When I first stumbled across the idea of catch and release a couple of years ago, I thought, "are you fucking nuts? what a recipe for disaster..."

fast forward to last week.

I'm waiting at a place that makes a great, healthy lunch. It's attached to a gym in a pretty nice part of town. Attractive women in workout clothes are consistently coming through this place.

So I'm flipping through the paper and the girl behind the counter asks me about my order. When I answered, she sorta giggled. So I inquired, "sorry, is that an odd request for that sort of order?"

"VERY"

"You just called me odd..." I shrugged, "I've been called much worse"

And then I hear a laugh coming from the table behind me. The sort of laugh that was made to be heard. When I turned to see who it was, a really attractive 30 something year old is staring at me, smiling.

I turned and went back to reading the paper and waiting for my order.

Then something in my brain just, for lack of a better term, flipped. What would happen if I asked for her number.

So here's something you need to understand as you read the next part. It will read like I'm a cool customer that can handle something like this without worry.

Fan Fiction, right?

Inside, let me tell you, I'm fucking terrified. More terrified than I've been in years. This is not in my character, not something I ever would have considered doing. I decided 2017 is the year I start taking my personal development more seriously. It's the year I get my head screwed on right. The year I take chances. That means getting comfortable in uncomfortable situations and doing things that make me nervous.

I walked up to her table and standing in front of her, said

"hey there, how's your lunch?"

"It great, thanks"

I reminded myself to keep the body language strong, shoulders squared and a slight smirk.

"Good, listen, I'd like you to give me your phone number"

She smiles. She's wearing a wedding ring. So am I.

"hahah, umm, why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you for it"

"And what do you plan on doing with it?"

"When you give it to me, you might find out"

"I don't give my phone number to people I don't know"

And then the first great development happened. In my mind, my heart still fucking racing, I think, I don't care if I get it or not, the goal was approaching an attractive woman, not dating her

"Cool, look, my lunch is ready, enjoy your meal"

and start walking away

"Wait"

I turn, smirk firmly on my face

"what's up?"

"Does your wife know you ask strange women for their phone numbers"

"Nope", now smiling, as is she.

"What would she think if she found out?"

"She wouldn't like it. One.little.bit"

And with that, the fucking HOOK IS SET. The old me would have likely made a /u/saint_chalet shaped hole in the drywall at the mention of my wife, running out of that place. But I realized the sheer thrill of taking another woman's man, even the possibility of it, had this woman's very keen interest. She wanted this.

"You don't even know my name"

"Nope"

"Are you going to tell me yours?"

"Nope"

"And you expect me to give you my phone number without even exchanging names?"

"I do, yes"

She is almost shaking and I'm trying not to make this sound like fan fic nonsense. This woman is beyond excited about what's happening here. For me, at this point, I'm actually calming down inside. I've come to realize that I do not care whether she hands over her phone number or not.

"Hand me your phone, I'll punch it in"

"I'm not going to do that, here's a pen, write it down"

She reaches into her purse and writes her number on a napkin.

"Thanks" and I turn to grab my lunch and leave

"So you're going to txt me?"

One last smile, "yeah, I might"

And I left. I tossed the napkin in the bin a few blocks away.

I basically floated back to the office, so fucking pumped about what just happened.

A few things became crystal clear:

• By not caring about the outcome, I got exactly what I wanted
• My wife's opinion of me used to be the prime directive in what I was willing to do. I went into this little exchange not giving a shit about whether she found out I asked a woman for her phone number. If she somehow found out, I'd say, "I was having some fun" and that's the end of it.
• a well dressed, fit, likely affluent married woman is willing to give her phone number to a random middle aged 7/10 guy in a lunch spot. So will your wife.
  

My wife has been pretty awful lately. Frigid. This little exchange was the log I needed to keep warm by my own fire. I walked in the door that night and just grabbed the kids and went off to do a bunch of stuff with them. I don't even remember talking to my wife.