"I could go talk to her if you weren’t watching."
"If we were in a bar, and I had a few drinks, no problem."
"I don’t even like that girl anyways. She’s not really my type."
"Talk to her with all these people watching? They’ll know I’m a weirdo."
"I’m just not feeling it."
"I’m not afraid, I’m just not in the mood. But tomorrow I’ll talk to twice as many as I was gonna today."
"I would, but I don’t know what to say."
"I know what to say, but I don’t like my line. Give me a better line."
"She doesn’t like guys like me."
"It’s rude."
"She’s on the phone."
"She’s walking away."
"She’s got headphones on."
"I just don’t want to right now, all right?"
"Why don’t I just go talk to her? F*#& you. I’m not doing it and you can’t make me."
That’s a whole lot of excuses, innit? Any of them sound familiar to you?
"F*#& you. I’m not doing it and you can’t make me."
I really said that. Out loud. In public. To another person.
Not just another person. I said that to my COACH.
I’m a grown man. I have a job. Have been supporting myself, paying my own bills, and cutting my own meat at dinner for quite a few years now. But when it came right down to having someone else suggest to me that I might want to take the crazy-ass step of, gasp, TALKING to a cute girl in broad daylight, man, I regressed back to a snotty 4-year old on the playground who doesn’t wanna go home.
Except, you know, with an f-bomb thrown in there.
When I signed up for Art of Rapport and Daygame, I wanted just one thing.
Scratch that. I NEEDED one thing.
I needed to take this big-ass burden off my shoulders and put it on someone else so I could start living my own adult life.
Ya know what that was?
I knew for a fact, beyond a shadow of the shadowiest spookiest doubt, that I was, to put it in the parlance of my farmer grandpa, chickenshit.
In my whole life, I never talked to a girl stone-sober in the daytime.
The whole concept of "cold-approach" left me frozen. It made no sense. How could you just walk up to a cute girl in the middle of the day, and in a matter of minutes, go from total strangers to a date?
That’s why I swallowed my pride, wrote a check, and committed myself to that workshop. I had to know for sure, for myself, for once…
Was this really possible?
After the first day, I got a sense. I could understand these guys. They weren’t mystical wizards sent by the Martians to brainwash us all into becoming pickup gods of Zebu. They were normal guys who just seemed to have a super-normal calm and confidence about them.
They walked with confidence. They smiled even though no one was being funny. They looked happy doing what they were doing. I could start to see how they might be able to attract women.
I remember going home after that first long day of bonding with my classmates and soaking in the knowledge of the instructors, thinking, hot damn, I’m really gonna do this tomorrow. I’m going to be on the street, see a hottie, and take a shot.
Keep in mind, I wasn’t then, nor have I ever been, the kind of guy who doesn’t meet challenges. I may have been a nerd in school, but I was a hard-working, successful nerd. I graduated top of my class in college. I worked at the world’s most prestigious medical publication. I did whatever I put my mind to when it came to the intellect, so why would this be any different?
It was. And I knew that day on the street would come the time when my intellect got sent to the showers so my instinct could take over.
And yeah, that first instinct, when I saw the girls walking by, and my coach kindly reminded me it was my job to go talk to them, using the banter we’d been drilling all morning, was to run away.
Excuses, excuses, excuses.
The story don’t end there, tho.
Not 20 minutes after telling myself and my coach I wasn’t about to do it, I found myself in the middle of a busy Saturday shopping street, in the middle of a flirty conversation with a cute brunette, and in the middle of hearing HER invite me to meet her at a wine bar that night.
That was just the start.
Two hours later, I had four dates.
"I just don’t feel like it."
"She’s not my type."
"F*$# you, I’m not doing it!"
I remember what it felt like to feel it was never gonna happen for me. That was just two short years ago.
All it took was one afternoon in Art of Rapport and Daygame, and all that bullsh*t went away.
And you know what? Some part of me wishes I never did find out that way. I wish I had just been taught this stuff from birth, the way it should be. I wish I had never gotten it into my thick overly-intellectual head that talking to women was something to fear and dread. But I did.
It took a lot of years to drill that lesson into me. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t ask that girl out. Don’t let her know you like her… she’ll only laugh at you and make fun of you in front of everyone.
Yeah, the part of me that kept me from doing what I wanted was a scared, stupid little kid.
It only took one weekend to get me started learning the way my life SHOULD be. And now I have the choice with women I want and deserve.
I see a girl walking home from the subway in New York City, I take 10 minutes to talk, and we’ve got a date. I vacation in Croatia on my own and meet three girls who speak only a little English, and I’ve got hot tour guides for the day. I visit friend in LA for the weekend and go out for coffee, and I’ve got a date for the night.
I want a girlfriend? I go to where women shop in the day, and take care of my own shopping. I get one in just the size and color I want.
And if I don’t like it, I take it back and get another one! 
It’s really that easy now.
Thanks to one day. Thanks to one chance.
Thanks to one new thought.
"F*#$ you, I’m doing it and you can’t STOP me."
Nice post!!!