Her Mind was a Death Maze.

It was hot, and I had to take off my shirt.

Apparently I botched my wits roll.
It wasn't charisma, because that counts for the intangible that mostly comes into play in person.
Via internet, it's all about wits. I will keep that piece of nerd knowledge in mind.

After spending the morning in idle, meaningless chatter with Aowynn, I was getting the strong impression that she had no interest in me. A position that hardly seemed fair since she didn't know me. She was slow to speak, and always answered questions with the precision of an algebraic physics equation.
Just FYI, that's not very much precision at all.

The one question I wanted to ask was "Do I have a chance here?"

I didn't ask that. I asked what I thought was a simple question, that would lead into what was possibly an awkward question.
I asked "What are your short term goals? What are you looking for in a partner." A Question I have personally been asked, via internet. This was my undoing. It actually launched her into a tirade. Perhaps it should have been obvious? If she was previously uncomfortable telling me what her job is, why would she tell me something personal about herself? She lectured me about how to talk to women, and then told me that she wasn't interested in me "because of the questions."

It all happened so fast, I didn't really have time to do anything but listen to her.
"Is that a question you would ask a girl you just met in a bar?" she asked.
I had no response at the time, but yes it is. I got her contact info from a dating page, and she sent me her Live Journal, so I know she's dating. Yes, It is something I would ask. I have many close friends, and more than enough acquaintances. I don't really want any more shallow friends. But I came across too strong. I think what she wanted was a considerable amount of idle chatter. But I had no clue what the subject had to be. There was some secret passcode of interest.

I was in a death maze. There was infinite possiblity, and a very finite set of simple questions that would get her talking to me. I asked about her job. "I'm a personal assistant." Dead end.
I proceeded playfully and cleaverly, pawing for additional information. My goal was to get to know her. What would this girl Choose to do with her life?
"Do you work for an assasin? Polishing weapons and stiletto heels?" I asked.
She chuckled, and said "something like that." I hadn't known at the time, but it was Strike 1.
There were many things I could ask about, but I had a funny feeling. I was frustrated by her vague answers, but even that contained it's own information. Don't pry too deep. I knew better than to ask about why she dropped out of college. Or why she began to lose faith in catholicism. These are interesting aspects of her personality and past that she has flashed onto the internet. And she doesn't want to talk about it. I'm in a death maze. The lights have gone. And there's a leopard.
By the way, asking what she thinks an appropriate start of a conversation is wasn't the right door.
Strike 2. So I asked her to ask me something about myself. She can ask me something, and we can go from there. Strike 3.
She's not interested in getting to know me. Beyond anything but friends. "It was the Questions," she said.

We learn from our mistakes, But I don't know what to learn from today. It was such a small instance. It seemed unprecedented and felt unreasonable. She was quick to "dole out the harshness," as they say. But I can come across a little strong. That's what I need to keep in mind. I can be intimidating.
I guess I'm trying to convince myself that I didn't make a mistake, and that my situation is better now that it was an hour ago. That I didn't lose an opportunity, so much as scratch off another person who isn't right for me.
That is what I do with every closed message, with every day that goes past.
Do what comes naturally, present myself honestly, and my interpersonal affairs will work out for the best.
But today I don't think that's the case. I'm think that if we met, and she didn't loathe me for one of the many reasons women do (see previous posts), then maybe she could have opened up to me. Maybe we could have talked, and maybe something could have come of it.
I'm so stranger to failure, but this feels premature.