Not too long ago, I sat in a Blackhawk casino playing Texas Hold'em in a room full of men: men from every walk of life at every age ... a woman's smorgasbord of testosterone.
Yippy!
At my table of ten players were five men without wedding rings and in my age-range.
Did I say, yippy?
The odds were definitely on my side, and as the only woman there that wasn't some wife tagging along bored out of her wits throwing chips in the pot willy-nilly because she believed that an eight-three off-suit was a respectable hand (it's not), I felt confident. There I was on a good hair-day wearing a zip-up sweater that was zipped down just enough to distract my fellow players with a first-rate cleavage shot when I leaned over the table to get a closer look at the flop (hey, poker is still poker), knowing what the cards meant, knowing when to bluff and feeling really good. Confident, sexy vibes were going out.
As I was taking their money (I probably just answered my own question, but I'll continue anyway), a commercial came on the big screen about the Broncos vs. Titans game on Monday Night Football. I groaned and said, "Ah, we're going to have to listen to that idiot announcer cut the Broncos down again." A few gentlemen perked up at the table. Oh, yeah ... now I had their attention, so I continued with, "Did you hear what that jerk said about our Rockies? A World Series team deserves more respect." The attractive man to my left, sans the wedding ring and my intended target, said something about the announcer being gone after this year. Then, the poker game continued ... the annoying sound of crickets becoming the backdrop.
Painting the big picture: an attractive, single female sitting at a poker table with the ladies peaking out just enough to whisper, "
oh boys," starting the conversation with football as the subject and nothing ... nada ... zip.
As comedian
Bill Engvall would say,
"And there's your sign."
They missed every sign - neon and blinking - that I sent. So, I did what every scorned woman would do and took the rest of their money by slow playing quad nines (four of any number is a rare hand indeed and was most definitely dealt to me by those angry, poker-playing goddesses of love, bless their hearts ... tsk, tsk, gentlemen).
I also did what I usually do and started asking the men in my life why the male species grind to a complete halt when it comes to approaching women. I received two standard answers: "
We're nervous," and "
We aren't sure they're interested, so the fear of rejection comes into play."
One married male friend of mine told me that he went to a restaurant with his friends and at the next table were a group of attractive women. His friend spent the entire dinner making eye contact with a woman at the ladies table. When my friend told him to go over there and introduce himself, he refused. He wasn't sure she was interested.
Duh!
And, there's your sign.
In case you were still wondering ... gentlemen, there are two sure-fire signs that a woman is interested in you and would like you to approach - eye contact and a smile. We have difficulty maintaining eye contact with a man (
nerves!), so when we do, we're definitely interested. A smile? It screams, "
Please approach, and please don't ruin this illusion by saying something truly lame and juvenile." While a smile is essentially a green light to approach, we really don't want to know how proud you are to own a personalized beer bong.
Although I can't help you with the heart-thumping march across the room, allow me to give you some sure fire ammunition for when you get there: just say "hello."
It really is that simple.
Follow that good-old-fashioned "hello" with your name and a realistic, heart-felt compliment, then just listen to her reply and take your cue. I promise, any woman would be flattered for the attention. If she makes it clear that she isn't, throw your shoulders back and exit with a smile grateful for the gift of knowing up front that you don't want anything to do with her.
If she politely turns you down, there are several reasons that are not a reflection on you, so wish her a nice evening with a smile and depart knowing you just made some woman's day.
As for nerves, truth is, we understand the fear of approaching someone for the first time and striking up a conversation that doesn't sound stupid and isn't laced with stuttering and spittle. Been there done that! Women are just as nervous as men in this arena, so guys take a deep breath and the risk. A true lady knows what you went through to approach her without tripping over your own two feet. We know it meant putting yourself on the line, agonizing over some clever thing to say, making the long trek across the room while your friends' chant, "
dead man walking" all the while praying you don't have to take the even longer walk back from where you came just to endure your friends' razing.
Trust me, we appreciate the terror in your efforts.
So, on behalf of all flattered women, I thank you.