Hands A Little Clammy

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Was listening to Opie and Anthony the other day and they were talking about being a sap for a girl. Given that we were coming up on Valentine's Day there was a lot of discussion about being young and liking a girl and being nervous about trying to reach out to her.

We've all been there, right?

I was a true sap for years and years.

I'd get real nervous about asking a girl her name even.

One Valentine's Day a college buddy stood with me at the mall and we handed out roses to every pretty girl that passed.

That didn't work.

And we all remember the excitement of buying a present for a crush and wondering what she thinks as she takes a look at it.

"I can't accept this," is not a great response.

And, of course, I've landed the beautiful Kathy Fazzolari so I must have had some charm, right?

She doesn't think so, of course, but it's difficult for her to tell me how lame I was, am, or will be because, after all, she did marry me.

So I must have had something going on.

I can almost hear her rebuttal now:

"I was drunk."

But the thing is whenever you think about those old days of being nervous about talking to a girl the same weird feelings come back.

I recall being in college. My roommate and I had a great idea to take two girls we had crushes on to an expensive dinner complete with drinks.

I'll never forget how I felt, playing gin rummy with my date, as he made out with his date a room away.

I recall thinking:

"Damn, I'm a loser."

And here we are all these years later.

My beautiful wife scored two Bruce tickets in Pittsburgh for Valentine's Day.

Who's laughing now, bitches!

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