There is a moment in every young(-ish) man's life where he must rise up. Where he must take a stand. Where the shackles of reason and doubt should be tossed aside, not only for the good of a Weekly Volcano article, but for the good of the soul.

Yes, dear readers, there comes a time in every man's life when he should approach a woman at a bar and ask for her number. 

And for me, that time is now. 

I've approached women before, but never in a place like O'Henrys sports bar in Puyallup. Half dance floor and half sports bar, O'Henrys isn't the bustling hipster's paradise I tend to frequent on my own. The O'Henrys  crowd is young, buff and tough. Most of the patrons wear tight shirts. I overhear more than one conversation about UFC fights. The dance floor is empty and people crowd around the pool tables and dartboards. All around, O'Henrys is a different spot to approach a stranger.  Plus, there's a heavy contingent of locals and a 3-to-1 guy to girl ratio. I spend most of the evening jotting down notes and stuffing my face with free popcorn (a welcomed perk).   

Then, just when I'm about to leave, I see her. Sitting at the bar with a friend; no buff guys in sight. She's short and tan. Cute, too. Playing it coy, I keep my eyes locked in her direction. She looks at me. Once. Twice. This is all I need. I swallow my beer, take a couple deep breaths and walk over to the bar. Trying desperately to calm my racing heart, I sidle up next to her and lay down the best line I can imagine: "Excuse me. Were you, um, looking at me?" 

This tan vixen takes one glance at me and shrugs. "I look at everybody," she says.

With that, she turns back around and continues chatting with her friend. I immediately head to my car. 

Yes, readers, there comes a time in every man's life when he must brazenly approach a stranger and try to hit on her. Best of luck to you.  

O'Henrys Clubhouse and Grill

715 River Road, Puyallup
253.445.1724