MY LIFE: No! I Don't Want To Be A Frightened, Scrawny 14-Year-Old Nerd Boy Again!

This is from me, and NOT some reprinted material. - OlderMusicGeek

So I stood in front of her. Not saying a word. My eyes staring at those fingers sitting on phone's keyboard, waiting for a response from me.

It was a simple enough question. Quite simple actually. And I knew the answer. I rattled it off on quite a regular basis. But now, I just stood perfectly still in front of her like a deer in headlights, waiting for the truck to slam 70 miles per hour into it.

And what exactly brought me to this sorry, embarrassing state? There lies a stupid, silly, foolish tale. Fortunately for you, dear reader, not really a very long one.


I was at a musical festival and saw this wonderful band that did an interesting blend of old time rock and roll with alternative rock. Even did a good cover of “Folsom Prison Blues”! I made a mental note to add them as a Facebook and MySpace friend so I would know when they were playing next.

Then a later band, that was giving shout outs to all the bands that played that day, mentioned that the band I liked was giving away a cd with three of their songs... for free! I groaned in frustration in having missed out! And I had actually seen the lead singer earlier and told her I liked her music, but it was in the middle of another band's set and I just saw her in passing, so that was the extent of the conversation.

Well, later as I'm coming out of the building, who should be heading for the building but that cute little lead singer!

And I won't lie! She was damn cute!

I don't know if this has anything to do with anything, but... I am a male-to-female transsexual who has just started transitioning. So I still look pretty “guy-ish” and was going about as a male. And my sexual preference can best be described as confused, but bisexual works well as anything!

And I will say this cute lead singer had this sweet hippie look going on with this long straight black hair, long dangling “crafty”-type earings, adorable silver frame librarian type glasses, a white spaghetti strap t-shirt, and some ripped jeans to finish the effect.


So anyway, I stop her and tell her that I heard they were giving away free cd's.

She suddenly gets a look of disappointment on her face. “Oh, sorry, we did! But we're out now!”

Urgh! Curses!

Then she follows with, “Well, could I get your information, so I can send you to the website?”

“Uh, sure!”

And that, dear readers, is when it happened.

She got out her phone, looked up at me with her soft eyes and asked me THE question.

“Can I get your phone number?”


What can I say? I just froze up. Completely, totally and utterly.

And my poor brain was running at overdrive. Part of my head was going, “Wha? Huh? Wait? What did she say? That can't be right. No, okay, now wait.”

Another part of my brain is trying to be all reasonable about this. “Okay, calm down. Let's think this though. There might be another explanation. You really weren't that into her before now. And she's probably half your age! And closer to your daughter's age than you!”

A third part of the brain is going, “Hey, idiot, she just wants your number to promote her band!”

That last part of my brain might have saved me and set me straight, except in most of my brain, there was basically a huge alarm clanging super loudly from different locations while a whole bunch of red lights, like the ones on top of police cars, twirled around and around, and a mechanical voice screamed, “Danger! Danger! Does not compute! Does not compute!”

If smoke was billowing out of my ears, I would not have been surprised!

What can I say? I haven't been much of a lady catcher, due to being a shy nerd and, more than likely, the fact that, until recently, I was a transsexual in repression and hiding it from myself.


So I stood there in front of her with my eyes staring at her fingers sitting on her phone for what felt like five to ten minutes, though was probably actually less than one.

“Well, that is if you don't mind?” I suddenly heard her say.

I was then quickly knocked out of the evil spell.

I mumbled yes and quietly gave her my number, and with prompting, my name and email.

Then being the suave, sophisticated guy I am, I said I would check out her band again if I wasn't busy with my thirteen-year-old daughter.

Yeah, great, I'm sure mentioning my thirteen-year-old daughter proved I had no interest in her and I wasn't a blubbering idiot because I was attracted to her.

Anyway, after that, I mumbled a fast good-bye, scurried away quickly as possible and prayed I wouldn't see her for the rest of the festival. And wondered what the freak I was going to do if she recognized me at her next show!