Last night, after some potential tinder meetups didn't pan out, I was all dressed up with nowhere to go.
I was just sitting around my house, its 11 at night, I'm just wondering if I should call it an early night or what.
I decide, eh fuck it, I'm gunna go out. It's a Saturday night, no way am I just sitting at home drinking alone. So I hop in my car and drive over to this local bar that I usually only go to on Wednesdays nights (when its packed).
I park in the back, walk up to the entrance to the bar, and realize the place is freaking dead. Like so dead that they closed off half the bar just to make it look like there are some people in there. I'm talking maybe like 20 people in this place, tops.
So I don't even walk in. I'm like fuck this, if I walk in, I'm just gunna sit down for a second, buy a $7 drink, chill for like 5 minutes, and leave. Waste of time. So I go back to my car, and I'm just chilling in my car for a second, talking to my tinder hotties.
And then I realize - look it doesn't matter who the fuck is in the bar. Who cares how dead it is. I realized that I feel uncomfortable walking into a dead bar by myself. I feel uncomfortable doing that. And as soon as I realized that, I knew I had to go in. It has been a long standing rule of mine to run towards the fear. Unlike the common belief, fear is actually an indicator that you need to do it, not a deterrent against doing it.
So I walk into this place, 100 percent alone, not having a plan, not knowing how long I'm going to stay there. I just put one foot in front of the other and moved forward. I go up to the bar, grab my drink. Rum and coke. Bacardi. And there's an MMA fight going on. So I just chill at the bar next to a group of guys and just sip my (for some reason insanely strong) rum and coke, nod my head to the music, and watch the fight.
A few minutes goes by, I'm scoping this place out, and I see 2 HB6s at the bar by themselves.
I say fuck it, might as well walk up and get the practice. I pick the hotter one as my target, make my approach, and start talking about the fight. Mention the Mcgregor fight (we both happened to also be at that bar for that fight as well) we talk about that for a bit.
After a bit of chit chat, I tell my target I'm getting outta here, give me your number and we'll chill again.
She complies, no problem. I peace out.
Moral of the story: just show up. Seriously just fucking show up. Not like I had some sort of rockstar night, but instead of sitting home alone sipping some schnapps and playing starcraft, I put one foot in front of the other, ran towards my fear, confronted my discomfort, and even got a number out of it.
Embrace the discomfort. Push the limits of your comfort zone, always. And approach.
Relevant: Shout out to "Bang" by Roosh V. There was a great section on going out to clubs alone in there that helped me a ton.