Dear friends,
The following is a true story. I haven't edited it one bit, not even for grammar or spelling.
It's yet another example of how you should always act the exact opposite way of how women want you to act.
Enjoy.
-BB
As a lonely and nerdy virgin teen growing up on a cattle farm in the middle of the woods, I was always jealous of how easily some of the "preppier," more socially capable boys could wind up in relations with girls. Having gone through high school having never been kissed, constantly wishing and wondering how that illustrious, confident man portrayed in television and movies who always got the girl pulled it off. I wanted to escape myself and be someone else entirely all throughout high school, I just never figured out how to really go about this.
I graduated, still a virgin, still having never been kissed, going off to college in Arizona at a nerd-centric private school which was ninety percent male. Probably not the best place to get my bearings. Out there, I started to notice that I was one of the more normal people around, and surrounded myself with those who helped me improve myself; going to the gym to help bulk up my lanky frame, learning about the wonders of hard liquor and recreational substances, and starting some real interacting with the female race (and failing miserably) - I started to get a handle on myself and one drunken Facebook session in may of 2009 I managed to convince a sultry Arabic female to drive two hours across the state to spend the night in my cramped dorm, eating overcooked steak and fooling around on a bed far too small for an awkward nerd and a poor girl who was later traumatized by his roommates busting in and showing cumshot videos for the sake of comedy.
Needless to say, she drove another two hours by herself back across state, and I was still a sad virgin. After that minor catastrophe, there was the crazy biker, the ex-stripper, the nursing student, and a couple other awkward dates here and there. Nothing really came of it, but it was more of a learning experience than anything else, picking up tidbits of knowledge here and there.
It wasn't until meeting some crazy raving girl who I ended up sleeping with three hours after meeting up at Starbucks that the illustrious curse of my virginity left me, as Neil Patrick Harris in his classic role of Dr. Horrible watched in the background, in an odd twist of fate.
That was the moment when it all pretty much went out the window, as far as any sense of normalcy is concerned.
Two weeks later I met a Chinese immigrant girl in the same place, and a week later after she grabbed my wrist and begged me not to cheat on her as I went home for break wound up starting a four month relationship with a foreign model, who was pretty much perfect, thick accent and all.
Regretfully, a combination of a family emergency, financial troubles, an existential crisis and watching any sort of future for myself go out the window wound up with me having to pick up my things and move out to Los Angeles to form any sort of career, and I wound up single in a new city without a single acquaintance, other than a certain @Bad_Boyfriend I was following on Twitter.
After a short while of getting settled in, almost winding up in a relationship with an Israeli girl who mailed me a physical V Card after the deed (two girls in a row I'd had to deal with this, mind you) and growing fed up with my dating life, I reached out to Bad Boyfriend.
Bad Boyfriend I came upon through someone else retweeting them, I started following, he RT'd a handful of my replies, then one day in frustration figured, what have I got to lose? I mean, my OkCupid profile was something I had on the side which wasn't really working out for me, and I figured if anyone, he could help. His name is Bad Boyfriend. That's not a title handed out to just anyone.
If I never have to deal with this again, I will die happy.
After going over my profile and suggesting several revisions, I took his advice and trimmed it down, giving my profile a serious rewrite, and good lord. Something happened. Something goddamn magical happened.
I suddenly had to set aside time to reply to messages. I got the pick of the litter, to understate how ridiculous things have become for me. Meeting multiple women in a single week, and I had hardly a single hang-up or disappointment.
Compare this to earlier, when I got:
-Crazy Israeli virgin girl
-Theatre major whose insanity I can't sum up in a sentence
-Theater major who did not realize she was fucking screaming into my ear about harry potter, of all things
-I won't even talk about the last one. Beyond words.
Now I'm dealing with:
-A real life "madame"
-Sultry black painter
-Foxy Mexican girl with a sweet innocent exterior, and a loud, kinky interior that practically put me in a state of shock and awe after this first time we had sex.
-another foxy Chinese girl
-grown men several years my senior asking me, a 20 something kid who grew up shoveling manure, for advice.
-A handful of other women I've yet to figure out just what to do with.
I had suddenly had my sex life revitalized after a single intervention from Bad Boyfriend, the culmination of months of self-improvement and getting sexually comfortable with oneself.
Oh, and this.
My roommate taking pictures of said profile, in awe.
Bad Boyfriend's generosity was the final step in helping me reinvent myself from lonely, awkward virgin nerd with no social skills to a modern day Don Juan whose had a total of two women refer to his sexual proficiency as "perfect."
To those out there who were like me - lonely, virgin and all, there's hope for you yet. It's a matter of wanting to change and working for it, not giving up just because of one, or two, or a hundred or so rejections. My journey took me a couple years, and honestly, I regret not a minute of it.
I end 2010 a far different man than the boy I was in January, an entire omnibus of adventures thanks to my willingness to change, and more importantly, the help of a few good men.
