“Let me tell ya. You gotta pay attention to signs. When life reaches out with a moment like this it’s a sin if you don’t reach back… I’m telling you.”
― Matthew Quick, The Silver Linings Playbook
While it doesn’t come as a surprise to myself at times of self reflection, it does somewhat sadden when I think about how timorous I was. The fear of rejection always weighed heavy on my mind and consistently held me back from doing anything bold or brazen.
I don’t think I ever really told anyone about this before.
During my final year of college I had pretty much graduated from exclusive mIRC use to ICQ. One night I received a message from a masseuse that lived in the area. I use the term masseuse rather loosely here, as I’m certain she wasn’t licensed. To be blunt, she worked for the Taj Mahal; a local rub and tug. She was of similar age and questioning her lot in life. She gave me the spiel of generally being shy and lonely. She had never randomly reached out to a stranger on the internet before. Somehow she landed on me. The following day after first contact, we graduated to a phone call. We clicked fairly well in the vocal medium. During out discussion, she confided in me a dark secret about most of the men she serviced. Apparently, in her professional opinion, men were completely inept at cleaning around the anus. Yes, I’m talking skids and clumps (take notes, gents). After laughs and other stories, she asked if I would meet her after work. I quickly came up with an excuse why I couldn’t, although I’d be damned if I can recall what it was. Without the veil of technology to communicate my incredible charm and wit through, I knew this woman would judge me as being fat and unworthy. Everyone, after all, is shallow. Besides, this girl worked an erotic massage parlour. She would have to be at least mildly attractive, right?
I’d like to say I regret nothing in my life. Sometimes I convince myself that I have no regrets. The fact is, obviously, that I do. I wish I would have had the balls back then just to go say hello, free of expectation. Things may have gone as I anticipated they would have. Then again, I may have got the chance to kiss a girl for chrissakes! Yes, I know the butterfly effect could easily apply here, and I wouldn’t want to change how things have turned out. Regardless, this missed experience still occasionally haunts me.
Why the fuck doesn’t carpe diem come in the form of a pill.