Field Reports

The night starts off as any other normal night with Wingman Stick and I at the local pub. We are relaxing and enjoying the raucous Friday night crowd. Though I was enjoying the festive atmosphere, I was really awaiting the arrival of Darty Diane who I’d met the previous night.

Two hours pass and still no sign of Diane. I am bummed out. I was almost sure she’d show up tonight.

I turn to Wingman Stick and ask if he knows of anywhere else we could go tonight.

“I heard it was goth night at this small bar across town. Could be interesting.” Stick says.

“Yea lets do it. At the very least it should make for a good story,” I reply.

Without any hesitation we hop into a cab to begin our freakishly amusing night.

As we arrive outside of the bar we quickly realize that we may be under dressed…or wrongly dressed as the case may be. I am wearing my own unique style which is a cross between rocker and lumberjack. Wingman Stick looks like a young Mr. Rogers. The ten or so people waiting in the line were all of varying shades of black. This should be interesting.

We work our way inside of the bar where we are first confronted by the doorman.

“No. Sorry you guys are in the wrong place.” he says

“This is goth night, isn’t it?”

“It is, which is why you two aren’t getting in.”

“Why not?” I say, “Just because we’re dressed differently doesn’t mean we can’t be freaks.”

“You two look like a couple of frat boys.”

“Come on man, just let us in. Next time we’ll wear black, we promise.” I say with big grin.

After a bit more cajoling and a steep cover charge we are finally allowed to go inside. The scene upon entering was straight out of the movie Blade. You know, the scene at the very beginning where all the young vampire wannabes are tranced out to industrial style music right before being attacked by the real vampires. It was eerily similar to this. All we needed was for blood to start raining down from the ceiling.

After a few beers and getting acclimated to the music we decide to attempt some dance floor maneuvers. We walk straight into a sea of zombie like creatures. I start to dance but I stick out like a sore thumb. Whatever. I am going to have fun and not succumb to the depressed state of people that seems to be surrounding me.

Don’t get me wrong, It may seem like I am coming down hard on the goth crowd but I’m not. I actually kind of like the music and there is something I find incredibly attractive about the goth girl look. Perhaps it is the whole seductive vampire thing…or maybe it’s the tight black vinyl outfits with fishnet stockings.

There is a cute woman dressed in a burlesque outfit who is dancing next to me. I attempt to grab her hand and dance with her but she ignores me. She seems perfectly content on spinning in circles while punching the air. It looks like my normally charming dance style is powerless amongst the living dead.

Several more dance attempts later, I decide to give up. I stroll back to the bar area where Stick and I would discover a deadly new opener. The effectiveness was stunning; almost like combining a crucifix, garlic and holy water all into one little sentence. What is this opener you ask?

“Hi, I really like your smile.”

Yes, I know, it’s amazing. We took turns approaching using this simple yet surprisingly powerful line. It appears that by simply saying this one line, you can make a goth girl light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

I believe this opener was effective because 1) Almost no one at the bar was smiling and 2) It’s probably a compliment that they don’t hear very often. By telling a girl who is not smiling that she has a nice smile, it makes it almost impossible for her to not smile. Does that make any sense? The whole point is to make her go from serious goth face to happy go lucky “your not so scary” face.

With this new found knowledge, Stick and I quickly become quite the centers of attention. We talk to so many goth girls that I can’t even remember all of them. It turns out these vampirellas were mortals after all.

The night is coming to a close. We decide that we’ve done enough vampire hunting for one night. We catch a cab back home as we debrief on the night’s activities. I can’t wait until the next goth night. Perhaps I’ll dress up as Blade.

Ughh, why does my brain hurt? What the hell is that beeping sound? I turn my head to look at the glowing digital clock. It reads 8:22. Shiiiitttt!

I fly out of bed in a panic, realizing I have eight minutes to get to work. How could this have happened? I only had three beers last night. While fumbling my way to the bathroom I try to recall last night’s activities.

(Flashback to Thursday Evening)

After a long day at work, I get home exhausted and take a quick nap. If it hadn’t been for the phone ringing, I probably would have slept through until morning. I was that tired.

I reach for my cellphone.

“Hello” I answer.

“Hey there cutie, you gonna come out with us tonight?”

It was Wing Woman. I have been trying to avoid her since a few weeks ago when things got a little steamy between us.

“Sorry, I’m beat tonight and I have an important meeting tomorrow” I reply.

Wing Woman vehemently tries to get me to come out. It’s so bad that she is on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“Listen, if you want someone to go dancing with tonight you should probably try calling your boyfriend” I retort.

“You suck!” click.

I stumble downstairs to make some dinner just in time to watch Sundance Head get voted off American Idol. What the fuck. Are Americans idiots? How could they have voted for Sanjaya and not Sundance? The name alone is enough for him to make it to the top 12! What a terrible day, I need a beer.

After consuming a giant bowl of ziti, I throw on a coat and head down to the local pub. It’s a slow night with only a hand full of regulars. I notice two girls sitting at the bar. One is my Hot Roommate and the other is a cute Latin girl.

I walk over to say hi.

“Hi”

“Heeeeyyy, whats going on?” says Hot Roommate

“Eh, just needed to get a beer after a long day of work” I said, “By the way, you left the toaster on again the other night. Luckily I was around to smell the burning toast and keep us from dying in a raging inferno.”

“Oh, haha, sorry about that.”

What a ditz. Listen, if I’m going to risk my life living in the same house with you then the least you could do is pay me another late night visit. Is that too much to ask?

I turn my head to the cute Latin girl, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet. My name is Matt.”

“Hi, I’m Latin Girl.”

I continue conversing with Latin Girl and Hot Roommate. I begin flirting with Latin Girl. I’m starting to get warmed up as I start to feel my witty sense of humor come to life. Eventually our fun vibe attracts the other regulars until we have a small circle of people. Someone hands me a shot. I shoot it down. Ugh, I’m going to feel that in the morning.

I’m getting tired of standing. I need to sit down and relax. I slink my way out of the drunken clique and grab a bar stool near the dart board.

Not more than ten minutes pass when I am approached by an attractive female. She is standing in front of me with one hand on her hips and the other twirling her hair.

“Umm, Hi. Will you play darts with me?” she says.

“Uh yea, sure. Do you know how to play?” I ask.

She gives me a dirty look, “of course, silly!”

We introduce ourselves. For the purposes of this post, we’ll call her Darty Diane. We play darts. She ends up being one of the worst dart players ever. In fact, she even misses the board on quite a few occasions.

I’m sure that this whole thing was just her way of flirting with me. Every time we hand the darts off, our hands linger on each other for longer than usual. At one point, one of Diane’s darts falls off the board onto the ground. She bends over to pick it up. Oh my!

Dear Penis, If you promise not to fuck this up then I promise I will do every thing in my power to get you a piece of that ass.

We finally finish the game (I won) and sit down to talk some more. There is some light banter and small talk. The comfort phase advances nicely. I like this girl.

“Last call!” shouts the bartender.

“Well, I have to get going,” Diane says, “are you going to be here tomorrow night?”

“Yea, I’ll probably make an appearance”

“Alright, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

She goes to hug me goodbye but instead of a hug I turn it into a kiss. It wasn’t a make-out type of kiss; it was more of a peck on the lips. It wasn’t much but at least it’s paving the way for something better. She put on her coat and just like that she was gone.

I walk home; exhausted and tired; I fall to the bed and pass out.

I’ve been out sick for most of the week along with the rest of the city, so I haven’t been going out sarging. I haven’t even been socializing that much just because I’ve been feeling so awful. On the positive side though I did catch up on a lot of reading (the memoirs of Casanova) and did some other writing outside of this blog. Also, I managed to go out and play the role of wing man on Saturday night as a favor for one of my friends, even though I wasn’t in the best of conditions.

My friend (lets call him Timid Tom) is what people in the pick-up artist community would call AFC or average frustrated chump. Tom is kind of a shy guy, not very social and is especially not good at meeting women.

Despite my efforts to relay my knowledge of seduction to Tom he has remained very reluctant to change. I’m not trying to force him to change because I don’t think that is possible. I can only help and support change, not facilitate it.

Tom took a big step forward this weekend by calling Wingman Stick and I to go out and be his wing men. Apparently, Tom had finally asked a girl out who he has had a crush on for the last two years. He had agreed to go out to a club with her and her friends on Saturday night, so to level the playing field he invited me and Stick along.

Saturday night roles around and I am feeling much better with some lingering cold symptoms. Wingman Stick and I meet up with Timid Tom as we head downtown. I can tell that Tom is nervous because he is talking faster than normal and is acting very jumpy. I try to lighten the mood a bit by cracking some corny jokes and talking about other things.

We arrive downtown at the arranged meeting spot to find ourselves standing in front of three very beautiful women. Tom had done well, very well!

We make our introductions to each other. Among the girls are Simple Cindy (Tom’s crush), Aggressive Annie and a stunning woman who looks a lot like Brooke Burns (lets call her Bombshell Brooke). It looks like wingman duty is turning out to be pretty damn good.

Unfortunately, our meet-up time was a bit on the late side, around 11 PM which means we’d end up having to wait in a long line before finally getting into the club. Normally, this would be frustrating for me but I made the best of it by flirting with many of the other girls in the line. It also allowed us some time to banter with our three beauties.

We finally get inside the club and order our drinks. The three girls and Tom disappear into a corner somewhere to make small talk. Wingman Stick and I had a different plan. We decided to go around and approach some women. Now, you may be wondering why we would leave our three female companions out in pasture for the wolves. We did this for two reasons: 1) to get ourselves warmed up and 2) to display social proof by attracting other beautiful women.

Stick and I each took turns approaching for the next 45 minutes. In all we had approached a combined ten sets. Most of them were crash and burns. For some reason all the women in this club were very snobbish. It didn’t matter, we had fun doing it. It actually turned into a game where we’d try to see who could get shot down the fastest.

Later in the night after our final blow out, Bombshell Brooke and Aggressive Annie walked over to us.

“Hey, where have you two been? We’ve been looking for you.” Brooke said.

“Oh, we’ve been making friends” I replied with a sly smile.

“Yea I noticed you guys talking to all these girls. What, are you two some kind of ladies men?”

“Haha, well I don’t know about that. I think we are just really social that’s all. Hey, I think the band is about to come on, lets go check it out.” I say

We walk over to the stage area where we see Tom and Cindy. The band starts playing and dancing commences. Tom and Cindy start dancing together and then Stick and Annie begin dancing. This just leaves Brooke standing by herself slowly moving to the music. I switch into dance mode and give her the “come hither” motion. She grabs my hand as I pull her onto the dance floor.

Out of all my social skills, dancing is by far my strongest suit. I really have to brag here because I know that I am an exceptional dancer, in fact I get complimented on it all the time.

I am in full control as I move Brooke’s body around the floor in a graceful yet dominate fashion. A twirl here and a dip there; we pause for a moment in between songs.

“Oh my god, you are an amazing dancer. Where did you learn to do that?” she says

“I practice in the shower every morning!” I reply

She giggles and motions for me to continue dancing with her as the next song is played. I take a look around the room to see how my boys are doing. Stick is talking with Annie and Tom is slow dancing with Cindy. It seems like we are doing our duty as wingmen. Tom has isolated Cindy into an embracing slow dance while her friends are being kept occupied by Stick and I.

Towards the end of the night, I stop dancing with the intent of keeping Brooke isolated. We are still watching the band except now we are standing side by side leaning into each other. She keeps brushing up against me. This is a clear indicator of interest. Before I can escalate any further, Annie grabs my hand and drags me to the dance floor.

Somehow I get stuck dancing with Annie until closing time. There is a sudden rush to get home and I begin struggling with trying to arrange last minute logistics.

“Hey I’m starving, lets go to China Town and get some General Gao’s!” I blurt out.

But it’s no use. The girls were resisting my attempts to continue the night. I even try to get Bombshell Brooke to give us a ride home but it is no dice. It’s time to part ways.

We say our goodbyes making sure to arrange for another fun night, which they agree to. Just before leaving, I grab Brooke’s hand and pull her in for a quick kiss on the lips. I must have come on too strong because she quickly turns her head so that my lips hit the side of her cheek instead. Oh well, at least I took the risk.

The boys and I catch a cab home as we debrief each other on the night. Tom thanked us for being there. He says that it went well with him and Cindy, so I’m glad that he at least made some inroads with his crush, he definitely deserves it.

I’m sitting down at lunch eating my bowl of soup while reading the paper, when in walks a beautiful young woman. She reminds me of a younger Eva Mendes. She is stunning.

She sits down at the table next to me. I continue reading my paper while glancing at her every now and then. I begin to notice her glancing in my direction. I should say something.

She glances over again. Is she looking at me? What else could she be looking at? I’m the only one sitting on this side of her. Maybe she is attracted to me. Maybe she wants me to talk to her. I really should talk to her.

I continue reading my newspaper. I am not sure what I am thinking. What do I have to lose. This whole situation is the reason why I study seduction in the first place. After all, what good is it to call myself a seduction artist when I can’t even talk to a beautiful woman who keeps looking at me. I’m going to say something. I’m going to talk to her right now.

I turn my head towards her. She looks over at me and smiles. My mouth drops open as I am about to speak. Nothing comes out.

She’s still looking at me, waiting. My mind is blank. Somehow I’ve forgotten the concept of language. I close my mouth and just smile back, as I turn my head back towards the newspaper.

I can feel her disappointment. I can feel my disappointment. All I had to do was say something, say anything. It would have been better than nothing. I know better than this. It is time for another change in my game.

From this day forth I will make it my goal to talk to one new woman each day. I don’t have to get into a long involved conversation with them, I just need to say something; I just need to anything!

The time and place for seduction is not two nights a week at some bar or club. The time for seduction is ANY TIME. The place for seduction is EVERYWHERE.

I finish my soup and get up to leave. As I’m exiting the store, another young woman is walking in. I stop and hold the door for her.

As she walks in I say, “Hi.”

“Hi.” she replies with a smile.

I continue on back to work feeling better already.