Name: Anonymous 2007-09-04 7:37 ID:qZXAndFq
Aside from my lack of a strong chin and Brad Pitt looks, I am what many would consider to be the complete package. I have a good job that pays pretty well and I have a functioning car. I am responsible, caring, and very funny. I am good at making friends, I am kind to animals, and I do my best to make life fun and interesting for those around me. I have a bachelor's degree from an Ivy League school and a master's degree from another school that always seems to be in the top five schools in the country. I am basically every mother's dream guy for her daughter. But then there is The Curse.
The Curse rears its ugly head on nights like tonight. I go out to a bar to meet a group of people and mingle. There are several women there whom I find attractive. I start conversations with some of them; there is clearly no interest on their part. I try to make eye contact with others; they simply look away and avoid me. Other guys are having nice, enjoyable conversations with women without any of the problems I'm having. A casual observer might just say that I was having a night of bad luck.
However, THIS HAPPENS EVERY NIGHT I GO OUT. Every time I go out, every time I meet a women in the check out line at the store, every blind date I've been on, every interaction I have with a woman my age ends the same. It is as if someone has handed the woman I'm talking to a plate of dog crap. I'm not saying anything mean, arrogrant, or weird in these conversations. I'm just asking basic break-the-ice questions. Hence, The Curse.
The only reasonable explanation for my failure to generate any interest in any woman is The Curse. I'm not talking about an actual "curse" put on me by an individual. I'm talking about a general inability to connect with any woman the origins of which I can't determine, thereby making it appear as if some has put a "curse" on me. That's The Curse.
My chances of finding someone are ZERO. No matter what I try, the result never changes. I don't want anyone's sympathy, I just needed to find a place to vent my anger, loneliness, frustration and disappointment. Nor do I expect anyone to have an answer that will help me in any way. But I'm figuring that some people will just tell me to stop feeling sorry for my crazy self. I don't feel sorry for myself, I'm just pointing out a fact: most men aren't cursed, but I happen to be. There is no solution to this; it is something I must live with for the next 50-something years of my loveless life.
There, my post. Let the flaming begin.
The Curse rears its ugly head on nights like tonight. I go out to a bar to meet a group of people and mingle. There are several women there whom I find attractive. I start conversations with some of them; there is clearly no interest on their part. I try to make eye contact with others; they simply look away and avoid me. Other guys are having nice, enjoyable conversations with women without any of the problems I'm having. A casual observer might just say that I was having a night of bad luck.
However, THIS HAPPENS EVERY NIGHT I GO OUT. Every time I go out, every time I meet a women in the check out line at the store, every blind date I've been on, every interaction I have with a woman my age ends the same. It is as if someone has handed the woman I'm talking to a plate of dog crap. I'm not saying anything mean, arrogrant, or weird in these conversations. I'm just asking basic break-the-ice questions. Hence, The Curse.
The only reasonable explanation for my failure to generate any interest in any woman is The Curse. I'm not talking about an actual "curse" put on me by an individual. I'm talking about a general inability to connect with any woman the origins of which I can't determine, thereby making it appear as if some has put a "curse" on me. That's The Curse.
My chances of finding someone are ZERO. No matter what I try, the result never changes. I don't want anyone's sympathy, I just needed to find a place to vent my anger, loneliness, frustration and disappointment. Nor do I expect anyone to have an answer that will help me in any way. But I'm figuring that some people will just tell me to stop feeling sorry for my crazy self. I don't feel sorry for myself, I'm just pointing out a fact: most men aren't cursed, but I happen to be. There is no solution to this; it is something I must live with for the next 50-something years of my loveless life.
There, my post. Let the flaming begin.