Warning: May cause bodily injury.

     I am my own worst enemy. Well isn't that the damned truth. I HATE going on dates. Let me clarify, I hate first dates. I love meeting new people. One of my favorite things in the world is eliminating strangers. Here's the problem: I can't hit on men. You tell me to go up to a group of guys and make friends...no problem. You tell me to go up to the same group and hit on one of them...I'll purposefully run into traffic in an effort to escape. For some reason I missed Flirting 101 in middle school or whenever the hell life assigns that lesson. Putting myself out there makes me want to move to Africa and become one with lions. It's terrifying. To make matters even worse, when a guy hits on me one of two things occur: I am completely unaware that he is hitting on me OR I turn into a puddle a goo, including the loss of cognitive sentence forming and the function of most motor skills. According to my bestie, I am the most annoying person in the world to go to the club with. All the men who hit on me I am oblivious to, and all the men who don't hit on me I'm mad at. (Yet I don't hit on them because I'm too busy looking for a busy street to lay down in.) 
     I have this recurring dream that my life will turn out like a chick flick. Let me set it up for you. I'm the girl with the big personality who is shy when meeting guys and ends up injuring them instead of seeming coy and attractive. Meanwhile, the guy is lapping it up. He loves my quirkiness and overlooks his injuries I have inflicted. Back to reality and off the set, that's not how it works. I end up getting too nervous around someone I like, inflict injury, and am plastered with a warning perimeter no man dares to cross. (I actually succeeded in causing someone to get inside a dog kennel at a party once for safety.) Yea, that merits a guy thinking "She's so wonderful. As soon as I'm out of this body cast, I'm gonna sweep her off her feet." 
     In conclusion, this is why I hate first dates: Expectations are always too high. I'm expecting something out of a movie and he's expecting someone off a runway. The result is usually rejection. For the smart ones, it's not them. I know you have to allow yourself to be rejected. What I don't know is how to block that allowance. While I may be my own worst enemy, we're at least trying to work on it.