(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.

I am not angling for a compliment here - I'm curious to know whether anyone cares whether I keep going on this. If so, I'll keep going, but if not, no worries at all.

I won't take anything personally. I realize this is maybe unbecomingly autobiographical. Just wondering if people care about this sort of stuff.

It reads like a bunch of one night stands. If that's your thing or whatever then good on you. What went wrong with these women? Personally, I look for more of a connection and common interests before jumping all in.

jambo Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> It reads like a bunch of one night stands. If
> that's your thing or whatever then good on you.

Just be sure to use a condom. Even if you are circumcised ;-)

I have not mentioned sex yet, Jambo - because I did not sleep with anyone I've mentioned.

Criticisms are fine, as long as they are not based on your inability to read, or your own personal hallucinations.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/21/2015 01:42PM by Tal Bachman.

My reading comprehension skills are just fine. The original title to your series is: One Man's Adventures in Ex-Mormon Love and Sex.

Comments such as "it's on" and "hot and sexy" do not require hallucinations to conlude that there was sex. One night stands are common occurrences. Whether it is, or isn't, your thing doesn't matter to me. Just telling you what it reads like.

Hi Tal,

Keep it up please. I'm in a similar position in life (except without the guitar) and am enjoying the tips.

- Pete

At this point Tal you have to keep going!

50 Shades of ExMo Love

I really enjoy reading these posts. They are very entertaining.

I'm enjoying the narrative, but I have to wonder if being a famous musician doesn't improve the cobra's chances.
#nosuchthingasanaccountantgroupie

So is it possible that this young lady was closer in age to one of your kids than she is to you?

Personally, I think if a 40 year old is going after someone that young...somethings up there. Might want to look into that bro.

You had previously mentioned being "green lighted" many times and doing nothing about it because you were married while you were on rock and roll tour. I, for one, am interested in your observations about what constitutes being "green lighted". Consider this hearty encouragement to proceed.

Sorry, but your "unbecomingly autobiographical" narrative sounds like an old man desperate to relive his glory days. If this is part of the rough draft for your real autobiography, you may want to consider omitting it.

Old? I thought Tal said he was 40 at this time. Not so ancient.

Glory days? Tal said he had been married young and hadn't had many gf's before that (as tends to happen in Mormonism). Glory? Maybe not so much.

I think the intent is to illustrate in an amusing way some of the difficulties in being a new exmo. It helps to point out the unique challenges that ex-Mormons go through on account of their previous Mormon beliefs. It can be quite instructive to those who know nothing about the Mormon Church as well as cathartic and enlightening both to the exmo whose experience it is and to others who are reading it.

It can be quite healing for a reader to be able to say "Hey, I know what you mean. That happened to me". Or for the writer who expressed him/herself and connected with some readers through their shared experiences.

Not that Tal will find too many "peers" who have been Mormon rock musicians. But there are many exmos out there who are fathers to large broods and, unfortunately, unwilling ex-husbands. Exmo exes are among the largest group of posters seen at RfM. Men whose world has changed simply because they had to follow their conscience and get out of the Mormon Church. For many, the winding path out is tough to traverse and it helps them to discuss their experiences and express their feelings along the way. As many here have attested, it helps many readers too.

It's not about glory. It's sharing and connecting and working things through. It's having a bit of fun through the pain of it all and wryly laughing at oneself.

I don't see a guy crowing about having one night stands with much younger women. (Did he mention anything about stands at all yet?) Rather, it's more like an adult man lost in aspects of the real world due to the restrictions and oppression of Mormonism (disapproval of young and/or multi-dating, push towards early marriage with any LDS girl, expectation of quick and many pregnancies, etc).

The being lost part is something that many ex-Mormons can easily relate to. I remember a poster here long ago who said she used to go and sit at Starbucks just to watch how nevermos connected with each other (in a general sense, not dating). That is some serious alienation from the world, caused by Mormonism, that tries to keep its people totally focused on itself and completely isolated inside the Mormon bubble.

Truman Show meets Exmo Rocker.

That's quite a story.

He's long past forty now, isn't he? Exactly how does the "Cobra Strike" targeting a string of much younger women have any redeeming value for ex-Mormon men that already are steeped in sexual objectification of women as to their specific role in life? Ex-Mormon men, and women, both, need to shed those constructs and see each other as real people that deserve respect.

ya ~ sassenach be bitter

an be telling exmo men what we need to "shed"

Tal’s stories, taken more moderately, could be good advice for the shy guys out there. If a girl is paying attention to you, or you catch her checking you out a few times, then don’t be afraid to go talk to her. Duh, she’s interested, even if it’s just to meet you and have a nice chat to size you up.

However, I can relay some stories about the negatives that can be encountered by using the extreme version of the cobra strike. Yes, being a rockstar can have a certain affect on women, one that can make other mortal men fiercely jealous too, because it’s an effect most other men don’t get to experience. No one likes to see people getting an easy ride.

In my younger, wilder rockstar days, I’ve played the cobra strike and taken a girl home after walking off the stage. Once, even though she was totally game, I had half the men in town surrounding me the next night at the gig and telling me they didn’t like punk musicians who came to their town just to screw their women. Was she game? Sure. Was it their business? No. Were they just jealous? Probably. Was I afraid? Absolutely. Did I ever show my face in that town again? No way!

LOL! (At the time it wasn’t so funny though, it cost me a club to play in.)

Another version of the same bad reaction happened more recently at a club I still play at often. I just like chatting with women more than men sometimes; they suit my temperament better than do the gruff kind of men who like to play alpha male at many rock and roll clubs. So, I’d sit with all the single women, or meet and chat up all the single women. I even collected them up and brought them over to our after hours music jams where all the musicians went after the club closed to played music all night long. It was nice to have some women there instead of singing love songs to a bunch of dudes sitting around the party house. They improved the energy balance.

However, the same thing started to happen. The people back at the club became antsy that I was always talking to women, and often leaving the club with not just one, but often several women at closing time. That seemed to ruffle feathers among the men, and soon I got a smear campaign going against me by all the men in town. I even had a facebook smear campaign started against me, which kind of sucked. I wasn’t sleeping with these gals, I was just making friends, and the girls seemed to get that. But the boys became very unhappy over my apparent ‘successes’ with women. They, like in that other town, eventually proceeded to put an end to that in a hurry. I had to stop talking with any women period for awhile in order for that to blow over. :(

So, do be cautious with the cobra. If it works too well, you could get a reputation, or even get yourself beat up by the local lynch mob. If you walk right up and kiss her, she might like it, or she might slap you and call you a dirty old man, or maybe send her boyfriend over to slug you. So do be careful. Yes, if she pays you some attention, she might be interested, so don’t be too shy to go say hi. However, do be a gentleman about it, and have good intentions. And yes, being a rockstar helps, and that seems to make other men quite upset as well, if they notice. So don’t let the cobra get you into trouble, and please don’t hurt anybody with it. :)

Like I say, Tal’s advice could be good for shy wallflowers to at least get them to step up to the plate. But with that in mind, you don’t want be a cad either; don’t get carried away and become a predator, or get the reputation of being a predator, because that sucks too.

Rock and Roll, it’s such a strange animal. Use with caution.

I like it. Put some spicy things in there, like " I pulled her close to me so she could feel my urgency " or " I was a dragon and breathed fire on to her neck" or " I kissed her neck and down to her panties and pulled them off with me teeth"

I like that

It didn't end well, but I'm sure he had a lot of fun. "Search for Robert Johnson" was one of the best nonfiction films I've seen.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Johnson

Just a few responses:

Sassenach: There *were* no "glory days" in the way you are suggesting. I got off a mission, thought I'd found "the one", got married, had eight kids, was a devoted husband and father, and then wound up divorced. As I mentioned, I'd only ever slept with one woman when I found myself single. I had never actually approached women at all. I would happily confess to desperation if I had ever felt it, but that feeling did not occur. You sound bitter, but I'm not sure why.

What I felt was: Wounded, over my break-up, but also *open* to experience in the non-Mormon world, and curiosity. Yes, I liked the idea of finding someone to enjoy life with, but I never felt desperation of any kind.

The Navidson Record: I was open to new experiences. One thing that meant in my case was being open to getting to know, and spend time with, different kinds of women. I didn't care about religion or race or age (providing they were adults, of course) or language or nationality. K was in her early twenties, but then, she obviously didn't care about age stuff (most people around where I live are quite liberal, unlike, I guess, you), and I didn't care, and we had a good time together at the pub, and later, blowing stuff up.

As I mentioned above, Jambo is hallucinating. I have not mentioned "one night stands", because there were none. I did not sleep with any of the women I have mentioned.

Smirkorama: being "greenlighted" only means that someone has made it plain they are interested - they would welcome a "come-on". Sometimes that just takes the form of a somewhat leering invitation to "party" or something.

Left Field - Playing on a stage - any stage - does increase one's chances. If you have a hit on the radio, you could stagger out onstage in a diaper and still have beauties throwing themselves at you. Even if you're in a bar band, your odds go up. BUT - K did not know I was a musician when we first met. Most of the women I went out with didn't know I was a musician at first. Being a musician, or being seen playing onstage, is not necessary for romantic success.