Dating Follies Of A Fatter More Nervous Deviant.

     When I was in high school I had a number of things working against me when it came to dating. I was out of shape, which the picture above clearly shows. I was awkward around girls I thought were out of my league, which includes all the girls in the photo, based solely on their beautiful faces. Finally my confidence around the fairer sex was lower than Osama’s rotting body.

            When I joined the Army I shed about 40 pounds which left my body looking like a greek god, which you can clearly see in the picture below.

    But this post isn’t to brag about my new body, rather its to look back on my amazing follies of the past.

    In junior high I had this crush on a girl I had known for a while, I knew she was out of my league, but that never stops crushes. Anyway I thought the way to her heart was to be a fucking white knight with no spine. No favor was too small, if she needed five bucks I probably would have robbed the 7/11 on the corner and given her the $350 and five cartons of smokes I made off with. Needless to say this tactic did not work at all. All of that was also assuming she would have asked me for a favor, but because I spent most of the time staring at her from a far she didn’t approach me for the time of day. Now you might think this would be the end of the story but fast forward ten years to my first time home from the Army. I had a couple of weeks at home before I had to deploy to Iraq, and a buddy of mine was having a party at his apartment. I went to the party, and got severely obliterated. Nature called and I was in a rush to answer, but the bathroom was occupado. Being an inconsiderate prick, and having been in the field for the last month or so I walked outside and began relieving myself on his front lawn. While I’m standing there with my penis in one hand and a beer bottle in the other who should walk up to the door but the girl I had a crush on ten years ago. As I tucked myself back into my pants, I asked her how she was doing. I’ll give her this, she was polite and just smiled rather than run away screaming, or jabbing a sharp object into my eye. I shamelessly walked back into the party, and by the end of the night I was doing push ups with her on my back like a tool.

      At the end of junior high I had landed my first girlfriend, she was hot, really hot. The fact that she was hot is probably what doomed it in the first place. I was so nervous that I would say or do something to fuck it up that I just never said or did anything. I hadn’t blown up like a blimp yet, but that didn’t keep me from being awkward around her. When I was dropped off at her place to watch a movie (yes dropped off I was only 14 at the time so fuck off) I always sat inches away from her, thinking that if I made a move she would freak out. I did not realize that the fact that I made no moves freaked her out even more. The relationship did not last long, but I’m sure you already knew that.

    At the beginning of highschool my waistline expanded, and my jeans lowered a considerable amount. I walked around like a member of G-unit, and talked like one to. In one of my classes I had this pretty good-looking girl who sat in front of me. We started talking one day and she asked if I liked to smoke pot. I took one look at her cleavage and nodded an excited yes, nevermind the fact that I had never smoked it before. She asked if I had any, and I again nodded my head. I told her I had a lot, and when she asked how much I told her I had a pound or so. Now I knew nothing about weed, but when I answered that I had a pound or so, I pretty much told her I was a dealer. We made a plan to hang out later that week. I went around high school asking people if they knew where I could get a pound of weed, and now I understand why I got the looks I got. When we finally did hang out I had some ‘splainin to do. Thankfully she saved me the trouble and walked away from my befuddled ass.

      Mid way through highschool I went on a something called a workcamp, which is usually a church sponsored trip to a downtrodden town. While there you work on people’s homes and help them out. People from all over the place go there, and in my group I had this girl from PA. She probably wore a little too much make-up, but I didn’t care I thought she was hot, er-go I acted like a fool. When she said she wanted to be a model, I sputtered out that she would be a “really really good model”. If she was painting, I was painting. I did everything in my power to ensure that she never talked to me. Later on when I got home I sent her a MySpace request, remember MySpace? Anyway she rejected me, and now I forget her name.

     Finally in my senior year I came into my own. I was still tipping the scales at an outstanding 225 pounds, but I had charisma, which was the only thing that saved my ass. My nerves were calmer, and my words were smoother, my gut may have been bigger, but my tongue was quicker and that enabled me to act with a tad bit more normalcy than I had previously demonstrated.

     Now a days my confidence is at an all time high. Most likely due to my past experiences. I’ve lost those LBs that kept me grounded all those years ago. I can actually talk to women now instead of just staring. Now I’m not saying I’m a stud, but I’m light years ahead of where I used to be, and that’s always a good place to be.

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