�Don�t call it a comeback� or ���
I just got back from another Fairways show where I got to see Jen, the sexiest bassist in the universe (*sigh* her smile is ridiculously alluring). Anyway, since I�ve been a dick the last three weeks I figured my new, more aggressive, and more confident self (Mean Raymond) would be able to talk to her. But out of nowhere, Normal Raymond comes back. Unable to speak in complete sentences�frozen in terror at the sight of a lovely woman�look, cowering in the corner! It�s a spaz! It�s a geek! It�s Normal Raymond!
So even though there were numerous opportunities to speak to her, I didn�t say anything until the last possible moment. I�m talking chances in double digits that I could have said hello or something more creative. At the end of the night Tony made us buy her record (neither of us have record players) and I managed to say three or four words. I loathe myself.
There�s absolutely no reason I shouldn�t be able to talk to this woman. I�m really nice and very cool (as far as video-game journalists go), but I doubt myself for a split second and it all goes to shit. All of the sudden there�s no one I think less of.
This is pathetic. I can�t wait until my roommate wakes up so I can take this out on him. I hate him. I hate this. I probably hate you too.