Friday, October 26, 2012

Why so aloof? Sometimes I'm just being me

Yesterday's post let a particular encounter hang so that I could focus on telling one story.  If you need some additional context, go read that post first.  Anyhow . . . let's pick up the hanging thread . . .

This woman was sitting at a table at the bar with about six of her friends.  A couple other chicks were popping in and out on the conversation, too.  I wasn't particularly interested in any of the chicks at the table, although I was monitoring one of their additional friends who was hitting on a guy I kinda knew.  I was waiting for him to fail out, although by the time that actually happened she had left him behind in the parking lot and I ended up giving him ride.  Stupid world.

One of the dangers of going solo out to the bar or the club is that women will notice you by yourself and decide to engage you.  This doesn't sound like a big deal, but I am a believer that women who directly approach guys are almost always trying to jump past the Two-Point Rule.  I also seem to be the object of a lot of old-fashioned dares when women go out in drunken groups.

Whatever the case, one of the women in the group comes over and opens me as I'm sitting by myself.  She's actually not that bad looking.  A little bigger in the butt and chest, but she did have an actual curvy figure -- ya know, as opposed to a "curvy means fat" figure.  She's clearly in her mid-30s.  On balance, she's the kind of chick I might screw if I'm just having a bad night and don't care much.  Most days, she won't get much play.

Still standing, she positions herself with her butt barely rubbing against the inside of my left thigh and starts talking to me.  Usual boring shit.  "Do you like this music?"

She asks me why I'm sitting by myself.  I answer that's just how I am.  I'm fairly disengaged at this point.  Not even making an effort to maintain eye contact -- BTW, this is only a good tactic if you're up against a woman who already is in the bag for you.

She goes through the rotisserie of questions.

"Where your wife?"  Nothing like an informative question and a shit test all rolled in one.  I tell her I'm not married.

"Well, where's your girlfriend?"  Not dating.

"Do you have any kids?"  Nope.  (This is the kind of question that only two 30+ people will ever exchange.)

"How old are you?"  34.

She stops and smiles a bit and laughs.  She says, "I'm 36.  I thought you were a bit older than me."  Nothing wrong with that, I said.

How women treat age difference

I want to pause here and talking a bit about how women approach the problem of the unknowable age difference when they approach a guy.  The age thing can feel a bit like an insult or shit test.  It isn't.  Stop hyperventilating.

When women guess a guy's age, they essentially frame the guess as something that puts the guy in-bounds.  Which usually means taking her own age and adding a couple years.  Two to six years above her age is a fair approximation.

I can recall a 25 year old who approach me a while back.  She tried to ferret out my age by asking if I went to school with someone she knew.  I told her I'm a bit older than that.  It didn't phase her.

Likewise, I can remember a 40 year old framing the question as "people our age".

The only big exception is if she's way younger than you.  I can remember a 20 year old who pushed her guess of my age into the 27 to 29 range.  There she's essentially trying to keep the guess at the edge of acceptable.

Bear in mind, if a woman is directly approaching you, she doesn't give a fuck what your age is, whether you're younger or older than her.

In the case of the 36 year old chick, she remain undeterred.  In fact, I think she was a bit proud of herself for going after a slightly younger guy than her.

She then drops a hint that she'd like me to join her friends.  She says something to the effect of "It's so loud over her.  That's why me and my friends sit further away from the DJ."  I shrug it off.

This broke her frame a bit.  She outright asked me, "Are you sure you don't just want me to leave you alone?"

I could have done without her.  Especially with her yelling so loud because of the music.  But, I'm not one to overtly knock a woman's ego down.  So, I responded, "I'm not telling you to leave."  Nice non-committal answer.

She stopped talking for a bit and kind of stood there dancing.  She was trying to gauge my appetite for physical contact.  I eased my leg into her a bit and let my hand brush her butt.  Figured I throw her bone.  Again, I was neither pro nor con on this woman.

I looked down her top.  At this point I could see her hand drift toward my crotch, but she just barely stopped short of actual groping.  She thought better of such an aggressive move.

She opted to turn the conversation to alcohol.  "You're drinking nothing but beer.  What?  Can you hold your liquor?!"

Ah!  The challenge the guy trick.  I may have underestimated this MILFy gal.  She knows more game than I would have guessed.

I answered, "I only drink light beer these days.  I'm trying to lose weight."

"You look fine to me!" she blurts out.  Again, I shrug it off and conversation dies a bit.  I tell her I need to piss.  She tells me she's going to go over to her friends, but she'll be back.

So, I take my piss and grab another beer and return to my seat.  She gives it a couple minutes before she drifts back over.  Her next statement's a bit gameless: "I thought you had left.  I didn't figure you were coming back."

I say something to the extent of "Why would you think that?"  She pretty much shrugs it off.

She looks over at her friends with the classic "Yeah!  I can't believe I'm doing this either!  But it's working!" face.  They don't look as convinced.  I'm guessing they read the extreme neutrality of my responses.

She says, "I don't come out here very often.  We're out celebrating my birthday."  I nod.

She says, "I'd ask you to do shots with us, but I'm guessing since you're only drinking light beer that's not going to happen."  I tell her she is correct.

When older women try to get you drinking more

In my experience, if an older woman tries to get booze into you, it's because she's basically playing Creepy Old Guy Game.  This isn't that dissimilar from when old child molesters offer young teens alcohol.  It's a sign that she's losing confidence.  With an older woman, it's also a sign that the pussy is entirely yours for the taking.

The only disappointing thing with this is they often repeat the offer.  At this point, it's a major sign of self-doubt.  It's pretty much the female equivalent of just giving up and saying, "So? Wanna fuck?"

She then proceeds to complain about how younger guys are always coming up to her but she just blows them off because they're just looking for the pussy.  (BTW, those are her words, not mine.  She did use the word "pussy".)  I pretty much ignored the remark, since what I really wanted to say was, "And you're here just trying to ride the D."

This was another sign that her frame was breaking down.  When women tout their sexuality -- particularly if they are touting how many guys they can get, it's because they're trying to qualify themselves to you.  Don't ask me why women think this would work -- women are largely qualified to guys by their appearance and to a lesser extent by their joie de vivre.  It's another blinking red light on the dashboard.

At this point, she decides to go with, "Wow, you smell good."

As an aside to the reader: yes, I do smell good.  How?  Burberry.  Seriously, as a guy, Burberry cologne is your can't miss scent.   A flawless eau de toilette.  It's masculine, but subtle.  It smells amazing while being astonishingly subtle.  I'm partial to Burberry Brit.   It mixes well with alcohol and cigarettes, so the bar smell won't fuck it up.

The summer scents are also pretty damned nice, but the Brit scent tend to be more masculine and work better in a bar setting.

I have to admit, by this point I'm losing interest.  I've gone from neutral to "puh-lease".  She's trying too hard and is clearly too invested.  I like tough women that can hold their frame.  A chick who is basically playing "Wanna fuck?" game isn't my type.

She seemed to pick up the hint.  She said, "I need to go over with my friends for a few minutes."

She and her friends converse a bit.  I stopped paying attention pretty quickly.  By the time I bothered to notice, they had all left.  So much for getting that birthday sex you had wanted.  Oh, well.  Better luck next birthday.


  1. "I do smell good. How? Burberry."

    Seconded, although I lean towards Burberry London. Definitely gives off that "distinguished, pipe smoking gentleman in a den full of books" aroma.

  2. What is this Two-Point Rule you keep talking about? I haven't seen an explanation in the blog posts yet.

    1. I'm fairly sure I addressed it somewhere on the blog, but as it now represents a rather reckless body of meandering work I don't take much offense if you can't happen to find that particular needle in this fabulous stack of needles I've left behind.

      The two-point rule is the idea that on the hypothetical 10-point scale (as in "wow, that girl's a solid 10!") that there's little room for people to fuck people who are more than 2 points more attractive than they are. A guy who's a five, in theory, has no hope of fucking an eight.