| Last Thursday I took the train to the city center, I had to meet a few friends of mine in a local pub. Obviously, when tried to contact them to give me directions to that pub, they were already roaring drunk, way beyond the line of physical and mental collapse.
I had to find a guide.
And I found H.
She’s the kind of girl that doesn’t pass unnoticed. Not for the body (nice, but nothing special, let’s say a HB7), but for the style. God, she was almost peacocking: punk badass leather boots, skinny black jeans, night blue shirt under a leather jacket, long light-blue hair, ice-blue eyes, double piercing on the lower lip. The kind of girl I like: unusual, and probably half crazy. The right person to ask for directions.
I haven’t use a proper, canned opener. I just played the tourist, asking for directions and opinions regarding the nearby pubs and clubs. That bought me a few seconds, then while she was trying to explain it in English, I used a couple of words in Polish, then started stacking the openers: I know a few words in Polish, do you know any in my language? / If you teach me one word in your language, I teach you one in mine. She told that would be more simple for her to accompany me there, and we continued our translation games. When se pulled out of her jacked a bottle of beer mixed with tequila, and then opened it with her teeth, I knew I started to like her more. Then the friend came.
A tall blonde guy almost bumped into us, and started saying a few words to H. Funny thing, before he could finish the sentence, she turned to me and said that he was ***, a friend of hers. I couldn’t really imagine why specify it so soon, maybe to underline her availability to mating, maybe…was it an IOI? When I’m not sure about an IOI, I generally assume it is. The friend soon vanishes away, taking with him the beer. The old city center and the pub were close by, so I had to haste my game: thrown an improvised neg (too bad you’re not my type, I really like punk girls), avoid jumping through hoops (guess game answer to the usual how old are you? question), and begun building comfort. We reached the pub, so I had to adjust a bit to the new, chaotic situation.
From the outside you could already see the first helpless and irresponsible and depraved drunkards lost in the depths of vodka. Inside the pjalnia (that's how they call here those kind of pubs) the scene was even worse, resembling a mid-70's zombie movie: dozens of tightly-packed people, staring at each other with lobotomy eyes, standing without balance or connection between the body and the brain. I told her to order a few shots while I greeted a group of friends of mine, she nodded confuses, but ordered nevertheless the drinks while I tried to move through the crowd. The idea was to talk a bit with my fiends (3 set, 2F &1M) and set up a jealously plot, but I had to cut it short: too much time need to reach them on one hand, and I didn’t want to lose H. among the horde of drunkards. I went back to her and happily noticed that she has already paid for the shots (I mentally noted "IOI #2), that’s why offered to pay for the second round. It was the right move? I saw it as an occasion to drink more, and buy some time to continue my game.
We reached another group of friends, which I introduced to her. They too were quite drunk, but still I took the chance to tell a couple of funny stories about my (brief) experience with drunkards as a bouncer in Italy (and inserting in them a few DHV spikes). One of my friends offered us a round of beers, and we continued the chat for a while, changing the topic to photography and filmaking: she asked me how I could have so many different interests ("IOI #3). At the first occasion (other round of beers), I moved her a few feet away to a more comfortable location, a booth in the corner miraculously empty – we were in a middle of a conversation about music tastes we had in common, and I pretended not to hear her clearly with all that noise around.
While speaking about upcoming concerts, I slowly lowered my voice, while using a Triangular Gazing - she slowly came close to me. We started kissing almost immediately.
With the benefit of hindsight I would have preferred 30 seconds of a slow, comfort-building kissing, and only then French-kissing. Instead, we started making out in the pub, without caring if someone was watching.
Maybe that’s why she went home when a friend of hers called her a few minutes later, or maybe for some other reason. She gave me her Instagram account, saying that we should meet again next week. She left the pjalnia, quickly smiling at me before vanishing in the crowd. Should I have followed her? Should I have said, or done, something different?
I sat there for a long time, and thought about a lot of things, not even caring about the brawl started at the entrance of the pub and later continued on the cobblestone alley outside. By the time I got to the street, I could see the first rays of the sun, a distant pink glow in the sky. _________________ Quote: K527 you are becoming a degenerate savage! 
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CHAT
