I did something incredible at Aeoropostale today

I wasn't looking forward to tonight. "Just another set of meaningless platonic conversations," I thought as I was people watching at the mall. "When will I start get good? End this dry spell? Find someone that I actually like?" Everyone at the mall looked like they were either in high school, or had children that were in high school. I didn't know where to start.

After a moping session at Nordstrom's I amble into Aeoropostale. Like an actor I give a frat boy "whazzup" to the male greeter at the door. The room was filled with middle school students. I honestly thought I was going to see someone from second period. Then the universe handed me a glimmer of hope.

She was working the register when I first caught a glimpse of her busily in the midst of returning a product. She had long, perfectly combed brunette hair and a dimple on her upper lip. Her eyes were something to marvel, bright blue, but wide, with something of an Arabian shape. She was not cute, not yet sexy, not hot, but beautiful, and I knew I had to approach her. She was a hired gun, so I had no excuse. She was paid to take my compliment, no matter how poorly I delivered it.

How could I compliment her while she was working the register? I tried on three different shirts while I contemplated this issue. Perhaps a few months from now I would be able to run a 100-meter dash and stop a woman in a moving vehicle to tell her she's sexy. But that's a few months from now. I was in no mood to try any tricks, and I didn't feel qualified either-- I had to compliment a woman first, by lame AFC ways if necessary.

She walked away from the register for about a minute. NOW! I thought. But I clammed up. I finally decided that if I was going to compliment this woman, I was going to have to buy something. Buying a cheap shirt from clearance would also buy me two minutes of time with her that I could say what I needed to say. My heart was thumping, and my forehead sweat as I stepped in line.

Two teenage girls were ahead of me. A hot model was behind me. I knew if anything went wrong, I would not only be embarassed in front of the girl, but also the hot model behind me. The pressure was on. My palms sweat as I thought about how badly I looked without gel in my hair.

HER: Find everything alright?
ME: Yup.
HER: Your total comes to $10.21.
I hand her my credit card.
HER: Credit or debit?
ME: Debit.
HER: Enter your pin.
ME: I know this might sound a little awkward, but I have to tell you this or else I'm going to be kicking myself all night. And that is, I think your beatifull.
HER: Thank you, that's very sweet of you. :)

I walk away. Mission accomplished.

I've never felt so good complimenting a woman before. True, I felt like a strange foreign guy who went strip clubs and told the strippers they were beautiful because he had no other social skills. But, I had successfully put all my vulnerability on the line.

The last time I told stranger she was beautiful was in college. It didn't work. That girl didn't believe me, because I was trying to hard to act smooth. With Carly, I let my nervousness flow freely onto the cash register. She knew I was sincere, and she probably has never had a guy do that before. Perhaps she didn't think she was even deserving of that type of compliment-- until now. It didn't matter that I was acting a little like Borat. I showed that I meant it, and that was enough to make her feel good.

I wonder what the hot model behind me thought.