as far as “Right? Right.” before we embraced, but to be honest, she had me at “That’s great…”
I don’t know. No, I do. It’s a fear of almost certain rejection.
I’m OK in theory. I guess I’m funny on paper, but in those situations I rarely have paper with me. Arf. Anyway, it’s called chatting someone up, not writing them up.
I’m sensitive, although maybe to a fault given my quiet persona and predisposition to sadness. I laugh a lot and talk quite a bit once I’m given to know someone. And there’s the funny. Despite all this, I get convinced by all available indications that I am worth less than the sum of my parts.
Heh. I said parts. And clam, earlier. See?
So it comes almost as a pleasant surprise when anyone finds me tolerable, and it’s a downright shock should anyone grow bezotted, because I don’t see that I’ve been doing any zotting at all.
But what do I know. I’m just amazed you’ve read this post all the way to the end.
Listen, anyway. I’m going to be in communicado all weekend, but come back on Saturday for the Weekend Song, unless you’re in communicado too, in which case I might see you there.
And don’t expect me to chat you up, because that’s just not going to happen.
Have a great weekend.
16 comments
On a similar vein, I’ve found that using TEH FUNNAY to laugh a girl into bed – whilst moderately successful – becomes dreadfully disconcerting because they’re still laughing when they get there.
Laughing and pointing.
What a great post, Cliff. I can empathise so much it’s uncanny, but you expressed it much better and with more humour than I would have.
Maybe we can go out for a drink sometime. Maybe a movie?
(the in communicado line reminds me of that old “Jobs in jeopardy” joke – remember it?)
Cliff, I sat across or next to you five days a week for four long years waiting – nay, longing – for you to chat me up. You could have had me and you didn’t even know it.
Being in communicado is so much better than being in dire straits.
My new favourite sigh: Arf.
What the hell brought this on?
Cliff, you sound lovely.
in communicado – doesn’t that mean ‘without knickers’?
Scary – It’s funny because it’s true.
Jonners – Thanks, no thanks and no.
Adam – Now? You tell me this now? You’re in Australia. You may as well be in a different country. Or on the other side of the world.
Chairwoman – Or En Vogue
Ed – Me. I brought this on myself. I should go.
Weasel – That’s really, really very nice of you. That will wear off, but until it does you’re too kind.
Sooz – Yes. Yes it does.
I have enough ENglish girls not talking to me.
You want me to come home for you? I will, you know, just say the word
LOL @ Adam
LOL @ Sooz
Great post, Cliff. It got me thinking about my own inadequacies as regards chatting up women or chatting in general to people. Very fortunately for me, the lovely Mrs C came into my life in the early 70s … instant mutual attraction, and she’s a great conversationalist … far better than me.
I’m still wondering why Cliff has to worry about chatting women up in the first place.
this one always throws me. What’s the difference between chatting to a girl and chatting her up? Is it just about intent and style?
Leave a comment. Play nice. I will turn this blog around.