Okay, so I went to a club last night for the first time in a while. I’m a total newbie struggling through my earliest interactions— I only made my first cold approach at a coffeehouse a few days ago. But I hate clubs…the sort of communal extroversion about them, and the constant noise over talking. It’s just not something I would do for fun, if there weren’t girls there…and I was almost dreading it going in.

I’m at a rooftop dance floor in Austin. I pretend to listen to the band, but I’m really surveying the room. There are lots of prospects, but as usual many are already occupied by other guys. Some are real couples, and others are tenuous connections. It’s hard to get a read on everything at first.

I’ll boil the night down to two main interactions. The mere fact that I had actual interactions is an important step forward after breaking through my approach anxiety earlier in the week.

A pair of hot, probably college girls or just older are standing in front of me. I’ve been trying to avoid looking like a pervert staring around all night. One of them makes eye contact with me, and it doesn’t seem accidental. I hesitate, though. I know as I’m doing it that I’m messing up my best moment. But I tell myself to persist, I stay in the area, and a few moments later they approach the bar. Part of me thinks they were trying to get my attention, but I have no way of knowing.

I say hello to my favorite, the eye contact girl. She smiles, she’s friendly. I stumble my way through a miniature conversation, but it’s hard to hear each other. I get their names, give them mine. I think they said I was dressed “fancy” and I said they were too— and tried to tease them about wanting to get attention. There’s some laughter, I call them both pretty. One leans over “what did you say, I missed…” “I said you’re both pretty.” “Oh, thanks!”

I asked about the girl’s tattoo, which she explains is a painting. She asks if I have any. I say no, I should get one. “Tonight!” one of them says. They ask what tattoo I would get, I stumble a little. “Something in Latin..I studied it in college…”

There are little awkward moments, but nothing horribly embarrassing. It’s just newbie flirting.

Then, it happened. A guy bolts over to ME, with a packet of something, and says “do YOU put pepper on your pizza?!” I say no. I immediately realize what’s going on. Two more guys with pepper packets swarm in, and they start in on the girls. It’s obviously a canned routine. They have the social sanction, and the showy attitudes. I know there are ways to counter this shit, but don’t know what they are. Soon, they dominate the girls’ attention, and I realize my moment has been usurped. I can’t even hear well enough to try to participate and swing things back. So, I move on without anyone even noticing.

Interaction two was more hopeful. I start to walk along the edge of the club to find more prospects. There are two girls sitting in the corner, at a table up on a sort of platform. One is clearly hot, although I can’t get a great look at her. While I’m deciding what to do/stalling, she turns around and makes sustained eye contact with me for several seconds. It seems impossible to ignore. I walk up the little steps to their table.

I cough out some joke about “how did you reserve the special section?” Because they’re alone in a corner. They take me literally, explaining “we just got here first.” Not a great start, I think. I chat with them for a while, but it’s even more difficult to hear.

The pretty one asks if I’m from Austin, which I am. They’re from San Antonio, in for the weekend to see a band whose name I can’t hear. They’re dubious about Austin, and don’t seem to like the music scene they’ve run across so far.

One turns out to be from Maryland originally. I say I’m originally from Chicago, and it turns out the pretty one’s family is from around the same area. They perk up a bit when I say that. But the other girl, sitting on the other side of the table, is having a hard time following any of this. She has to lean across and ask us to repeat things. My girl cups her hand and shouts things in my ear.

It’s hard to remember the exact timeline. Me and my girl both went to film school, we talk about our favorite movies. It’s hard to read their vibe, and interest level, because so much is dominated by trying to hear each other. The other girl gets antsy, says something about “need to dance” and sort of bolts towards the floor.

Now it gets confusing. My girl tells me her name is Lizzie. She “can’t leave her friend” but I can’t hear her exact words. “…if you want…come with…otherwise, it was nice to meet you.” I don’t know where we’re going at this point, but I take it as at least a sort of invitation.

We all follow the other girl onto the dance floor. She tries to get Lizzie to dance, who resists. I would too, so I like her even more. It turns into a new conversation, and they quiz me about music (our favorite bands) and my local Austin recommendations. I feel uncertain, and I tell the truth that it depends on the night and who’s playing where. I recommend an improv club for lack of any better ideas. I mention that Janis Joplin started at Threadgills, but it closed during the pandemic. I get the sense they think I’m foolish to bring it up, if it’s closed.

I redeem myself, though. “Do you like jazz?” Lizzie perks up and says yes. “There’s The Elephant Room.” “We passed that place earlier!” For a minute, I think we’re all going there together.

The other girl bolts again, downstairs. We follow frantically. She practically tries to usher Lizzie into the women’s bathroom. Lizzie seems confused, leans to me and says “it’s not clear.” They go in.

I’m pretty sure she pulled her in to discuss me in private. Some kind of official policy is being reached. For a minute, I get excited thinking that they’re arranging a way to split up, so that Lizzie can come with me. I wonder how close the hotel is. I fantasize.

The other girl comes out first, and power walks right past me. Lizzie hangs back, possibly against the friend’s will. “Okay, so, we’re heading out. But it was nice meeting you.” She shakes my hand and hurries after her friend, who doesn’t go out, but up again to the dance floor. 5-10 minutes later they actually do leave completely.

—

I was pretty disappointed, and tried to figure out what I did wrong the rest of the night. Had I offended the friend/ignored her? It was so hard to hear her. Was it when they asked if I was with anyone, and I admitted I was by myself? Did Lizzie have any real interest in the first place, or had they been trying to ditch me from the start? How much was the friend’s doing, alone?

I hung around until closing, but didn’t have too many options who weren’t with guys.

Anyway, that was as close as I’ve yet come.