Imagine yourself in the following scenario:
You’re sitting on an antique couch in your local coffeehouse, your feet propped up on the small, knee-high table in front of you, your laptop resting on your legs. You pretend to peck away at the keyboard while surreptitiously scanning the room for cute girls. It’s late afternoon on a Sunday. The room is large and crowded with people chatting, working, and lounging on crappy chairs and sofas sipping from oversized mugs, including a young couple snuggling in an adjacent chair next to you.
A girl walks up and sits on the couch opposite yours about six feet away, facing you, with the coffee table in between. She is your ideal girl — here you will picture in your mind what she looks like. (For me, that happens to be mid-20s, pale skin, dark hair, big eyes, high cheekbones and petite.)
You think… you’re not sure… that she briefly glanced at you as she sat down and settled into the couch. If so, she saw you checking her out. Eyes met, your heart fluttered. You’re not sure about the flutter status of her heart, but you assume it kept a steady indifferent beat. She pulls out a laptop — a Macbook, you note to yourself — lifts the screen and studiously peruses its contents. You look down at your monitor and a vice suddenly grips your chest as the realization dawns on you that if you don’t try to meet this girl the regret and frustration afterwards will haunt you for weeks.
I’ve described for you everything you need to know. So…
What do you do?
(You girls may answer what you would want the guy to do. Not that it will matter. We advanced experts of the human condition are smart enough to know not to take seriously anything a woman *says* she wants in regards to pickup.)