Of Eye Contact, Anxiety, & A Rant on Smartphones

So as I mentioned in the last post, I went to an event on Monday with a couple of cute girls.

I talked to the first one, but I couldn't make conversation that was open and freely-flowing. Why? Because her head was buried in her damn smartphone the entire time. She nearly spilled coffee on me. I told her playfully that she was lucky that she didn't get it on me when she asked (remember, I was wearing very good clothes too). She told me that this happens to her every day and I responded that she'd better make sure that nothing was wrong with her, or something along those lines.

And that was it, she went right back into her smartphone. She was sitting right next to me and nothing happened after that. What could have become a nice conversation ended very abruptly because of the presence of that smartphone. Now beginning to really experience it, I can truly begin to see why Roosh and so many others are so down on smartphones. While they're annoyingly used for attention whoring, they also present a significant barrier to actual human interaction and connection. Though I obviously wouldn't be able to talk while the panel (of which my influential acquaintance was a speaker on) was doing its presentation, I could have flirted with her in other ways, but the phone made those forms of non-verbal communication next to impossible. And then of course there was the added detriment that I might very well have been literally needing to compete with some other dick at that very moment. This girl was good-looking but not gorgeous. I just didn't want to bother. She left before the thing ended anyway.

Interestingly enough she was with what might be described as friends (or at the very least people she certainly knew), but she didn't really talk to any of them either, and they were the same way. ALL of these girls were buried in some kind of device. Ah, the wonders of timing. Part of me wishes I could experience my twenties ten years ago before the advent of smartphones. Bad luck, indeed.

Onto the next girl then. This is the one I made the more significant eye contact with. Unlike the first, she didn't have her head buried in her phone, though she certainly checked it more than a few times. I checked her out immediately. I made no attempt to hide my attraction.

In retrospect I think this may have been a mistake, at least at first. I should have probably been a bit more discrete until the more opportune time. The panel was talking and I obviously couldn't make a move then. I think this may have had the effect of me leering a bit, though she didn't quite seem to be aghast at me later on at any rate. I will note this in the future.

Anyway, the panel discussion subsided, and I went to talk to my acquaintance first. It was simply more important for me to talk to him than talk to her. Remember that revolving your life around women is the absolute last thing you want to do. The social proof obviously couldn't hurt, at any rate.

I talked with my acquaintance, inquiring about a writing gig on the insider's paper that he is the editor of. This might be forthcoming, which was the highest goal of going to the thing in the first place. It was here that I made more direct eye contact with her even as I talked with him. Ah, staring into those lovely green eyes! Again, she broke it first, twice.

I wasn't paying attention as to whether she broke it going to the side or going down. This may sound a mere subtlety but it is important, and I know to look out for it in the future now.

Was the approach anxiety there? Of course. But it felt very manageable. As you accrete your masculine frame little by little, your fears start to subside. She left first. I was still talking to my acquaintance.

When the conversation ended with him, I left, and found her...on her smartphone. Two of them, in fact. I thought of teasing her about the two phones, but I didn't. I did have some place to be after that.

I really should have just gone in on this one though. Hell, I wasn't even feeling any fear. This was just...inexplicable. Has this ever happened to you, my reader? I don't really feel bad that I didn't. I certainly should have though, and there are no excuses for this. In fact, when I left, I saw that she stopped to check her phone outside, not walking any further away from the room than she already had. I imagine that this could very well have been her hovering, waiting for me to approach her. Still, the paradox, in the words of Writer With A Dick on Return of Kings, is that "you need to give a fuck but have an I don't give a fuck mentality." You need to accept yourself and all your faults, being fine with the person inside while also having the desire and taking action to move forward and achieve glory.

If you don't, you are just going to put undue pressure on yourself, and will therefore be more likely to fail. Acceptance of this mindset has significantly reduced my anxieties and doubts in general, and has made me feel a whole lot better, feelings which translated in this situation such as making me feel comfortable making such ballsy eye contact, etc.

It's no big loss, and I feel good about the whole affair. There will always be another girl. At the very least, this was a huge confidence booster.

But honestly, smartphones just need to go to hell.