The Chicken Dance

The Cubs are in town, which means I headed out to the ballpark to attempt to get Darwin Barney to notice me (and, also, to watch some mediocre baseball).  My friend Dennis was sweet enough to buy the tickets as an early birthday gift.  He also told me that he had a little something else for me.  I thought going to the game was more than enough, but he insisted that I was going to LOVE it.  Far be it from me to refuse a gift!

I got to the game and he handed me my present.  It could go down as the best present ever.

It was about 100 of these:

Excuse the poor picture quality, will you?


The card, obviously, has my name and phone number on it.  The idea is that if I think someone is interesting enough (read: cute or any adjectives similar to cute), I'll walk up and give it to them.  This is a great idea, in theory.  Occasionally, I see someone I think is worth a chance, but I don't have time (or the nerve) to talk to them.  This is a funny and clever way to put myself out there.  I liked it!

I liked it in theory, that is.

You see, friends, the fact is that I'm a chicken.  I wasn't able to give my card to ONE guy yesterday.  There was a guy sitting in the row in front of us, who laughed at everything I was saying.  (*Tangent* Typically, I would think his eavesdropping to be creepy, but we ALL know how loud I can be in public.  He probably couldn't help but overhear me and my humorous musings.)  Clearly, he was charmed by me - let's be honest, who isn't? (Don't answer that.) - but I couldn't bring myself to give him one of the cards.

I just didn't have it in me to pass him the card.  I was so nervous, my hand was shaking.  My number is on this thing!  What if he didn't text or call?  I would be disappointed.  If I can't give away a single card, what am I going to do with 100 of them?!?

Reflecting on this later, I figure that if I were to give out ALL the cards, surely there would be at least a single guy who would be interested.  That's my shot: 1 in 100.  Those are worse stats than either the Astros or the Cubs have this season (or any season), and that is saying quite a bit.  But, even then, all I need in my life is one dude, right?  And if they like my gall and see the humor in the card, then they kind of get me already. 

Is handing out the cards worth the risk?  Possibly.  Kim Kardashian or Winston Churchill (or someone equally important) said, "Without risk, there is no reward." 

Maybe the reward is learning how to take a harmless chance. 
Maybe it'll make me more adventurous.
Or maybe someone will call me. 

Maybe?

~J