I THOUGHT I WAS "DAMAGED GOODS"...UNTIL THIS HAPPENED


It was a Saturday morning back in August 2004.  One of the state
qualifier BMX races was on, and as usual my friends and I were
planning to blow off a little steam by playing in the dirt.

Unfortunately, my plans were about to change.

I made a wrong move somewhere in practice and heard a loud SNAP.
Immediately I knew it was my left ankle.

Before I knew it, I was at the hospital.  That's where I got the
news that an orthopedic surgeon had been called in and they were
going to have to operate.

One day and several hot nurses to ease the pain later, I got in my
truck and went home.  Only now I had "tinkertoys" (in the form of
plates and screws) in my left leg and a cast that wouldn't be
coming off for at least eight weeks.

Interestingly, having immersed myself in studying how to get better
with women, it had only been maybe a week since I had gotten back
online for the first time in quite a while.

A couple of months prior I had decided to take my profile down and
really work on getting my game in order.

Now, with five days of "bed rest" ordered by the doctor, I would
have time to email lots of women.

There was only one problem.

In my mind, I was "damaged goods".  I mean, what woman in her right
mind is going to want to hang out with some guy who is hobbling on
crutches for the next two months?

So with my newly minted "limiting belief" tightly installed, I
figured I had nothing to lose really as far as writing women was
concerned.

After all, I wasn't going to be meeting any for at least then next
two friggin' months, right?

I'll never forget how dejected I felt.  If you know me well by now,
you know that I can't sit still in one place long enough to watch a
movie, let alone deal well with FIVE DAYS of "bed rest".

Thankfully, I had two things going for me.

First, a laptop with wireless Internet.  I had five days of forced,
immobilized "vacation" to work on my Match.com skills.

Second, if you'll note the date the incident happened, it was
exactly four years ago.  The Olympics were going on, and I'm a big
fan.  That meant there was ALWAYS something cool to watch on TV.

I'm eternally grateful to this day for both of those things.
Otherwise, I'd have gone nuts.

But it only took half a day for me to get utterly bored with my
existing profile and typical first emails.  The wheels began to
turn, and it occurred to me I had nothing to lose by mixing stuff
up a bit.

So I decided to put some theories I'd been reading about to the test.

I'd been hearing about how the "Mr. Nice Guy" thing doesn't work.
I'd also been reading about how a man has to be a sexual presence
in order to naturally interest women and ignite their feminine nature
in the best possible way.

For my entire life, however, I'd been conditioned to believe that
women are offended or even oppressed by male behavior.  And I'd
always thought that any indicator of male heterosexuality was an
affront to women.

The sexual harassment videos from the HR department at work
certainly hadn't helped matters any.

Nevertheless, one night I took a deep breath.  With my left leg raised
on a pile of pillows, and Paul Hamm winning the men's all-around
gymnastics gold, I changed my profile.

And by changing my profile, I changed my life.

The first line became, "Men are men, and women are women.  That's
the way it should be and that's the way I like it.  If you agree,
keep reading."

The way I saw it, there was to be no more groveling.  No more
trying to please everyone.  If women out there really wanted a man
to be direct and, well, frankly a little blunt, I was about to find out for
sure.

Next, I added a line that at the time I thought was sure to scare away
every single woman out there.  Yet, as skeptical as I was, I had to
try it.

The advice I had read was to be unafraid of showing my sexual side.

So the new line read, "I believe a woman should be kissed correctly
and kissed often."

My heart rate increased as I hit "save" on the profile.

Once approved (which still took about half a day back then), I
started writing women.

I sorted out the feminine cuties and focused on them.  After all,
that's who I tend to like.

The results floored me.  Women were not only responding, but
POWERFULLY.

One green-eyed sweetheart with a bright smile, light brown pixie-
like hair and a sundress wrote me the one e-mail that forever cured
me of my "Mr. Nice Guy" and "Mr. Neuter Guy" thinking.

The subject line was "WOW!" and in the message she wrote:


    I'm so glad you wrote me.

    I got to the line in your profile about "being kissed correctly
    and often" and my heart fluttered.

    YES!  I'm a girlie-girl through and through and I would LOVE to
    meet a real man for a change!

    Call me,

    Kerri

    (210-555-5555)


Within a half hour we were talking on the phone.

Two major limiting beliefs down, one to go.  How would I tell her I
was in a cast for two months?

The conversation was going great.  She had a sweet, feminine voice
and a kind heart.  Finally, it was time to talk about meeting in
person.

I told her, "Look, there's something you need to know.  I just
broke my leg and I'm in a cast for two months."

She responded with the expected "OMG...are you okay?" kind of stuff,
but what she said next is what shook me to the core.

"OK, so the five days of laying around the house must be so boring.
Why don't I take you out on Friday night--my treat?  We can celebrate
your being able to get out of the house again!"

"Um...what about the crutches and stuff?", I said.

"What's the big deal?", she replied.

There wasn't one to her.  Only to me.

Friday night we went out and had a blast.  Dinner turned into a
jazz club, which turned to staying out all night.

At one point, contrary to my doctors orders, I ditched the crutches
got around on my steel-reinforced left ankle as well as I could.

By the end of the night, she was jokingly calling me "Superman".  She
loved how I didn't let a temporary hindrance get in the way of having
fun.  And she loved being kissed correctly and often.

And what do you know--there was a second date.  And a third.  And
my leg healed up okay anyway.

Kerri and I ended up hanging out for months and months.  Ultimately,
it was I who decided she wasn't the right one for me long term.

Guys, it's obvious from all of this that being a man, being
unafraid of positioning yourself as a sexual presence and of course
CONFIDENCE really, really do work like magic with women.

And whatever your hang-ups are, it's likely there are women out
there who DO NOT share them with you.  So it's time to heave them
out the window.