As Raymond was about to open his mouth and give his self-introduction, he looked at Miss Interpretation’s pretty face, and something felt very wrong. Very very wrong. So wrong that Raymond’s mouth was sealed shut and anxiety encompassed him. He felt a burning feeling in his chest that tried to constrain his every action. It was as if there was a war going on inside of his body.
His heart started beating so fast he felt as if he was one heartbeat away from a heart attack.
He sweat profusely all over his body.
The top half of his body was completely petrified like a rabbit that had just seen a fox.
His legs locked together and shook violently.
He pointed his head down to avoid eye contact.
Raymond wondered why he felt this way, and he soon figured out why. It was because he had come to an epiphany. The epiphany that in order to get girls to fall for him he had to actually talk to them. Now of course, Raymond knew he had to talk to girls to get them to love him, but he didn’t think he had to actually talk to them. He thought he would just have to say a few sentences here and there and show off his kind personality. Maybe he’d give a girl a favor. Then a girl would find him cute and she’d be his. But now he had to have a serious conversation with a girl, and the fact that he unexpectedly just had to have one now made him realise that he was going to have to do this a couple more times before a girl fell for him.
If this conversation came so unexpectedly, then that must mean I need to be prepared to give more conversations like this one. Conversations that will undoubtedly happen considering they can happen anywhere, anytime.
And these kinds of conversations posed a massive problem. Why? Because aside from that one incident in 8th grade, Raymond had been an incredibly socially anxious and inept loser his entire life. In fact, in that moment he believed that there wasn’t a single person in his state of California that had as bad interpersonal skills as him. And Raymond’s social issues multiplied exponentially when it came to talking to people he was attracted to.
Whenever he had tried to talk to people, he had always felt painful burning sensations that felt like they were trying to constrain every muscle in his body, and because of it he would either not talk, or talk improperly. This would cause him to fail to interact with “normies" (what Raymond liked to refer to "normal people" as), and have to make what little friends he could with the “weirdos” in his area. Chatting it up with weirdos of course just means that he was never able to talk to normies. Because he couldn’t talk to normies, he tried to avoid them. Since he avoided them he either didn’t interact with anyone or had to talk to weirdos. Because he didn’t talk to normies, he grew to dislike being around them. And because of that, he tried to avoid them. And this downward spiral feedback loop continued and still continues to go on and on. And up until now Raymond felt that all because he now had something resembling a plan, he could easily get out of that loop, and not just get a friend, but a girlfriend. But of course, things aren’t all that simple. All because you have a plan doesn’t in any way mean it’s going to succeed. He had to seriously talk to a girl, something that made him anxious, and even if he could suppress his nerves, he’d been a nerdy antisocial talentless loser his entire life and had nothing good to say about himself.
I thought they gave up on these “bully the awkward kid” bullshit rituals back in middle school, but it seems like I’ll never escape these things.
Raymond knew he couldn’t just sit there and had to think of something to say. Raymond began to think of a plan to overcome his fear of speaking to Miss Interpretation.
Okay, I’ll start my self-introduction on the count of five.
One...
Two...
Three...
Four...
Five...
Six...
Seven…
Eight...
Wait, I counted past Five!
Now having failed his own defense mechanism, Raymond began to panic.
Mayday Mayday!
This ship is about to crash.
Everyone get into the lifeboats as fast as possible.
Oh no it’s too late!
AHHHHHHHH!
And that was when Raymond was hit with a second epiphany.
My Plan isn’t “How to Cure a Single Boyfriend”, it’s “How to Fix a Moronic Incel”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
He began to wonder what sick god looked at his life resume filled monkey spanking and Sonic the Hedgehog playing. A resume where there would be a section titled “Previous Sexual Experience” and all there would be in that section are the words, “Be sure to write something here before you submit!”. And after that sick god looked at his life resume he said, “Oh yea, I’m sure THAT guy would make a great romance protagonist!”
But then Raymond realized that the “sick god” was himself. He was the one that decided he would try to get a girlfriend.
Though there was no reason talking to her should have been this hard. Raymond started pondering about his current situation.
Wait, there’s no way I’d be this anxious if this happened a year ago, and I’m not even doing any serious romance protagonist kind of stuff. How is it possible that I’m feeling this way? Sure I’m talking to the woman I’ve already shipped myself with, and my social anxiety has always been terrible, but there’s no reason it should be this bad. What could have happened between my high school graduation and now that caused me to become such a little bitch?
And that’s when Raymond came to his third epiphany.
God dammit, I must have spanked my monkey so hard I’ve become retarded!
…
Well actually, the reason I feel this way might have something to do with the lonely summer months leading up to this day.
At this point, Raymond and Miss Interpretation had been sitting in awkward silence for about ten seconds. With his anxiety starting to decreased a little from the passing of time, Raymond thought up another plan to get himself to give a self-introduction. Raymond decided that he didn’t have to be truthful, and could just say whatever was sitting at the bottom of his mind. His introduction didn’t even have to be fully conscious. If what he said was more or less just his stream of consciousness, he could talk without battling his nerves too much. He just had to fill the air with his words. Of course he would have to filter out his dirty thoughts in order for his plan to work. So in other words, he could only speak 10% of his mind.
Raymond took a deep breath and started talking, "H-hello m-my name i-is Raymond Mcgregory. I l-live in California. I own a dog. I love my dog. I pet my dog every day. I want to work as a zoo keeper and I like to eat shiitake mushrooms. Heh heh heh heh"
Raymond realised that there was so much wrong with what he had just said. First, it was obvious he lived in California. If not, how the hell was he attending his school? Second, he spent half of his introduction talking about his dog. And third, he didn’t even own a dog.
Raymond wanted to speak up and correct himself, but just as he was about to open his mouth Miss Interpretation responded to Raymond in a soft monotone voice,
“................Okay.”
Raymond’s heart pulsated violently.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! SHE ACTUALLY TALKED TO ME! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I HAD A NORMAL CONVERSATION WITH A GIRL MY AGE? AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN OSTRACIZE ME FOR WHAT I SAID! I’M SO HAPPY! THIS CALLS FOR A SPECIAL CELEBRATION!!!
...
Actually, should I be worried that I just considered that to be a “normal conversation”?
Now that Raymond had gone through hell and back and returned relatively unscathed, he felt very relieved. In fact, Raymond was so relieved that when Miss Interpretation gave her self-introduction, he just sat there thinking about how relieved he was and didn’t listen to a single word she said. After Miss Interpretation was done speaking, class resumed and the teacher took up nearly the next two hours of class talking about some stupid trite like “the benefits of getting a good night’s sleep!”
Towards the end of the class Raymond heard something that really got his attention.
“On the first day of week three there will be a little group project due. You and the same partner you gave your class introduction too will be in a two person group and the two of you will blah blah blah blah blah blah.”
The teacher went on and on about how the project was going to improve people’s interpersonal skills or some useless dribble like that. However in the dribble Raymond heard the teacher say, “Since we don’t have much time in class to do the project, you and your partner will have to meet outside of class in order to finish it.”
To Raymond the teacher’s words meant one thing: a date.
SHIT
JUST
GOT
REAL!!!
Burning excitement and dreadful fear duked it out inside of Raymond’s head, and fear was winning. He had never been on a date. He was shaking. Or at least he would have been shaking if the teacher didn’t want the class to partake in one last bullshit ritual, as the teacher wanted the whole class to get into a circle and talk about the class norms. Raymond unenthusiastically got up from his seat and got into the circle.
After everyone got into the circle the teacher said, “This circle looks more like an oval. Some people should hold hands to help turn this oval into an actual circle.”
Holding hands? What are we in kindergar-
Raymond paused his thoughts when he felt something grab one of his hands. He turned his head and looked to see what it was. It was Miss Interpretation. She was grabbing one of his hands. One of his sweaty greasy disgusting hands.
HOLY FUCK! MY WISH OF ROMANTICALLY HOLDING HANDS (almost) CAME TRUE (and it was with a girl too)!
A shock wave of pleasure and confidence pulsated through Raymond’s spine, went to his brain, and finally made its way into his pants.
If I can just lift my social anxiety, I could show Miss Interpretation the full brunt of my outstanding personality and get her to fall for me on our date. I have the sweetness of 50 Twinkies combined, the mental strength of the warriors from the myths that my ancestors told, wittier than Albert Einstein and Dr. Seuss combined, and I can get into a woman’s head better than Dr. Phil could ever wish he could. I’m about to soar higher than the most potted up of pot heads to ever exist! Look out world, a new romance hero has been born! First, hand holding. Next, the world!
Little did Raymond know that by believing that the personality he possessed was something exceptional, he was merely believing in the same thing that those who actually do manage to remember things that never happened believe in:
Their imagination.
And by believing in his imagination, he was creating the same thing that a fool who rides on a merry-go-round and then has the idiocy to brag about how fast his horse is creates:
A delusion.
Fortunately for Raymond however, he had some time to prepare for his date with destiny. Maybe he could make something out of nothing.