Failure is a Lesson in Itself

The following names have been changed to protect the identities of those mentioned in this blog.

I'm about to get ready after five minutes! A shower cleanses my body and mouthwash waves around a storm in my mouth. My friend took my eye drops; I should have asked it back. I picked out a shirt that stands out, favorite jeans, brand new belt, black silk boxers, my trusty watch, a lucky necklace, diamond earrings matches me, black eyebrow piercing intact, corresponding shoes, and of course just plain socks. I go back into my room and try to remember what I forgot. Oh yes, my black jacket! I read in a book that the color black is a fashion precaution for men. My brother, his long time girlfriend, two friends enjoying a Friday night, and I leave the house. Yesterday, we went to a party.

One of the friends is named Anthony, whose own way of talking to people is opposite to mines. It was basically teaming Robin Williams' over the top high energy portrayals with Dave Chapelle's racial parodies. It's the same comedy game, but different style to perform. A cup halfway filled with Hennessey in my hand was ready to be consumed. I see the room filled with a lot of people: both male and female. Every guy I interacted with was cool and talking was at ease. The women were in groups preventing their instant to be alone. I approached many girls who were friendly and let's face it tipsy. At that moment I failed.

There were many windows of opportunities to take action yet I choked. I new what to do and how to do it; however, time freezes my skills as they melted. Girls bumped into me playfully, complimented my stand out shirt, praised my lucky necklace, engaged into the conversation, and their eyes were focused on me. I introduced Anthony to a couple of girls I was talking to. Talking to Kelly was cool; however, I felt that I didn't have enough time to build attraction. Anthony would talk to her friend, Cindy, and it was apparent we were not on the same page. Anthony was focused on his new companion while I was attempting to bring the group together in conversation. There was moments that I felt I needed his help and there was moments were I could of helped him too. Anthony's success later on was due to his own style of social interactions. They were hitting it off as old friends would. The girl I was talking to left the venue and that was the last time I would ever see her. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye or exchange numbers to further the conversation.

At home, I explained to my brother that I messed up. He simply asked, "What would your mentor say?" I told him that he would tell me it's not a big deal and move on. He asked me again, "What would your mentor say?" I announced that I had no idea. My brother explained, "He would tell you that it's your fault because you should have taken action by teaching Anthony how to be your style of a wing." I said it was common sense though. "It's not common sense; he was focused on his style without any regard to yours because you didn't teach him." Although Anthony had the option to help me, it was ultimately my mistake for not taking action in many ways. I knew he was right and I remembered something. There's nothing much you can do from failure than to learn from it and become better the next time. Lesson learned.