One of the
worst mistakes I ever made (and still, unfortunately, make) was neglecting my friends. Chris, my
ex-fiancee, was from a different school than I was. In an attempt to be with her as much as possible, I started
socializing with her friends more than my own. Eventually, it was a chance event if I’d see any of my
old friends once a month. After Chris left, all of her friends left with her... Leaving me with
nothing. All of my friends, over the next few months, moved out of town to go to a
university in a
nearby city. The following story is true, though some creative timeline liberties have been made.
After keeping to myself as a
social recluse for almost a complete year, I decided enough was enough and I was going to get out there and "
find me some chicks." Being a
social klutz and extremely
shy, I had no idea how to do so. My
high-school experience with girls could be summed up with the word "
nerd." More on highschool in a later node, though.
I thought might as well go to parties or something, hang out with friends, see how things go. So I
slicked back my hair, put on my
fancy clothes (
Flannel button up shirt and
cords, oh yeah baby!) and went to a fair-sized
Year 2000 Apocalypse Party.
Boy was I shocked.
In my previous experiences, I was lucky if I got a second glance, let alone a word, let alone any physical contact, and completely ruling out any kind of
romantic words, and absoultely not even considering the possibility of a kiss. I won’t explain my expectations any further than that because there simply weren’t any.
At this party, not only did I talk to 4 girls, touch 2, wear one’s glasses, and got into extended conversation with another... I ended up walking one
lucky lady down to the waterfront to watch the
fireworks. We made it on time but for some odd reason I missed the fireworks. Her head was in the way most of the time. After the party I got to
escort her home. As noone was around to escort me home that night, I never got there. ~winks~
Honestly speaking, I didn’t particularly know this girl too well and in my
drunken state I didn’t particularly hold her values too highly. Lucky for me I tracked her down on
ICQ and discovered she was a real person later that week. Afterwards I visited her a few times for the explicit purpose of getting to know the person I spent the
apocalypse with.
Even though I had found someone who liked me, I was
infuriated at the fact that girls truly do go for the igood looking guyso, instead of the guys with great personalities.
It’s all about first impressions!
The
scientist in me wouldn’t let this little observation go untested. I started my Social Experiments to prove my success as a
fluke. On second thought, maybe I just wanted more chicks.
I started at
work; I dressed in my drab clothes, scruffy hair, unshaven. Customers would come in and look at me in disgust. For some reason my boss’ satisfaction with my work dropped around the same time. I quickly (and thankfully) realized that I was merely being unprofessional and this was not the atmosphere to do these activities in. My
superiors also informed me of this.
The next weekend there was a small party in town. I packed a backpack with my fancy clothes in it, with some
hair gel. I carted down to the party in my ratty clothes. Lo and behold, I walked into the party, and the only ones that noticed me were my friends. I socialized for a while and tried chatting to a few people but noone seemed interested. It was time to
pull a superman.
I went to the bathroom and changed into my “fancy” flannel clothes with an
Indiana Jones T-Shirt underneath. Slicked back my hair. I quickly stepped out the backdoor and walked back in the
front door. The change was dramatic. The host greeted me at the door with a
handshake, thinking that I just arrived. Offered me free use of his
fridge. Everyone in the hallway said “Hi,” the females enthusiastically. I had turned, in a mere
5 minutes, into a
desireable sex object. I’ll bet it was the hair.
I was in too much shock, just oggling at the situation, to take advantage of anyone. I sat back down with my friends and smiled at the people walking by. I absorbed the atmosphere and got used to the attention.
But my next party... I was prepared. I dressed the same, and got the same results. I chatted up 3 girls, refused to
follow one to the bedroom, and got to walk one out to a waiting
cab. A trend I noticed was that these people were either
drunk, or
stoned, or both. After much post-party thought, I had a set up a game-plan. I discovered exactly what different types of girls want, and what they want to hear to make them think I can provide it. That’s right, I figured out how to be a
lying, cheating, sleazy, average male.
This is it guys, the
holy grail. Any woman can be yours with the next paragraphs of wisdom. Of course, pulling it off without my hair will be somewhat difficult, but life’s full of
little challenges. Keep in mind that I have kept my integrity steadfast and didn't take any females past the advanced stages of
flirting. Really. *coughs uneasily*
Also keep in mind that I do not view
intelligent women as
objects or something to be won over; it’s the
drunk stoned females that fall for my good looks and modesty that I despise. I use the
judicial power vested in me from my own consciousness to
punish them with the irony of my actions.
The woman looking to score is an easy job. Conversation laden with
sexual innuendos and
alcohol definitely help. A nice sarcastic stretching-yawn-arm-around-the-shoulder usually works to get conversation heading off the boring stuff and on-track to success. They usually go for the best looking guy at the party and work downwards from there, since they feel that all men are
sex crazed and they might as well get the best. If you are brave enuogh,
whisper naughty things in their ear. This could get your
ass kicked, on the down side.
The lonely or shy woman is another easy job. Simple conversation, even as simple as the
weather, work. The key to
winning her over is listening to what she has to say and sympathizing with any woes. If your opinions or views on anything are not the same as hers, MAKE THEM THE SAME. This is incredibly against my morals, but these are
potheadded drunkards, remember. They deserve to be punished. Never tell a joke, do an impression, or even ATTEMPT anything outside of conversation unless you are sure they will appreciate it, or if you are in
dire straits for something to say. Keep in mind that nothing is worse than telling a joke and finding out she has no
sense of humor.
I take that back. There is something worse - having to explain the joke to a girl too stoned to understand.
The point is that they will identify you as a co-sufferer of whatever woes they may have, and will through association
grow attracted to you.
My favorite challenges are
the ones with boyfriends.
Bonus points if the
boyfriend is at the party. As soon as a girl mentions they are not single, pick up on something about the boyfriend and pick it apart. If they mention he’s into
lacross, explain how you are against violence of any type and lacross is a mere
macho sport that men too wussy for
rugby use. Make them realize that the boyfriend is
inferior to yourself. If you can’t beat him physically, it usually means you have better morals. If you can’t convince them to drop you any hints,
sell yourself. Let them know how dedicated you are, how lovely they look, and continue
lying your ass off until you succeed.
Laughter is the best medicine Doctor Love ever perscribed.
A general rule about every female is to avoid all subjects to do with
relationships (especially previous ones),
religion,
politics, and above all -
SPORTS. The only exception is the
physically active woman. But then again, if you are reading this node, you’re probably a
weak geek like me, and you couldn’t handle her anyway.
Remember -
treat the intelligent women with respect, because they’re the ones that you’ll end up spending
the rest of your life with. If you explain your purely
scientific experiment to them, they may even
help you out. And what better prospect for a serious date than one that joins in on your
fun?
After a few months of experimenting in different environs I had, sadly, proved myself to be one
talented sexy being of love. Not to mention incredibly
sarcastic. It turns out that most people are attracted to your looks, then want to get into your pants. Almost noone cares for your personality or what you’re really like, except for the special few females that join you in your
quest to seduce everyone at the party.
I have hence decided that
parties are not the place to meet people. My next experiment will be the
local pubs, followed by open
public places, such as university campuses and parks.