This is for Augusta

Maybe I’m not the best advocate for giving advice.  I’m a twenty-one year old twice college dropout who spends his days in coffee shops, and his nights in bars.  Although this does gives me a lot of time for reflection….  My first kiss was at the embarrassing age of seventeen.  I’ve had over twenty jobs in my short life.  I moved to NYC and failed.  I’m not the best at approaching women.  I see a therapist, and I read self-help articles online.

Maybe I am the best advocate for giving advice.  I’m a well traveled, well read, eclectic person.  I’ve had over twenty jobs in my life.  And I’ve done the “sell all your stuff and start fresh” thing, twice.  Sure I don’t have my life figured out like I perceive Mark Manson to have, but what I do offer is a fresh take on what it’s like to try, fail, and learn — in almost real time.

So let me talk to you, let me help you.  Learn from my mistakes with me.  This is my journey, and I want you to be apart of it.  If you do choose to be apart of it, then I want your feed back too.  We’re in this together.

I’m currently writing an embellished short story about something that happened to me at work.  You can read an excerpt I posted here.   I’ll tell you what really happened:

I worked at a grocery store as a cashier in the cafe department.  It was a slow day at work, but it was a really nice day.  I looked out the window whilst pretending to clean tables and I saw a really beautiful woman.  I think to myself, “No way she’ll come in here.”  She approaches the door and opens it, and just around the corner follows her father.  I welcome them to the store, as any good employee would.  They smile, nod, and keep walking.

By this point I’m still in awe, but not trying to be creepy, so I continue to wipe tables.  A few minutes later her father approaches me and ask me a question about our baked goods.  I’m pleasantly surprised to learn that her father has an English accent.  I help him out by answering his questions.  He buys some cookies and his daughter then joins him at a table in the cafe.

Now I’m really wanting to hear her speak, and luckily they sat at a table right in front of my register, so I was able to speak to them while remaining not forward.  We all had a pleasant conversation, talking about travels, cultural things, local places that are fun, blah, blah, blah.  I learned a bit about her too, and she quickly became even more amazing, as we shared similar interests, and seemingly the same sense of humor.

I told myself that if her father wasn’t right here, I would ask her if she wanted to get drinks later.  I built an excuse.  So instead of asking her out for drinks, I instead ask how long they would be in town.  She then says, “We’re actually leaving tonight.”  Now, I felt it was extremely pointless to ask her out.  After more small talk, they left, and I wondered the “what ifs?”

A week later, she comes into the store by herself.  I approach her and questioned why she was still in town.  Turns out her father’s appendix decided to stop working the day I met them, and they’ve been stuck here while he recovered.  Immediately I get the idea to ask her out again!  But my hesitant and nervous self decided to again ask when they would be leaving.  She responds with, “We are leaving tonight to go to Atlanta, and we fly out tomorrow.”

Missed opportunities are easily avoidable.  In hindsight, it’s always so easy to realize that.  I was too nervous, so I missed out on the chance of asking a beautiful English women out for drinks.  I missed the chance to even learn if she would have said yes or no.  Hell, at the very least, I missed the chance to learn her name.  We learn through our mistakes, and if I learned anything from this, it’s that when I feel too nervous, scared, or shy; I will think of a girl I named Augusta, and I will ask her out for drinks.

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