(NOTE: THIS MAY BE LONG, BUT IT IS WORTH THE READ! LEARN FROM THE NATURALS. . .)
Week 1:
a-great-saturday-night-left-unfinished--vt16127.html
Week 2:
one-itis-jay-was-weekend-field-report-v ... 16560.html
Valentines Day holds a special place in most peoples' hearts- just not mine. The notion of celebrating a "holiday" that makes singles feel inferior to those in a relationship is something that I have never been able to fathom. And I am justified in making this declaration because I have a strong relationship background; I have celebrated more than 3 Valentines days with 3 separate girlfriends. But still, the day has never set well in my stomach.
Nonetheless, the boys convince me to go out, claiming tonight will be "different". . .
Dual-Targets: Delivery is key (Week 3)
Walking into the bar is atrocious. With stuck-up people all around me, it is extremely hard to acclimate. But it is Valentines Day and there are no excuses. Excuses are for the less advanced- Average Frustrated Chumps- as they like to call 'em. But I am not an AFC; I needed to make some moves.
I approach a woman in passing (Target 1), asking her if she has been upstairs on the dance-floor yet (apparently it is the place to be). "No, not yet," she responds.
"Well why don't you do me a favor. Check it out for me and let me know how it is."
"Why don't you just check it out yourself?"
"Why check it out when you can help me out?" I never provide a direct response to a woman's question. What one says is unimportant, but what is important is how one says it.
She rolls her eyes. "Maybe I'll just see you upstairs."
For me, it was too soon for upstairs. I decided to open more sets instead.
The two women seated on the patio table throw a glance in my direction; I was sure it meant so much more. I approach with a canned opener, but my wing takes control of the frame.
"Hey, let me get your take on this. Is it awkward that my friend (not me) keeps texting his ex-girlfriend on Valentines Day?"
She nods her head and responds "Of course it is!"
"But what if they are 'just friends'?" He inquires.
"Personally, I would stay away from it."
"Shit, well let me just delete this text real quick." His charming antics make her laugh. Its not what he says, but how he says it.
I quickly interject into the conversation. "Why don't we make our way to the dance floor?" They comply with the request and we walk arm-in-arm to the infamous 'upstairs'.
I continue to flirt with Target 2. I take her by the hand and spin her around. Then I give her a free salsa lesson. Given the music, and the fiery look in her eye, the moment was called for.
"So what do you do?" She asks.
"Me? I'm a professional stripper. You?"
"No, seriously!" She looks at me with a playful smile, already drawn past the hook point.
"For real! I strip at a local club down the street. I even got my own banner outside."
She smiled and the kino escalation began. Then I realized,
Its not what you say, but how you say it. The notion finally sinks in.
She laughs and eventually gives up her interrogation. The four of us find a corner booth near by. But there is trouble in paradise: Target 1 has been spotted and she is heading in my direction.
(Side note: I will be honest with you. When I was dancing with Target 2, I was still thinking about Target 1. I hope this provides reasonable justification for my future actions.)
A slight hint of jealousy lingers in the air: Target 1 wants in on the action. Rather than introducing everyone, I gracefully excuse myself from the conversation. I know in the back of my mind that my wing is going to kill me! I just left him with an extra obstacle. I whisper to my wing before I let them out of my sight, "Make sure you number close my target". God, I am such a dick.
From then on, it is Canned Central. I start to build comfort by giving her the 5 questions test. Then I give her and her friend the best friends test. Ironically, they fail. Nonetheless, her friend engages herself in a conversation with my other wing, so it is easy to isolate Target 1. We walk back downstairs and find a cozy spot for two.
She loves these games, so I make a small wager with her. "If I beat you on this next game, then you have to buy me a drink. But if you beat me, then I will give you something special."
We play another questions game. The idea is that you can only speak to one-another using questions. For example, Question: "What are you wearing?" Response: "Can you not see for yourself?" Response: "Don't you know I'm blind?". .. The game goes on and on until somebody cracks. It was me who cracked in the end.
Naturally, she wants something special, and I am about ready to give it to her. "Close your eyes and open your hand."
After she complies, I take her by the hand and we begin to kiss. Perhaps Valentines Day isn't so bad after all!
I continue to build comfort with her. We play another game that I stole from "Who's line is it anyway?" The goal of this game is to end each phrase with 'if you know what I mean'. The idea is to have some sort of obvious sexual implication with each statement. For example, if the situation is in an Elevator: "What floor are you going to? I have to go down, if you know what I mean." Response: "I'm going where everyone else is getting off, if you know what I mean."
I tell her, "Close your eyes and open your hand". She has the biggest smile on her face. After she closes her eyes, I extend my hand and give her a firm handshake. Then we both start laughing hysterically. The sexual escalation continues and we begin to fool around some more. I won't get into any of the details.
As the story goes, my wing number closed Target 2 for me. Ironically, she was not in the least bit disappointed. Target 1 and I decided to go our separate ways at the end of the night. It was probably for the best because we both had work at 7:00AM. We exchange contact info, and kiss each other as the night forces us to part-ways.
She went home this time, but she will come soon, if you know what I mean. . .
CHAT
