These are two separate incidents that happened in two totally different environments. Both are from this April, which is only worth pointing out because I am a firm believer that human mating behavior goes a little wonky in the early spring.
Incident the First
In advance, this section includes one of my boo-hoo-for-me cries about how tough I grew up. If you don't like those, you're going to want to skip on down to the next bolded title.
I was out drinking with my ages old friend Art, who you may recall from one of my previous posts. I was not feeling it very much that evening, so I was mostly drinking and yukking it up with people I knew. (I realize the PUA types will call this "Social Circle Game", but put bluntly I don't do social circle game at all ever.) I had spotted this one blonde chick who was giving me the distant look that implies "come try me". I'm well aware of what eye contact means when you're at the bar. Again, I wasn't feeling it, so I didn't follow up.
Later I needed to take a piss, so I went to the bathroom. Along the way to the bathroom I blew past the chick twice. I paid here no heed. In fact, I didn't pay her any more attention than was required to not run into her.
Apparently she took extreme offense to this. Once I got situated back with friends and talking, she comes walking down the bar and rams as hard as she can into my chest! Then she says, "Oh, I didn't see you there." I went completely silent. Later the friend I was talking to at the moment said I gave her the "If you weren't a girl you'd be dead right now" look.
One thing you have to appreciate about me, and particularly about the fact that I grew up in a fairly violent environment, is that my silence is one of the scariest things you can encounter. If I don't engage you, then I don't want to be engaged. If I stop speaking altogether, I am at the point where I am trying to not escalate things any further because the next escalation is the one where I may end you. My complete silence is the very last thing that you still have to guarantee you get out alive.
Whatever the case, she looked at her friend, they both laughed. And I remained silent. And then they shut up and moved along.
A couple things I will say on this one . . .
First off, I apologize to every guy who would cut off his right hand for the opportunity to have a chick interested enough in him that she'd pull such a stunt.
Second, I apologize to every pick-up artist who felt a small disturbance in The Force when this incident happened. Yes, I realize the amount of decent ass I've turned down in my lifetime is terrifying to guys who have rehearsed their entire lives to nail down routines that will get them laid.
Third, a word to the ladies: don't pull this shit! The worst part about this chick is that in this crowd and in this bar, we were up to our necks in the poor, violent element I grew up around. This was not even fucking remotely the environment to be trying to pull a stunt like that. This was the kind of environment wear fights end with people losing an eye. Or worse (maybe someday I'll post the story that ends with the loser of one such fight being tossed in a ditch and torched -- don't worry, it's not my handiwork, it was just my next door neighbor).
Fourth, this whole story does remind me of how awful my continuing attachment to the element I grew up around cripples my game. I cannot express enough how badly growing up around the constant low hum of violence alters the way you run game. You don't play alpha male around people who armed and prepared to kill. Well, ya can, but I strongly advise you rethink what 2 a.m. is going to look like for you.
Sometimes when I read the Game and PUA blogs and read all these former dweebs casting about for definitions of alpha-ness, I can't help but shake my head at them. Seriously . . . nothing about staring down a murderer makes you feel alpha. It just makes you think about how you're going to kill him if he shows up again tomorrow. It's easy for skinny white dweebs who grew up in middle class America to say you should cast caution to the wind. Fuck with some of the people I grew up with sometime and we'll see where your sense of adventure takes you tomorrow. (Hint: it's probably an emergency room.)
Anyhoo . . . enough of all that awfulness.
Incident the Second
This one occurs in an almost diametrically opposite environment. I decided to hit up a country bar in a college town because it was the only place happenin' on Wednesday night. If you can't guess from my previous post, I just haven't been feeling it lately. Not a dark place. But, not a good place to go out and game girls, either.
But, that doesn't stop me from sitting back sometimes and just enjoying the scenery.
I've always had a strange sort of play with women when I go toward the country demographic. I have a red flannel shirt that I basically cannot fail to get laid in. I once got laid after doing a model photo shoot for a black urban clothing line when I wore that flannel -- you seriously have some good ol boy game when you get a black model for an urban clothing line hitting on you by saying she wants to do a "lumberjack calender" with you. I'm also pretty certain I could have taken home a few of the fellas that were doing the ladies' hair that day!! ;-)
OK. So . . . Those are my good ol boy game bona fides. I got a lot of it. Rarely use it, but in truth I may be the world's shittiest sexual underachiever, at least within the demographic of men who can get laid on any given night.
Anyhow . . . back to Wednesday night.
I'm chillin' and not chasin'. Lots and lots of attention. No red flannel game, BTW. I was actually doing Italian cotton together with jeans and desert boots. Country enough, but I could easily roll into a hip hop club and be admitted, too.
Toward 1 a.m., I opted to sit in this very long bench area they have that's kind of nestled back in behind the dance area. I'm just sitting and this one chick sits down next to me, but she immediately starts chatting up this other guy. Plus, she seemed sauced as hell and I don't game the extremely drunk chicks (Italian cotton doesn't come cheap or clean easily!).
Her friend decides to muscle in between the drunk chick and me. I'm not wild about it, but I let it happen. I had seen this chick dancing earlier, but she didn't seem interested, so I paid her zero mind. I figured she was just being drunk and dumb and wanted to sit with her friend.
After a minute I did my one every-now-and-then horizontal scan of my environment. Good game habit, BTW. Pause every now and then and just scan. Take a fucking bearing every now and then. Plus it lets your present company know they're not the only thing on your mind at any given moment.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the friend of the drunk chick kind of giving me the sideways glance that is the great female "OK, now . . ." hint. Instead of responding, I went back to scanning. Her response was a definite first for me: she took both of her hands and waved them directly in front of my face.
See what I mean when I said I think I may have broken the women folk?
After my complete lack of response, she decided to scoot down the bench past both her friend and the guy guy her drunk friend was hitting on. She eventually wrangled one of the guy's buddies and spent the rest of the night chatting him up. (On the bright side, I managed to avoid chatting.)
And, yes, I once again apologize to all them men in the world who wished women would try stunts like these on them. Sorry. I'm broken. I concur that it's a waste for this gift to belong to me.
Well, that's enough for this post. Tune in next week. At the rate things are going, I assume some chick will finally jump the shark and point a gun in my face and demand I go home with her. Should eb fun to see how she responds when I ignore her and walk away!