Blah blah, last post was over six months. Sorry.
In my ongoing quest to be able to work out the fairer sex and actually find myself engaging with them I have been trying far more desperate ways to satisfy the need for a relationship. I mean I will admit that the Metro paper's Rush Hour Crush was a low point but I would have thought the majority of people would describe me as "The tall, muscular, dirty blonde haired man with exotic features on the train from Plymouth."
Either way my searches were in the back of my mind when I arrived at Speedflatmating in order to find someone to move in. I just wanted to get in, get out and possibly have a couple of drinks in between. I did my usual spiel about where it was, how much, and how I'm actually a lot tidier than I look and after several drinks decided to leave. I was checking my phone outside when someone from inside who I had talked to asked me for a lighter. Let's call him Jeremy. Because his real name is too hard for me to spell without looking it up.
I obliged Jeremy's wish and as anyone who was slightly tipsy on a Tuesday night would, asked if he wanted to talk to the girls who had also just left the building. Obviously they heard me loudly ask the question but kindly decided not to slap me straight away when I walked over.
Obviously it went horribly. They were all talking amongst themselves, and I stood at the edge of the group for about five minutes standing guard in a fashion not too dissimilar to a meerkat before turning around and walking with "Jeremy" back to the tube station. It was here that Jeremy suggested I read a book he had studied called "The Game" which was about the art of pickup. He explained the basic concept and left me to walk home.
A couple of months later I had read everything I could find on this subject. It was fascinating. The idea of manipulating someone's mind in such a way but in the back of my head there was the part that suggested it was a horrible idea. Some of the basics include the push, pull technique. This is where you show interest before suddenly and randomly leaving them. Apparently this "shakes reality" for them leaving them confused and disorientated. With the same amount of social tact of shaking a baby I imagine.
(Side note: Don't shake your baby. Wave a spoon around their head in a circular motion like normal people.)
Other's include negging which is a similar principle but with compliments instead. "That dress looks great on you, shame it didn't come in a more fitting size" (I realise this makes no sense but either way). Now I have wanted to go to this 40's themed night for a few months now but have had no-one to go with. So I did my usual Saturday night routine of buying eight beers and watching something equally bad on Netflix.
Now I know thought processes don't usually make much sense if you have been drinking but this night was especially bad. I had almost finished my beers when I decided that tonight was the night I try "Gaming" some poor woman. So I looked the route up on Google Maps, put on my best 40's style outfit, then took it off because I looked ridiculous, and replaced it with a shirt my mother bought me for Christmas.
I walked out of the estate with long confident strides as I saw myself lay out a new life with my newfound confidence. I was going to game a girl, take her home, make passionate love for two to three minutes, including foreplay, re-game her every morning to fill her confidence in me, (not unlike Adam Sandler in 50 First Dates) and before she knew it we would have two kids and too many wedding gifts that would need returning to even think about calling off the marriage. You know...like in the movies and stuff.
Anyway my confidence was short lived as I had to wait twenty minutes for the bus and by the time it arrived I was sober. Bearing in mind it is midnight and I am making the half hour journey to a club night that closes at 2am. I guess my logic on the matter was that the more late to the party I was the more fashionable I would appear.
So when I find the bus terminating somewhere other than I need to be and I realise I went in the wrong direction, again another smash to the confidence bone. So as I wait another ten minutes for another bus in the cold, I ponder what brought me to this point in my life. I suppose one of my biggest mistakes was breaking up with the only serious girlfriend I had under the guise of needing to concentrate on my French aural exam. In my defence I only switched to foundation level at the last minute...
It's sad to peak at fifteen.
But tonight this was no matter for I had my "Game Face" on!
After about an hour I arrived at the destination and immediately walked into a private party. I was not told to leave but did so out of kindness to the kid that was trying to sleep at his own bat mitzvah.
Now two essential points for Gaming, I should always stand up straight, posture is very important to women as it shows I carry myself well and care about how I look. So as I walk into the correct party looking like I'm smuggling scaffolding down my shirt I see people dancing and having a good time. Which is great! But in the five metres I walk to the bar, it all stops. Immediately. Not so great.
Second essential point. I should always smile, and have a smirk that makes people think that you know some gossip they would love to hear. It's juicy as hell too. So I throw my best Clooney face on and stand at the bar. For an hour. I drank two beers and left. I honestly could not think of a worse was to spend my Saturday. I decided that as no women were there at that point I should leave. I have no idea what the bar staff thought of me but they were perfectly pleasant about it considering. I mean who in their right mind come in to a bar an hour before closing, stands with his drink for an hour grinning like the Cheshire cat on acid, and tries to make their back so straight they're practically looking at the ceiling?
Anyway I've decided that this is the beginning and the end of my Gaming career. I will stick to my usual routine of over thinking and attempts at witty banter that come off as creepy.
Oh and the worse part was that instead of just being that guy at the bar alone, every time a woman walked past I would push the grinning to the next level so much so that I was laughing at them. and instead of it coming off as charming and mysterious, it came off as rude and insulting. As laughing at strangers usually does.
Ah well. Plenty Of Fish...The tide is coming in.
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