This is the result of a few experiments. First of, I started watching the show 'Californication' and some of the lines from it are fucking gold. Second, I decided to sprinkle my game with a dash of douchebaggery. I want to play along with the 'tame the badboy' fantasy – communicate that I'm just looking for sex (not specifically with the target), then qualify the girl before fucking. 'Create the experience of being special', if you will. I'm abandoning the traditional M3 model for the time being, and the next few field reports will describe the results. So far, I'm off to a pretty good start. Read on.
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Good nights have the nasty habit of coming in disguise. You work a few average sets, get some digits you're not even likely to follow up and for some reason tiredness hits you like a ton of bricks around midnight. This night was no different. I sarged a couple standard sets with my wing TonyT in our favorite bar, had a few really random conversations with friends, acquaintances and the staff, but it was all very standard. So hit by a textbook example of midnight-tiredness syndrome, TonyT and I decided to call it a night and headed out in the direction of the underground station. And then... I could sense it. As if some higher power looked down at me and in a very Heath-Ledger's-Joker manner murmured to itself 'and here... we... go'. It was a good feeling. One of my all-time favorites, coming to think of it.
[Ace] This so cannot be the end of this night. I could have fucked two girls tonight, I'm not going home with Mr Thumb and his four lovely daughters!
[TonyT] Man, my last train leaves in like 15 minutes. Shame about that threesome you messed up, but screw them, they were drunk. Let's just call it a night.
That's how most awesome nights begin. It's never how they end.
We approached Leicester Square. And then I noticed them. Everybody did. Two great looking girls, a blonde and a brunette, standing outside club Sound. Dressed up as bees of all things, wearing stilts which made them both about 8 feet tall. Each had two cheerleader pompons, which they were brandishing rather frantically. They weren't your average bricks in the wall. 'Hired Guns.' I thought to myself. 'Me likey.'
[Ace] Come on man, one last set. Just look at them. For shits and giggles... Pretty please, with sugar on top?
[TonyT] *sigh* Fine. Just for you. Go.
[Ace] Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?
[TonyT] Just go before I miss my train. I'll wing you in five.
I thrust my chest out, lift the chin and march slowly towards my two-set. I'm gonna do this BadBoy style. I switch on my dreamy eyes.
Step one – get them out of 'work mode'. I'll need a strong opener; preferably one with a swareword. I walk past them slowly, staring into the sky. I stop when I get close and very slowly turn my head towards them. They notice. I lift one eyebrow. They laugh.
[Ace – slowly] What... the fuck... were you two thinking?
[Brunette] We're here to attract attention.
[Ace] No kidding? You're doing a splendid job of it. But the pompons... they just don't work. Stretch your arms a bit further out, like...so...
I grab the brunettes arms and stretch them out. The Blonde giggles. I give myself a mental pat on the back for starting with strong kino – my face was pretty close to her chest.
[Brunette] It's so cold tonight! I have to keep my arms close to my body...
[Ace] You poor babies in your skimpy little outfits... Haha, what am I saying, sucks to be you!
They both snigger. 'This is my music. This is my art'. The brunette has a sweet laugh. More of a playful giggle than a laugh, really. I want to hear more of it.
Step two – 'keep the number of things other than sex they associate you with to a minimum' – words of AmanoJack's wisdom. I still don't have a formula for this, but the Jokeresque higher power decides to throw me a situational bone.
[Brunette] You have really nice eyes.
Cha-ching. Welcome to HookPointVille. The first rose landed gently at the artist's feet.
[Ace] Don't mention my eyes. I mean, I know they could teach the stars to shine, but the sneaky fuckers cock-blocked me tonight.
Open-ended statements kick ass. Where would I have been without you, master Falcon?
[Brunette] They what?
[Ace] OK, long story short... So I'm making out with this girl and things start to heat up. And she was hot enough, so I told her she'd end up in my bed tonight. She goes 'I can't, I'm here with my lover'. Considering she was just making out with me, that's pretty weird. But hey, no worries. 'Like that can possibly stop you' I say. And the girl gives me this totally seductive look and goes 'would you like to meet her?' I put two and two together and I'm thinking 'sweet, a threesome'. So we walk over to meet the other bicurious female and she turns out to be this totally hot blonde in jeans and a tanktop. So I smile, stroll over to her with the other girl on my arm and the blonde shakes her head before I even say a goddamn word. 'I dont like his eyes' she says. I mean, what the fuck, right? Judging me by my looks... I'm not just some piece of meat, I am a beautiful person on the inside...
The brunette giggles again. That sound gets sweeter every time I hear it.
[Ace] Oh, great, you agree with her? I'm just a piece of meat, am I? Women are all the same, sexual predators the lot of them...
[Brunette] I never said you were a piece of...
[Ace – making a hurt face] You didn't have to! Guy's got feelings...
At this point the blonde is laughing so hard she almost falls off her stilts. The sarge was going pretty well so far.
And then it began. I should have anticipated it. I was a lone guy with a two-set of hot, outrageously peacocked girls in the middle of Leicester square, the place with the highest concentration of aspiring pickup artists in the world. Until this point, I never noticed how many PUAs were hanging out in front of Sound. To my left, a group of peacocked guys were obviously waiting their turn. Someone would eventually try to jack my set.
Two girls walked past and asked for directions to the bar I had left minutes ago. I showed them which way to go and asked them to say hi to the bouncer for me. When I turned around to talk to my set, a guy in a stylish coat and a white cowboy hat was already sarging them. CowboyGuy, if you're reading this, I'm sorry about what happened. But I was there first. Also, ease up on the negs, partn'r
[CowboyGuy– to the blonde] Wow, you poop words, it's ridiculous... by the way, is your hair real?
[Ace] Hey, buddy... shame on you man, that's no way to treat a lady! Look at her, she's perfect, she's drop-dead, she's firecrackers on the fourth! You'll never do better, but she can, you know what I'm saying?
CowboyGuy mumbled a quiet 'anyhow, I gotta get back to my friends, but have a good one' and rolled off, passing TonyT on his way out.
[TonyT] So that's where you disappeared... I lose sight of you for one second, and...
[Ace] You know me man, I'm like a kid. I see something shiny and eight feet tall and I just can't control myself. Let alone if there's two of them. Anyhow, I'd be kicking myself if I didn't immortalize your ridiculous outfits on a photograph. Here, catch!
I throw my phone to the blonde and hug the brunette.
[Ace] ]No, no the other way around! Which button? Right there on the top right, where it always fucking is!
The Brunette is a lot taller than me and my head is pressing against her breast. I choose to verbalize this observation.
[Ace] Hey, you're totally pressing your chest against my head!
[Brunette] You mean the other way around?
Without thinking, I turn around and press my tongue agains her breast. Both the blonde and TonyT crack up.
[Ace] Come on, I can't keep licking it forever.
The brunette slowly looks down. I look up. Our eyes meet, mine giving the look of a boy who knows he's done something wrong, hers showing a mixture of amusement and pretended disapproval. I gently wiggle my tongue. She giggles again as the camera flashes.
[TonyT] Listen man, I gotta head back to catch my train. You have these girls' numbers, right?
[Ace] What for? These girls are nothing but trouble, our lives are in jeopardy enough as it is...
[Brunette] What makes you think we would've given you our numbers anyway?
I look into her dominant eye. She has a very sexy smile. I raise an eyebrow and make the face of a parent mildly amused by their child's misbehavior. She giggles again.
[Ace] See, I didn't even say anything funny and you're laughing already. That means I'm totally in. Remember this, it's a useful trick. See, that wasn't funny either and you're practically shooting milk out of your nose... Oh, I am soooo in. But duty beckons – au revoir, mes enfants!
I pretend to leave with TonyT, waving to the bees. But I'm nowhere near done. I need another fix of the brunette's playful giggle. I shake hands with my wing and turn around. Ace has the two set to himself – things just got interesting.
[Ace] Whaddup. I had to come back.
[Brunette] Oh? Why is that?
[Ace] Common courtesy, really... my dad always taught me you can't just lick a girl's boobie and not want to find out about her hopes and dreams, it's unseemly... also, your friend still has my phone. Thank you, love.
Before I could say anything else, a good looking latino guy in a black leather jacket rolled up on us. This was becoming a nuisance. Where was my big, scary wing when I needed him?
[AFC – to the brunette] Hey baby, how about a kiss?
[Brunette] No.
[AFC – to the blonde] How about you?
[Blonde] Erm, haha. No.
The guy shrugged and started to walk away. But I was not done messing with people tonight.
[Ace] Hey buddy! Come back here, I'll teach ya the most valuable lesson of life. I'm totally serious, listen up.
He's at least a foot taller than me. I grab his shoulder. It feels like a rock.
[Ace] You see, when a woman says 'no', all she means is 'not yet'. You can't just give up at the first sign of resistance, you'll never find a girlfriend that way. Persistence is key, am I right, girls?
The BeeGirls laugh, the guy mumbles something and rolls off. I didn't wanna waste time befriending him or merging him into my set. It also didn't seem like something the womanizer I made myself look like would do.
[Ace] Man, this guy will never get anywhere. This piece of advice has been passed on in my family from father to son for generations... my dad's persistence is pretty much the only reason I'm here today. What, quit laughing, the men in my family are not that great looking, we gotta manage somehow...
They both gave me the doggy dinner bowl look. I doubt they'd ever seen a similar show. Most of the lines I used were scripted and they seemed to work. I needed to slow down and let their buying temperature fall a little. According to TD, too much BT pumping can 'fry the circuits', whatever that means. So we fluff talked, I found out the Brunette worked in sales and the Blonde was an amateur writer. I told them I was a writer myself. I remembered to periodically bust on their outfits, too.
[Ace] Now, in all seriousness, let's assume I'm throwing a hypothetical party and I want to... hey, ADD, the party's over here, I'm asking a question! Good girl. If I wanted to hire you two to stand outside and point people in the right direction, how would I go about it?
[Blonde] You'll just have to take our numbers and contact us directly.
[Ace] Aww, man, you were planning on sneaking your numbers into my phone all the way, huh? Fine, put her number in. Pretty please. I can't be asked to get my gloves off.
I throw my phone to the Blonde. She types in the Brunette's number and drop-calls her. I take out the second cigarette of the sarge.
[Brunette] Wow, you smoke way too much.
My shit-test alert goes off. Agree and exaggerate, Ace, agree and exaggerate.
[Ace] You know, I totally do. It's one of my very many vices... Just imagine my lungs right now... probably blacker than the night itself. I don't wanna pollute the air around you two fine puritan specimens, I had better take a step back.
I take a few steps back. As we talk, I notice they gradually get closer and closer. We fluff talk some more, then I remember another sharp tip from AmanoJack – 'the less a woman knows about you, the more she has to imagine and make up by herself. Let her create this fantasy. The more she does that, the more invested she becomes in the interaction and the less likely she is to flake'. I'm very loosely paraphrasing here, but as far as being a badboy goes, it makes logical sense that letting them enjoy the fantasy is very key.
[Ace] Alright, you two little parasites have kept me in the cold long enough, I hope you're proud of yourselves. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be off to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate in my awesome warm bed... unless I stumble upon a lonely female soul in desperate need of company. Don't give me that look. Be well.
[Brunette] Hmmm... sounds like fun, mind if we tag along?
[Ace] Woman, please... whatever happened to the glorious american tradition of a movie and a dinner first? Stay in school. G's up, or however the urban youth bid farewell these days.
As far as the first sarge was concerned, I thought I did well. There was a huge emotional charge in there – I think the strongest responses came from making it sexual straight off the bat and handling the interrupts. I created the exact effect I wanted: in her mind, I was the archetypical badboy; apart from that, she knew literally nothing about me. I was gonna find out if Vin was right about her imagination doing the rest of the work for me. No image I conveyed could ever compete with what her fantasy would create; I merely wanted to ensure the perfect fantasy was built around me.
I consciously skipped qualification for the sake of my experiment. My logic suggested that if I wanted to make things move any further, I shouldn't wait too long. Hammer the iron when it is glowing hot, if you pardon the terrible choice of words.
I knew it had worked when I woke up the next morning to see that she'd sent me a text at 2:30am.
'Hey, it's [HB9] the brunette on stilts. So did you manage to get anyone to come back and party with you tonight? x x'
Perhaps subtlety was not her strongest point, but after that text I knew I dug this girl's style.
The day-2 dynamic was going to be an uphill struggle, first and foremost because I did not time-bridge (i.e set up a date at the meet), but also because the girl turned out to be a vaudeville act, originally from Portsmouth (which I'm told is in southern England
), constantly travelling around the United Kingdom. A fellow restless soul. With my itinerary more confusing than Nietzsche's writing and hers perhaps even more chaotic, it came as no surprise that the close would turn out to be a logistical miracle. I made a point of always calling instead of texting, the importance of which has been kindly pointed out to me by my female mentors and I relayed all of my 'Douchebag Game' stories to my target. She absolutely loved them. I had a feeling she would. She also giggled a lot. I enjoyed her giggle. It had a very subtly erotic tone to it – you know, one of these things that are impossible to explain in writing alone.
I surprised myself the most when I broke most of my 'rendezvous rules'. I arranged to meet her under the statue of Freddie Mercury before taking her to a private members' club for a drink, traditionally ordering her to bring a swimsuit and a straw hat (they usually respond with 'why the hell?', to which I find the best answer to be 'I have a hunch you'll look very sexy in a swimsuit. And the strawhat is a gift for me, I collect that type of junk'). But I digress.
A few hours before the meet my giggling vaudevillian called me to announce her car had broken down and that she would not be able to meet me in London, suggesting a small village between that fair city of mine and Portsmouth. Naturally I was not a big fan of the idea – I prefer laying girls in the privacy of my own home, occasionally in the open air (but not in December, for crying out loud!), or better yet, the privacy of their home, which saves me the burden of cleaning up (I'm a messy lover). A city that was half an hour from both our dwellings was, well, by definition, a half hour away from the only two lay locations I'd considered. So with my heart racing, I calmly explained to her why I thought meeting in London was a better idea.
[Ace] Seriously, I know it's gonna be late, but you can sleep at mine. Don't get any ideas though, I don't put out on a first date. But I hear my floor is surprisingly soft, you might wanna give that a try.
[Brunette] How mighty kind of you. I'm seriously tempted... Explain this to me though, I've seen you for maybe twenty minutes in my life, why do I really want to come around and spend the night in your... erm, on your allegedly soft floor?
[Ace] Oh, don't worry, that feeling really can't be helped. I am awesome, after all.
[Brunette] I seriously want to, but I won't be able to make it to work the next morning... Just come meet me in Guildford?
And then I said something I didn't expect myself to say.
[Ace] Alright, I'm gonna go take a shower. No, please, stop picturing me naked for a sec and just listen. Check my trains and text me when the next one is. I can be at the station in twenty minutes.
[Brunette] You serious? You're gonna come down to a random town to see a girl you barely know?
[Ace] I told you, I live my life like a book. Who knows, maybe you'll turn into a chapter one day. I'll find out tonight. If there's one thing I hate, it's asking myself 'what if'.
[Brunette] Alright, just don't screw me over [she obviously got the point of my douchebag stories] because I'm leaving the house to get the train right now.
Fuck. I was going to meet a stranger in some town I've never been to, the day before my trip to France. I reminisced about the Big Mess Story in the shower. From past experience, I'd probably end up falling asleep on the coffee table with my friends frantically ringing the doorbell, wanting to drag me onto the coach. But fuck it. Life is meant to be lived like a good novel.
My train was taking a lot longer than expected. In spite of what her free spirited professions may have suggested, she was nothing like what I imagined cage dancers, firebreathers and grinders to be. Just before I arrived, half an hour late, she sent me a text 'Now I feel silly. Are you really coming x x'.
She was a lot older than I had originally thought. After she told me she was thirty two (!), I nearly choked on cigarette smoke.
[Ace] Haha, my guess had the two digits of your age switched around... How old do you think I am?
[Brunette] There's no way you're younger than twenty seven. Seriously, how old?
[Ace] Haha... Would you believe me if I told you I was twenty one?
[Brunette] No.
[Ace] OK, I'm twenty one.
[Brunette] Fine, I don't need to know. I know nothing apart from your name, the fact that you're American and that you're a writer.
[Ace] I'm originally Polish.
[Brunette] Great... so we know nothing about each other!
[Ace] Well, fuck me, who says romance is dead?
She giggled again as we approached a random bar. Exactly where I wanted her to be – knowing very little about me, filling all the blanks with her imagination. This game was definitely not played in comfort.
[Bouncer] The lady can come in, but you buddy... sorry, that beard ain't foolin' anybody.
The brunette gave me a look of utter astonishment.
[Ace] What? I told you, I stole my grandma's anti-wrinkle cream. She shrivelled up like a dried tomato afterwards, but I'm as smooth as a baby's bottom. Anyhow, I should have a piece of plastic in here somewhere that says I'm allowed to drive a car...
I showed the ID to the bouncer. His eyes widened – he obviously did not have me pegged as a twenty one year old. He mumbled a quiet 'I am so sorry, sir', which definitely helped the illusion of me being older than I actually am. Another little victory of the day.
We got a couple drinks and I made sure to lead her by the hand to a random table. 'Lead or Leave', as the Juggler boys would say. A few hours later I went to the bathroom to dispose of my precious bodily fluids and came back to find her talking very quickly on the phone.
[Brunette] Well, guess what... Both our trains home just left. We are stranded in here. I'm trying to book us a hotel.
Bingo, I said to myself as the final puzzle fell in place. She'll even be able to say to herself that 'it just happened'. She will have fucked a pretty much complete stranger with no Buyer's Remorse whatsoever. Rationalize it as 'I don't usually do this, but those were extraordinary circumstances'. Had this happened due to my skill rather than dumb luck, I'd consider the experience I've created for her the Sistine Chapel of my inner pickup artist.
I'll omit the details of the conversation that ensued for the sake of brevity; I'll even skip what happened at the hotel. At this point though, the reader should have a good idea of how the night would unfold, so writing any more of this story would be, if anything, an exercise in futile braggery. So I will just say that she truly rocked my world and let your imagination fill in the blanks.
Read Nancy Friday's 'My secret garden'. Women have far more outrageous fantasies than most men would expect – all we gotta do is let those fantasies come true.
And one off her facebook account:
CHAT
well done