Men in Cages: Fearlessness - Now In Liquid Form

Fear is all about exercising judgment.  It's the product of an internal assessment of risks.  We gauge a situation to be fraught with danger and our worries, doubts, and apprehensions kick in. 

Fortunately, this means that there's an easy method by which to overcome any fear.  You simply need to overcome your ability to exercise judgment.  That is to say, you need to get crunk.

I wouldn't describe myself as a particularly fearful person.  Even when sober, my judgment is far from impeccable.  Consequently, there are lots of things I should be hesitant to do that I have no problem just up and doing.

That being said, we all have fears.  We all get nervous from time to time.  Even the boldest among us wimp out when we perceive great potential for bodily harm or extreme social embarrassment.  There's some scary shit out there.  If you tell me that you're not afraid of bears, you're lying.  Bears are really f'n scary.  You know what else is scary?  Getting up the nerve to talk to the cool girl.

Meet Erica:

I am not friends with Erica.  In fact, I hardly know her.  (Yes, it is entirely inappropriate that I'm plastering pictures of my non-friend all over the internet.  I have shoddy judgment.  Get over it.)  Anyway, Erica was THE head lesbian when I was in college.  I honestly have no idea what earned her this esteemed honor, but I suspect it had something to do with her fierce accessories and even fiercer haircut.  Everyone worshiped and adored Erica.  My friend Kim used a picture of Erica as her AIM buddy icon.  Erica was that cool.

I was terrified by the notion of actually talking to Erica.  My freshman year, my buddy Vince lived in the same dorm as Erica.  He was on the 6th floor; she was on the 2nd.  I would visit Vince, excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and then take the elevator four floors down, walk past Erica's dorm room, and take the elevator back up.  We didn't even refer to Erica by name back then.  She was too fabulous.  She was simply "Second Floor Girl." 

I don't know if I ever formally "met" Erica.  Kim and I definitely found out when and where Erica's birthday party was happening one year and made a point of attending, but I'm fairly sure that we just spent the party standing in a corner whispering about how exciting it was to be in the presence of Erica. 

Once, at some other party, I had a bit to drink.  Not a ton to drink.  But an amount greater than zero, to be sure.  Anyway, the lovely and talented Miss Erica happened to be at this party as well.  As I said, though, I'd only had a bit to drink; speaking to Erica remained an impossibility.  But, the alcohol had begun to eat away at some of my fears, so speaking to Erica's girlfriend suddenly struck me as entirely doable.  I introduced myself to Erica's ladyfriend and prompted her to tell me about herself.  "I'm the captain of the rugby team," she informed me.  (Obviously Erica's girlfriend would be the captain of the rugby team.)  "Oh really?" I replied.  "You know, I'm the head of the marching band.  Hey - we're both leaders of campus organizations!"  I was sure ladyfriend and I would immediately hit it off.  Ladyfriend was not impressed.

You'd think I would have overcome my fear of approaching Erica by the time I reached my senior year, but no.  She got cooler and cooler every year and this only prompted my fear to increase dramatically in severity.  (Lest ye judge me, if you think you can imagine how cool this girl was, you're wrong.  She was a legend in her own time.  I'm certain that the simple statement of her name still prompts titillated giggles in the hills of upstate New York.)

As finals wound down that year, it seemed Erica and I would part ways without ever having a conversation.  But, as luck would have it, just days before graduation, I ran into Erica at a bar.  Or, more accurately, I was in a bar, being extremely drunk, and in walked Erica. 

For the previous four years, Erica's mere presence had crippled me with fear.  But that night was different.  That night I was INEBRIATED!  Whatever I had been afraid of for so long (presumably, Erica giving me an incredulous stare and informing me that I wasn't awesome enough to associate with her) mattered no longer.  My judgment was non-existent.  I only knew one truth: that night was to be the night of Tori and Erica.

Fearless, I sauntered on up to Erica (followed by a friend I had forced to photo-document the event) and said, "Hi Erica!"  Much to my delight, she didn't walk away or anything.  In what could easily have been mistaken for a pleasant tone, she replied, "Hey."  I hadn't really planned things out any further than the greeting, so I was suddenly overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation.  "Could I have my picture taken with you?" I blurted out.  "Uh, sure," she said.  The extent to which this interaction was going better than I ever could have imagined possible rendered me cocky and I went on to ask, "So, um, could I be touching your boob in the picture?"  This time she said, "Uh, no."

Whatever, I still got my picture taken with Erica:

In summary, I acheived my dreams and overcame my fears not through diligence or persistence, but through the ingestion of saki bombs. 

And I think that's the moral we all should take away from this week.  Yeah man, life can be scary.  In this crazy world we live in - a world replete with girls who are out of our league and mind-controlling parasites and suspicious packages and Dakota Fannings - we're bound to get frightened from time to time.  But the world gives us a solution to this problem: alcohol.

So take a lesson from me, go ask the cool girl if you can grab her boob.  Or, you know, act with a comparable lack of judgment in a manner more applicable to your specific situation . . . Phylan, throw back a few and then challenge a camel spider to a race.  D.C., down some shots and tell the next Metro official you see that he can suck on your "suspicious package" if he keeps you waiting for another instant.  And Lauren, um, I don't know . . . ask Dakota to join you for drinks at the top of a really tall building and then push her over the edge?

Men in Cages" runs Friday afternoons.  You can read more about Tori here.

Comments

[EmGusk]

hahaha tori, you're funny. i hope erica finds this column and gives you a call

[B-Woll]

Ok, great post and all Tori, but I have a bone to pick with all your fellow bloggers. Why is there no mention of THE PICKLE GIRL! http://youtube.com/watch?v=Qv0CIdvEnMY

YouTub? Emily's Quiz? Who the hell would be afraid of pickles? Other than this girl, of course.

[D.C.]

Um... Emily did mention pickle girl.

[D.C.]

I had a fear of confronting feminists who want to take back the night. I got drunk and went up to them rather aggressively and said "Listen, sweethearts..."

And that's as far as I got when the pepper spray came out.

[Tori]

God, that Erica, she was ALWAYS taking back the night. Frankly, after all her efforts, I don't know that there's any night left to be taken.

[Buddy Love]

"So take a lesson from me, go ask the cool girl if you can grab her boob."

Pay attention. These are life lessons, kids!

Nice work, Tori.

[Lauren]

The thing that strikes me most about this article is that its lessons are very true.

[B-Woll]

oops. my bad. serves me right for skimming these posts. soory.

[Alex]

When I saw what this post was about, I squealed and bounced in my chair (this is a first for me).

That was a great night. I thought you and Kim were going to explode.