(For Part 1, see
http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,1576225,1576225#msg-1576225. I hope my experiences help others find their way through the thickets of Ex-mo romance).
*********************
I should elaborate a bit on the "cobra strike" idea I mentioned in Part One.
As someone who had met his "eternal companion" only a few weeks after returning home from a Mormon mission, and who'd gotten engaged shortly thereafter, I had no real experience in approaching girls. But as I said, I came up with a few guiding ideas right off the bat to help me in my quest, figuring I could adjust as I went along.
One of them was "the cobra strike". The concept emerged from something I had noticed a few times: every once in a while, for some weird reason, two people just instantly click. It had even happened to me a few times, even though, as a married guy, I'd never done anything about it. I'd noticed that when it happened to other guys, often they were so bashful in that moment, they kind of let the moment slip by. So, I thought to myself, I won't make that mistake.
The Cobra Strike was simple: no matter where I was, no matter what reason said, no matter what insecurities or nerves might normally be there or what they might say about whether someone *ought* to like me...when it's on, I strike - in that instant. Zap. Standing in a line at the grocery store and we click? Zap. Not only no overthinking - no *thinking*. Just...strike.
My first cobra strike came one night when I had jumped onstage for a few numbers with the house band at a local pub. I spotted, standing in the back, a stunning blonde who I had met briefly in passing a couple of weeks earlier. In the split second I spotted her, some animal part of me picked up on something, and said to me, "it's on".
I was surprised by that; I didn't really even know her. But...I'd already developed my basic theory, and I was bent on my first test. The song ended, and as it happened, the set ended just then, too. I put down my guitar, walked offstage, and walked toward her. There was eye contact as I walked; and in a moment altogether bizarre given my history as an ultra-conservative Mormon for the previous three and a half decades, I walked right up to her and started making out with her - without even a word beforehand.
It turned out my "Cobra Radar" was correct; she smooched back. We moved into the hallway and smooched more. And more. It was hot and sexy. I was elated: my radar, God knows how, was functional even after thirty-five years of idolizing Ezra Taft Benson, and the Cobra Strike was working big-time.
I didn't end up pursuing that particular possibility for reasons which don't concern us here, but...I was emboldened. I could sense a kind of keen animal instinct, perhaps long dormant or at least tightly controlled by Mormonism, assuming its natural form within. Maybe, just maybe, I really could successfully navigate non-Mormon romance, despite all the baggage and programming.
Another cobra strike occurred one day after rugby practice. I stopped into a boutique deli a few blocks from the field, and there was a beautiful young woman with amazing, arctic blue eyes. I glanced. She glanced. We both broke into smiles. It felt like we knew each other.
"Were you at Mount Washington (ski resort) last week?", she said.
"Yeah, actually. How'd you know?"
"I saw you there".
"Cool. Well, nice to meet you, I'm Tal".
"I'm K", she said.
There it was - Animal Sensors screamed: "it's on!".
Well - to be honest, I paused. There were people everywhere, and I was a lot older than K. I also had two of my kids in the car outside waiting (they would play in the bushes during my rugby practices). I couldn't stay, people were waiting to pay...it just didn't seem like I could strike right then and there, so I said bye and walked out.
We drove a mile or two and pulled into the drugstore (where I had to get a few things). I figured the deli was probably less busy now. And I'd only been there five minutes earlier. Maybe *now* I could Cobra Strike.
I called the deli and asked for K.
"Hi K - it's Tal. I was just in there".
"Oh - hey!", she said.
"Listen - I'm sitting in with the band down at Bard and Banker tonight. I want you to come with me."
Would it work?, I wondered.
"Oh wow - actually...um...yeah! That sounds fun! I'd love to. I've been wanting to check that place out".
"8 ok?"
"Yeah!", she said, and gave me her address.
I hung up the phone.
Oh. My. God.
I could not believe how easy this was. WHAT THE...? I got off my mission and spent hours and hours and hours agonizing over whether to ask out the brunette from Idaho in Galderisi's Poli-Sci class - and all along, it was THIS easy? All I had to do was *lay it down, hallelujah?* PAH-RAISE THE LORD.
And so it was that at 8:20 that night, I strode into the Bard and Banker with my cheery, raven-haired, blue-eyed date - who I'd only met a few hours earlier, and who I knew absolutely nothing about - and met up with my buddies and their girlfriends. K was cool, friendly, and (maybe oddly) seemed to be excited to be out with me despite the age difference. Everyone instantly liked her. I liked her, too. We sat down, and she ordered an entire pitcher of beer and began talking about how much she enjoyed blowing things up with her daddy's shotgun. She also mentioned that her daddy was a butcher, and that she was highly carnivorous.
I couldn't believe my luck. I'd already been out with a few girls who'd talked for like a solid hour about their astrological signs and their stupid tattoos and their bizarre fad diets. Now, after a simple Cobra Strike when it was "on", here I was with a hottie who, in looks and general approach to life, seemed like she could have just walked off a "Dukes of Hazzard" TV set - and what was more, she seemed like she was having a great time. No more astrology, no more "end of Western Civilization" vibe...just beer, guns, meat, friendliness, strikingly beautiful, laughed hard at all my jokes, and comfortable with herself. What more could any man hope for?
On a follow-up date, I took K to the outdoor shooting range, where we blew up clay pigeons and then drank more beer. (She left town shortly thereafter to attend a college course and wound up getting married about a year later, but we're still friendly).
In any case, I was sold on the Cobra Strike. I'd tried it on two girls, both of whom were stunning and quite a bit younger, and all I'd had was great response. So...why not keep it going?
I had my chance a month later, when my brother and I spotted the most gorgeous ginger either of us had ever seen, about to walk into an elevator. The Cobra Strike that ensued was on a whole other level - now that I think about it, it seems almost insane. But...more on that next time.
Feel free to post any related personal experiences below.
May ex-mo romance live on,
Dr. Love
Edited 4 time(s). Last edit at 05/21/2015 01:55AM by Tal Bachman.