In out society men can still do pretty much whatever they want. Women, on the other hand, have to be so clever and take on so much. And now, there is a group of men, who have stolen and produced the secrets that women have used in the dating world for centuries. I watched the television has these couple of men claimed to have the answers, the full proof systems, even had seminars and coaches for this room full of chumps.
I was so angered. I wasn't angered that they were practicing this fine art...only that they thought they had perfected this art...that it was, in fact, their own art. THIEVES!!!!
I recalled how many Woody Allen films I had once endured to catch the prize. All those hours of Woody Allen. And once I finally slept with this guy, I was done...I wanted no more. In fact, after a long night of lovin' and tequila, I awoke groggy and heavy headed, to this guy asking for just one more hand job. I told him no, and got up to find my pants and get the hell out of dodge. He was so sad.
I also recalled the same scenario with a lover of Jim Jarmusch movies...with the same end result...looking for my pants and leaving.
In my time, I learned that buying the drinks often helped in the seduction.
And I learned that one should date the pretty guys, only every once in a while, to up your street cred, but ultimately, those guys were not very good lovers. It was the geeks and the freaks that could really do the deed correctly...the only trade off with them was the emotional baggage, or their obsession with something (i.e. film, star trek, etc.), that you might have to endure a bit of to get to the weenier. All the talking about them...can be tiresome.
I also thought of a guy, who once was big in the music scene, that a friend bet me a Taco Bell, Bean and Cheese Burrito,WITH a drink, that I could not get to ask me out. I had three weeks to do so.
I immediately got to work.
I completely showed up wherever he was, and completely ignored him. I was not a hot, rock n' roll babe. So, I had to be extremely precise and careful. I ignored him completely. And he began to come around. What could the fat chick have? Why isn't she interested in ME? I am a bad, muther fucker!?!
He finally ended up in a conversation with me and another guy, of less stature than he. Oh, he tried to talk to us. And I have to say, he was a cutie, but I could not falter at this time...this was the deal breaking moment. I gave away my attentions to the ugly guy, and even poked an ever so tiny amount of fun at cutie. Then, without a moments notice or hesitation, I abruptly got up and left.
Would it work? Only time would tell. The wait had begun. This entire process had taken almost the entire three weeks. Would I succeed? It was the final night, before the final day of the three weeks. My entire reputation and my lunch was on the line.
The next day, I was sleeping my hangover off, and the phone rang. My roommate nudged me from my sleep and handed me the phone. All croaky, I said hello.
It was cutie. He had even gone to the trouble of finding my number on his own. Fucking bonus!!!!
Cutie asked me out. I held the phone up to my roomate's ear and asked cutie to repeat himself. He did. I had won the lunch. I told him that I had only tried to get him to ask me out for a burrito and drink, and thank you, but no, I didn't want to go out with his conceited ass. I hung up and went back to sleep.
Years later, this same guy would show up fat and road worn from his rock and roll life style. And he pointed to me, came over, and told me that I was the only girl that ever said no to him. I told him I was sorry about that whole mess, I was young...blah, blah, blah. And I'll be damned if his fat ass didn't ask me out again. I told him no, again. End game.
So, all I'm saying, is that these men, these super stars of The Game, did not invent the game, they did not master the game, I'm not even sure if they even know were the game is. Because, even though I have retired my gimmicks and my gags...there is a whole new generation of plump, slightly off in the looks department, young women, who have generations, upon generations, upon generations of women gamer's blood running through their veins...a wisdom the likes that these men have only begun to barely even catch a wiff of.
Nigga' please.
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