Alcohol, and its failings.

Inspired by Tom's blog, which you should all read by the way : http://thisonejustcameoutoftheswamp.blogspot.com/ , I have decided to write a blog detailing why I don't get with girls at clubs, and why alcohol has failed me.

See, the whole concept of clubs is a difficult one. I was thinking how absurd the concept is really. Thousands of Britons go out nightly with the expressed purpose of getting drunk and "seeing what happens". Some people are going "on the pull", some are targeting someone, some are intent on getting whatever they can, but I bet that a good proportion of the single population of clubs are just there to see what happens. You go to enjoy yourself with your friends, and have a good night. Maybe a person of an appropriate level of sexual attractiveness and strength of character will be there. But probably not.
Taking Back Sunday put it quite nicely in Cut Me Up Jenny: "I took full advantage of, being taken full advantage of, yeah I took what I could get".

At this stage, of course, personality is virtually reduntant, as Tom makes clear, you can't hear a word, and perhaps the only way to accurately establish whether or not they are your kind of person is whether or not their lips are pressed against yours, and their hands reaching expectantly at your errogenous zones.

This is the problem for me. Overthinking things at clubs.
There is a lot to think about when trying to "pull" a girl at a club.

Firstly, you have to ask yourself, am I attractive enough to get with her. This first hurdle, is all too often the stumbling block for me. Hair that is about as controlable as an enraged rhinocerous, legs that are roughly half the size of my torso, and a stupid neck, are not a winning combination.
Arguably, of course, you could ask if she is attractive enough for you, but as I established quite a long time ago on this blog, women are infinitately more attractive than men, so it will rarely be a problem. But let's look past this.

Once you have established that you believe you are, in fact, attractive enough, you must face the next question. Is she drunk enough?
I am willing to bet you could produce a pretty consistent line graph showing your chances of success rising exponentially with each additional vodka shot she consumes.

If she appears drunk enough, excellent, there is only one step left.
Are you drunk enough?

Now this one really is a tough one, and one I have not mastered. If I drink too little I find myself aggravated by the oft-awful music playing. If I drink too much I end up sitting out on the street desperately trying to remember my own name, and how not to throw up.

Now then, we can see that I gave alcohol just one simple job to do; make me ultra confident, and it failed. The reason I drink alcohol is definitely not because I like the flavour. It's not because I like waking up and feeling like my mouth has experienced a drought only comparable in the hotter regions of Africa. It's not becuase I don't like remembering things.
I drink because, fundamentally, I am not all that confident, and I need to forget that. I need to be innebriated to the point where ultimate clarity has taken over and I can focus solely on the fact that I only live once, and that girl is hot.

It comes down to an epic battle between thinking vs. alcohol. Thinking almost always wins. And on the rare occasion alcohol wins it tends to go crazy and obliterate any thoughts, not returning til perhaps midday tomorrow.

I am no longer convinced.