Field Report #3:
Date: 2009-10-08 Thursday
Title: One Dollar Cover
(Most of my routines are adaptations of the openers found at mPUAForum.com.)
Place--Webster Hall; Macdougal Street Area; E Train; 7 Train
Time--03:00
8 Approached
2 Hooked
0 Closed
0 Day2ed
0 Laid
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More than a year ago, I met someone at a party who dances House. He told me about a website called the Deep House Party Forums, which lists club parties in major US cities. This forum is now my primary club resource.
Last night, the Sullivan Room hosted an event at $12, but Webster Hall's site boasted $1 cover and drinks before midnight for those who brought a print out slip. How could I refuse?
I arrive at Webster Hall; the place is a sausage fest. I feel good, but as the bass blasts over me, icy fingers grip my chest - AA steals my rehearsed openers and I retreat to the bathroom. After a "longest piss of my life" - and a quick glance at my cheat sheet - I return to the main floor.
I approach the first pair of long legs I see - I'm operating on the half-second rule and it gives me no time to analyze what I'm jumping into. Mystery's three seconds of observation - or Jaybot's ten seconds - can wait.
Set #1: Brunette Two Set
Two 7s (my HB-O-Meter still needs calibration), both of whom are like trees to me at 5'5".
Sorce: Maybe you can help me with something. [At first, #1 looks away and puts up a hand, but I continue.] Do I look gay to you? [Their eyes snap forward and an incredulous smile spreads across their faces.]
#1: No way!
Sorce: Because on the way here, there was this guy who was totally hitting on me! [They laugh, I laugh, but I draw a blank. I don't know what to stack with; I had assumed things would just unfold organically.] Okay, nice meeting you. [I return to the bathroom.]
I figure out a triple stack, leave the bathroom, and see a black girl plowing towards me. I try to open her, but she either doesn't hear me or doesn't care as she blows past, her boyfriend in tow. Okay, take it easy. That kind of moving target is especially tough. Find an static target.
I spy across the room a pair of Japanese girls wall-flowering. As I approach, the obstacle leaves to go to the bar and my target turns her back to me. A perfect set up for a kino entry.
Set #2: Japanese Chickita
As I pass to her right, I tap her left shoulder. She spins to find nobody, then she sees me standing there and her face lights up. As I give her the Looking for a Club Opener (Thanks goes to D-Hollywood for this one!), she begins shaking her head at me - she doesn't understand English. I cringe as I eject - she had an incredibly sweet smile. I should have indiscriminately thrown around the few Japanese phrases I know, for example, "I am but a medicine seller," "I love you," or the childish version of "Are you hungry?"
One day, I will learn how to seduce women without knowing their language.
Set #3: A Club Owner's Girlfriend
I turn from the Japanese girl, and before me are two HB7s, a blond and a brunette, both of whom tower above me. Subconsciously, I must be insecure about my short stature because I feel a certain satisfaction when I think of seducing tall women. I give the blond the Looking for a Club Opener and the two set leans in to hear.]
Blond: Yeah, I know a couple of places: [She reels off maybe seven clubs, but all I pick out is Europa.]
Sorce: How do you know about all these places?
Blond: My boyfriend owns - something - night club. [We fluff for a second, but the conversation quickly stales after the Do I Look Gay? Opener.]
A performance starts that doesn't keep my attention. As I watch, I notice Set #3 is standing just behind me. Mystery says that when a set is standing nearby for no reason, the set wants to be opened. True or not, I had nothing to open with.
In retrospect, although I opened every set, I was too nervous to notice anything about the girls, too nervous to use their clothes to manufacture negs and fluff (Sounds like a breakfast cereal).
The music at Webster Hall is loud and my stacking - clumsy. Perhaps, when I am more confident, I will be able to comfortably talk over the music. Also, in most of my sets this night, I ignore the obstacles almost completely. Oops.
I decide to leave the club and head to the Sullivan Room, get some fuel along the way, and think through a stack four or five openers deep. Macdougal Street - the location of my first successful sarge - is also on the way, so perhaps I will simply work that area again.
Set #4: Mixed Two Set - Physics Student and History Student
After one crepe (Try guacamole and Nutella - trust me, it's good!) and one falafel plate (no onions), I continue down 4th Avenue. A mixed two set are gaining on me - the perfect set-up for a street sarge - and after my $1 warm-up at Webster Hall, I have to open them. I let them almost get level with me when I give them the Do I Look Gay? Opener. The guy responds well, but the girl turns out to be very shy. I throw some indirect negs at her like, "Man, I'm thinking about converting. Picking up girls is just too mean!" She giggles, and the guy picks up the conversation. I should have pushed harder and asked for her opinion on how to better market myself to women.
Finally, we part ways as she heads East, him West, and I South.
When I arrive at Macdougal, I realize it is already quite late, besides the place is kind of dead. I ask a drug dealer for directions, but as I ponder stacking openings I get lost again. In front of a club, I see two tall, gorgeous women smoking and chatting - HB8 and 9.
Set #5: Dutch Two Set
Sorce: Maybe you can help me with something. I am looking for the subway. [They shake their heads.]
HB8: I'm not sure.
Sorce: You don't know? How are you guys going to get home?
HB8: I think it's over that way. [They argue a bit about it and I run the Do I Look Gay? Opener on them.]
HB8: Sometimes really cute guys are mistaken to be gay - clean, well-dressed and everything.
Sorce: Wow, is that a compliment? [I've so far been talking mostly with HB8, but now HB9 pipes in. I should have started giving HB8 kino and give HB9 IODs - turned away, asked her if her nails/hair was fake a la Mystery, etc. - but I blanked.] So, where are you guys from?
HB9: We're from the Netherlands.
HB8: Dutch.
Sorce: Really? [Fluff.] But seriously, am I dressed okay? I mean, does it come across as gay?
HB8: Well, you're good looking, but what's with the sweater around your waist and that bag? You need to lose those - they doesn't look good.
Sorce: Okay, that's good advice. Obviously, I have no clue and need help! [Sensing that I'm running out of material...] Anyway, have a good night girls.
If only I had taken the time notice what I could neg, things might have turned out very differently.
I head over to the subway and as I enter, behind I hear two girls jabbering in Mandarin - two shorties, an HB6 and 7.
Set #6: Taiwanese Two Set
Sorce: [Mandarin] Does this go to Queens? [Their eyes bug out and they just stare at me, mouths open.]
HB7: [Stammering.] Uh, I think so. You speak Mandarin?
Sorce: [English]. What? No, of course not. [I pass the turnstile while they fumble with the ticketing machine. I arrive at the platform and and wait for the girls.
The girls come in and stand directly behind me, staring at a map. That may be an IOI, so I walk up.
Sorce: [Mandarin] Where are you going? Oh, don't answer that - I could be a bad guy. [We fluff for a bit, then get on the train.] It's nice to talk with you guys; I feel like I haven't spoken Mandarin for a long time. [An AFC comment that invites a shit test.]
HB7: I can tell. [I blank on the shit test and we fluff. I lose the set and they eventually leave. I should have said something like, "Wow, if you're that bad to me, I want nothing to do with you. This chika though [I'd turn to HB6], she's nicer; I'll talk with her." (And yes - I know how to say chika in Mandarin.)
I transfer trains, and as I approach the platform, these two Latinos turn around and whistle in my direction. I turn around to see if there's an HB behind me, but there is no one. After a night of telling people that I am a gay magnet - here I am getting hit on by two guys. Oh, how the universe loves irony!
I hear the train coming and sprint to the platform.
There was one routine I had been rehearsing all night called the Blind Date Opener, but I was not confident enough to use it. So when two women get on the train, I decide I need to give the routine a test run. The first is Caucasian, about 19 - an HB7; the other an Indian lady in her twenties dressed professionally - an HB8 or 9. AA gets the better of me, though, and eventually, I nod off.
Set #7: The Latina
I come to as the train stops somewhere. The original two girls have both left, but this HB8 Latina with a smoking body walks in. She's wearing bright blue shoes, a matching jacket, and bleach-white pants that are not quite see-through. She sits two seats from me, and an AFC sits between us. She looks like she had a rough day, but I can tell by the way this girl is peacocked, the way she tosses her hair and fidgets, that she badly wants to be opened - or maybe I just wanted to open her that badly.
I am still feeling AA from the original two girls, but I know I have to open Latina. However, stations pass and I grow increasingly anxious. And now, there is not enough time to talk with her even if I did open - my station is three stops away. Two stops. One stop. Here. But I don't even flinch to get up; there is no way this Latina is getting away without a fight.
As we pull away from my station, I turn to her:
Sorce: Maybe you can help me with something - I need a female opinion. This thing has been bugging me all night and I'm pretty nervous about it. [Just thinking about how AFC I sound makes me cringe. AFC, however, is precisely what I want.] I'm going on a blind date this Saturday and I have no idea how to dress or act! [Nervous laugh.]
[As I deliver this last line, I can physically feel her bitch shield melting away and her heart opening up as she gives me this sympathetic, doggy-eye look. I am the AFC posterboy - a wolf-in-training in sheep's clothing.]
Sorce: I need some tips so I don't look like a complete idiot!
Latina: Just dress casual. Where are you taking here? [I pause; I hadn't thought about that.]
Sorce: Uh, I'm not sure. We are meeting up at Union Square and we'll just find a place to eat.
Latina: I don't know. You just need to be yourself.
Sorce: Be myself? That's terrible advice! [Laughing.] Man, what I'm looking for here is the secret to a girl's heart! Seriously, though, if you were going on a blind date, what would you want the guy to wear?
Latina: Black slacks.
Sorce: Okay, so you'd want it more formal. That's not bad advice. [Long pause to change topics.] Hey, nice shoes. You're really trying to match, huh? [I should have kinoed by pulling at her jacket a little.]
Latina. Yeah, I try my best, you know?
Sorce: Do you have different color shoes with matching jacket for everyday of the week?
Latina: Haha, sometimes.
Sorce: Are you coming back from a club, or what? You're dressed for a party.
Latina: I am? No, I didn't go clubbing. I went to a bar with some friends, but I only drank a little because I'm so tired. [Here, I should have used a disqualifier: "So, you usually drink a lot? Yeah, I can tell you're a party animal; things would never work out between us."]
Sorce: Yes, you look pretty tired. You must've worked today too. [Work's a bad subject, but I wanted the "tired" neg.]
Latina: Yeah, I worked today.
Sorce: What do you do?
Latina: [Sheepishly.] Grocery store.
Sorce: That's cool. A couple months back, I cashiered in a Japanese Restaurant. [Suddenly, we hear whistling from the other side of the train. Those two gay Latinos from earlier had been watching the whole sarge. I roll my eyes at the girl.] Those two guys whistling at us there - they're gay. I was walking behind them when I got onto this 7 Train, and when they turned around and saw me, they started whistling. [I sound like an ass here - I'm pointing out homosexuality as if it's a bad thing when it's not. I don't think she picked up on it though. Anyway, I launch into the Do I Look Gay? Opener.]
Latina: You don't look gay at all. [Of course, the whole idea of the opener is dumb. There's except for the exceptionally flamboyant, there's no real "gay look." Actually, pointing out the stupidity of the question as part of this routine would act as a DHV because you're showing you are a progressive person who is also willing to admit when he is being simplistic. You can go a step further and show that you are comfortable and secure with your sexuality by saying that whether you are perceived as gay or straight makes no difference to you.]
Sorce: I think someone broke their gay-dar.
Latina: Anyway, I get that a lot too. People say I dress gay.
Sorce: Personally, I think it's your nose.
Latina: What? [She covers her nose.] Is it because it's really manly or something? [This girl has a delicate roman nose, though it was still not very big. Personally, I found her nose cute. It hadn't occurred to me that as a self-conscious youth, it was possible that she had been bashful about her nose's shape.]
[I dub this the Gay Nose Routine. I made this routine when I was chatting with a bi girl from my online dating days.
Basically, if the girl mentions she is bisexual or lesbian, I tell the girl that I guessed as much because of the shape of her nose (or clothing, or eyes, etc.). Then I go on to tell her that it is thought people are born gay or straight, based on their genetics. I say have a theory, though, that this genetic predisposition extends to physical features too. I tell my target that she has those physical markers. On Latina, that's as far as I went, but I might go on to say how I feel a person's sexuality is determined by a mixture of nature and nurture - genetics and environmental influence. Afterward, I may tell her that they say the majority of women are actually bisexual - that many women sometimes prefer another woman's touch as well. Then, I might add that probably guys are the same way, but because men are often insecure about their sexual orientation, most guys never admit it even to themselves. I end by saying that this one cause of homophobia.]
[Finally, I tell her...]
Sorce: Don't worry, though - you've got adorable freckles. It's a nice nose.
We fluff for a while and she jokes that she's Lesbian. I tell her I was kidding about the whole bisexual/lesbian nose profiling theory and I found out she had actually taken me seriously. She asks me some personal questions, and I joke with her about how I don't understand why most girls aren't Lesbian - after all, I don't find guys aren't very attractive at all.
Later, I give her an FTC ("It's my stop in a few."), but she doesn't ask for my number or anything. I wish I had said, "Listen, that was my stop, but I didn't get off for a reason, and that reason is you. Now, it's your move. Are we going to have an adventure together, or am I going to leave at the next station and never see you again?"
Finally, I realize that I'm blanking on how to escalate this, and I need to get back home anyway. I tell her the next stop is mine and plan to say, "Latina, I want your number," but the next stop comes right away and there's no time.
Despite not closing, I was so happy to overcome thirty minutes of AA and that I chatted up a hot Latina. All my life, I would spy women on the street guiltily, desperately. I would wonder about each passing stranger; after all, meeting someone can change a life forever. Why does society isolate us from each other when we all want adventure, excitement, to meet interesting people, to experience something incredible? Now, each woman I pass seems to be an crackling electric charge of potential just waiting to be opened, explored, and experienced.
Yesterday, I saw this Chinese babe heading past me as I was thinking about something I had just read about a technique called Smut Eyes in the e-Book Jaybot's Club Game. The idea is when you see a girl you want to seduce, you picture her fingering herself while thinking about you - or as Jaybot writes, that she's moaning your name. The image puts this mischievous smirk on your face and your eyes will have a sexual glean to them, which you hit the target with full force.
The Chinese girl approached and an image of her flashed in my mind and our eyes met. She suddenly looked startled and her jaw dropped. Next time, I'll opener her too.[/img]
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