Genie In A Bottle

How much do I have to drink before she comes out?

Until one of my buddies offered me a ticket to the Falcons preseason game, I was considering crawling inside a bottle for the whole weekend. It's been a hot and rough summer - and nothing cures summer blues like being blitzed in the Hotlanta heat. If I had more of an addictive personality and enough time in a given week, I could be a full fledged alcoholic. Ah, to dream...

In any case - my friends and I ended up heading to Atlanta Brewing Company before the game, drank at the Georgia Dome, then at a friend's suite at Dragon*Con, and finally ended up at Twisted Taco where I ran into a friend and her cute and adorable girlfriend... and their respective boyfriends. I always liked CAAGirl, and I think my hands may have expressed my affection more than I intentioned. Thankfully, the boyfriend didn't notice or didn't mind. Who is to say these days.

Twisted Taco is interesting like that. I have met a huge number of girls there, and made out with not a few of them... and a good amount of them were attached in some way. Hell, I remember one Labor Day weekend I was there with a big group of folks and this hot blonde in her thirties with cute fake boobs comes up to me, pulls me close, shoves her tongue down my throat - and then stops, saying, "I shouldn't do this, my boyfriend is right behind you." I turn around, and there he is. One look at him told me my nose was going to be just fine. In that case, I pull her back and start kissing her again, passionately, until the boyfriend eventually protests weakly. Of course, the ensuing discussion amongst my friend is the over/under on how many minutes it will take me to go after her again (7, by the way). I didn't get her home with me, but man did I try.

Over the last few years, I've noticed a lot of women who act the same way. I could understand if they are pornstars or swingers or someone who would never promise monogamy or fidelity - but for the rest, playing this game of physical baseball in the bar/club scene is just ridiculous. Especially since someone with enough game can easily get the girl to commit an error and earn an in-field home run and cheat for real. It's been awhile, but I have made that hit plenty of times in the past. Of course, back then I travelled a lot more and had more opportunities; plus I was less willing to listen to words from a girl's mouth, opening me to reading how she acted.

Now, I feel this odd urge to "settle down," and find a "nice" girl. Instead, I find that many of the guys who have settled are dealing with way more bullshit than I could ever stand. If that doesn't make you want to drink, nothing will.

In Defense of the Asshole

I've been a bad bad boy.


Sometimes being an asshole is a viable defense. Last night I was driving home from a friend's housewarming party, and I really didn't want to go home. It was only midnight, but since I will be in Miami Beach for a week this summer fencing, partying, and getting hammered - I kinda need to conserve funds. As I started driving up I-75 towards home, I sped past my exit as my feet decided to side with my dick and head up to Lassiter's on Cobb Parkway.

There are few things special about Lassiter's. The beer isn't all that cheap, the food is tasty but not special. It looks and feels like a dive, and it sits in a minor shopping center. In terms of Hotlanta trendiness, its not even on the radar screen. Even so, it has a charm all it's own - from the exhaustive poster of bad blonde jokes above the john in the men's bathroom, to the tiny dancefloor that sits in the doorway between the game room and the dining area.

In terms of talent, there is some, but not a lot. The competition for that talent, however, is non-existent. In other words, I am the only guy who ever bothers to talk to the two cute girls in the room. In this case there was a cute thirtysomething blonde, and her quiet brunette friend. The two were playing pool, the blonde seemed to be kicking ass, the brunette really didn't know what she was doing. After making my way over to a table near theirs - the three of us started talking, and when the waiter moved my beer to their hightop table - well, he did my work for me. After many beers, a few games of pool, and dancing on the tiny dancefloor - I wasn't sure where things were going to go. Both girls had boyfriends, and the blonde, Megan, insisted on my number so she could set me up with a friend or something. Claire, the brunette, protested that they don't know me, and that I could be just pretending to be a nice guy.

At that point I said, "Claire, I'm an asshole." Megan argued that I wasn't, but I declared I was. It seems counterintuitive, but I've found when talking to women for the first time you are better off declaring your bad intentions than promoting your good ones, however sincere they may or may not be. Women are afraid of being lied to in a bar, and rightly so. Being upfront about the fact that you aren't trying to impress anyone, that you are only interested in having a good time - gives whoever you are talking to the opportunity to understand what they are dealing with, and to take it or leave it. With friends of their boyfriends watching, the girls were in a complex situation, because since I had hands and a bit of lipstick all over me, I knew they were interested in being bad. We would have never approached this juncture if I tried to mask myself with the veil of being "a nice guy."

On Winning

When you first enter my home, the first thing you notice is how small the living room feels. There isn’t a lot of standing room, but it is very cozy for sitting down to listen to music, watch TV, or cuddle by the fireplace. On the mantle, you will notice my humidor, flanked by DVDs, flags, and of course, my fencing medals. If you are truly observant, you will notice that only one of them is gold.

While I hate to jinx myself by saying that 2nd/3rd place may be a way of life for me, there is some evidence of that. With the exception of academics, I have rarely won anything outright. I remember getting 2nd place in my elementary school paper airplane competition, two years in a row. In elementary track and field, year and years ago, I only managed to get third in the dash. I came in second every time I ran for class president in High School. Even now, as I work my ass off in the grand sport of Olympic fencing – I have never won an individual competition.

However, I can’t say I have never won anything. In music, my ensembles usually got I ratings, as did the marching band. In my brief attempt at Science Olympiad, my partner and I won a gold medal for an experiment that I really can’t even remember. In college, I won my fraternity’s presidential election, but only after assembling a group to help plan my victory. Even my first hook up in college was supported and cheered on my friends visible in the background but just out of earshot. And my single fencing gold medal was earned in a team men’s epee event – where both the responsibility to succeed and the glory were shared.

Looking at this interesting contrast, I begin to ask myself – who really, truly, wins alone? Every person who has beaten me in a gold medal bout has had his or her (yeah, I know) parents by his or her side, cheering them on and making sure that every need is met. Even the adults without parents are supported by their clubmates, folks who are willing to drive, bring food, whatever it takes to allow their chosen athlete to focus on winning. However, I have gotten used to never being supported by my parents. I’ve always provided for myself; and I fueled my ambition on the sighs and moans of the family of my opponents. But as I begin to make more and more friends in my club and people begin to tie their hopes to mine in camaraderie – that outside support is translating into more and more individual success for me.

Even a solitary night needs a squire… you really can’t win alone.

Erin McLean, A Girl To Die For?

What a happy family.

Most of my friends know I am partial to redheads... and blondes... and especially girls whose hair is naturally orange like Vitamin C's... but I digress. The point is that Erin McLean isn't worth going to jail for, much less taking a couple rounds of buckshot to the face.

Seriously, this woman nearly beats her kid for mentioning to Dad that a strange man was holding Mommy's hand when the three of them went to the park. I love both my parents, but I am not sure even I am that loyal. Click the link to see a pic of the dead kid - although he looks like a vanilla redneck kid to me. Maybe I really don't understand women. I get it when women fall for guys like Tom Brady or Shamar Moore, and I can see that even Chris "You're with me, Leather" Berman looks like Tony Soprano. But a skinny fuck like Sean Powell? I'm lost.

I have been following this trend for over a year now, and I still don't get this one. I get the single women who are lonely, the nerdy women who never was good enough for the cool kids until they hit MILF status, the youngish twentysomethings who still get damp over the cut up high school varsity athletes, the women so stuck in a rut they just want to do something nasty, and the women who are so neglected by their husbands that the easy praise from male jailbait starts to be irresistable. But this one - a woman with a career with a future, a supportive, attentive, and apparently passionate husband, an obviously intelligent and sensitive kid - and she still throws it all away from some 19 year old white trash with no prospects? Are people born this stupid or do they have to practice?

Sexytime Relationship Management(SRM) - Hot and Cold

Last Friday I planned to have a busy night. I scheduled a happy hour at Fox and Hounds near my place at 6pm, and then planned to take out a cute blonde for a night of salsa dancing and drinks at 8:30pm. The blonde was meant to be working late on Friday so I didn't invite her to the happy hour. That worked out because we only met recently, and I invited another girl (Blonde #2) I had a passing interest instead.

Of course, these things rarely work out as planned. Blonde #2 arrived a bit late, and with a few friends in tow. Great conversation, good food, and good friends all around assured that it would be a fun night. Then I got a text message from Blonde #1 that she was arriving at my place a full 90 minutes ahead of schedule. Well, this could get awkward. I excused myself and left briefly to drive the three minutes to my condo to pick up my date for the night. When I found her, she was attired in a pretty satin dress and was looking very impressive. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, lightly joked about her early arrival - and informed her we would be at a bar for an hour or so. She wasn't happy about being overdressed, but she was fine with it.

Arriving back at Fox and Hounds, I made an effort to introduce Blonde #1 to most of the group, while Blonde #2 was engaged with my friends and her own. I lavished attention on Blonde #1, and when appropriate, I visited Blonde #2 and lavished attention on her - and make sure to kiss her cheek before I left with Blonde #1.

As the night went on (as dancing turned into drunken writhing), I wondered how I could have better handled that situation. Blonde #2 was always a bit unreliable, so I didn't worry too much about upsetting her. Yet, had I had more of an advanced relationship with B2 - I would have been in trouble.

I typically can handle these sorts of situations on my own, but this time I needed help from Taki. Just recently he posted an article that seemed to be spot on.

But not everybody who uses chat-up lines is a playboy, otherwise you’d have 50 million Italian playboys and ten million Greek ones. Show me an Italian or a Greek man who doesn’t flirt and I’ll show you a pervert. Flirting has never ruined a marriage or driven a wife to drink. Coldness does that. Men who flirt usually service their wives regularly, and everyone else they can get hold of. (italics mine)

The coldness piece caught my attention. I find it is easy to flirt with a whole group of women, as long as I am careful not to neglect any of them. I also realized that most women (and men for that matter) tend to realize their partner is cheating once he starts becoming cold towards her. It also explains how Magic Johnson can get HIV from sleeping around, yet his wife still goes through the effort of condoms and frequent check-ups just so she can have sex with her adulterous husband. The now insane Britney Spears didn't dump K-Fed because he knocked her up and spent her money (and most likely cheated on her) ... he became cold to her. Even in my experience, I dated a girl in Indiana who didn't mind if I slept with other women because she knew how much I hungered for her. And she wouldn't even allow herself the same freedom.

So according to Taki, the only thing I could have done better is to make sure that both women knew I deeply desired them, and to even suggest marriage... although I won't go that far.

The article goes on to give even more tips on how to be a better playboy, chief of which is to be generous. Unfortunately, playboys don't have the cultural impact they had in the past - after all, one must be rich to be a playboy. It is much cheaper to be a player/playa... and being a pimp don't cost nuthin'.

What We've Got Here Is a FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE... Online

In this new age of instant messaging, email, voicemail, and the like - sometimes messages can me misconstrued or crossed. So while it is cool that I can talk to Miss Daisy about Sarah Spain and send pictures of her hot cleavage from Atlanta to Chicago at the speed of light - not all communications go so smooth.

Over the years I have come up with some interesting and helpful guidelines to allow you people to communicate better in the information age.

• Any man playing grabass or fightin' in the building spends a night in the box.
• Text messaging is for short memos and instructions primarily. Things like addresses/directions, contact info, start times and the like. Complex relationship type questions require at least a phone conversation.
• Breaking up with someone over IM is a recipe for burning a potential bridge at best, cultivating a psycho at worst.
• If you happen to meet someone through a social network (Friendster, MySpace, Facebook, etc) - make sure, if you like that person, to give them access to more reliable avenues of communication like your email address and/or cell phone. Don't put your new found friendship at the mercy of some guy named Tom.
• If you plan to leave a social network completely, at least let the people you communicate with know before hand. Else you will get a lot of phone calls (see point above).
• Let your online habits be known. If someone wants to chat with you, don't lie and say you are free when you are really doing your laundry, watching 24, talking to a real girl on the phone, and getting drunk at the same time.
• Answer emails/texts/voicemail within 24 hours if at all possible.
• With the exception of emergencies or pressing issues - real people come first. Always avoid answering text messages at dinner or on dates. Especially avoid returning non-pressing phone calls.
• The Swingers rule of when to call girls after dates does not apply to text messaging.
• The communications hierarcy from least to greatest is as follows - text, Facebook/MySpace message, email, voicemail, home phone call, cell phone call, face-to face meeting, and lastly "fingers do the talking."

If you have any other questions about online communications, come to me. I'm Coletrain, the Abbott of TFTDS. I am always here to help. Any one who doesn't learn to communicate better after today spends a night.... in the box.

Happy Valentine's Day - Especially in NYC

I will meet you on the East-West MARTA babygirl!

To all the ladies who read my blog, Happy Valentine's Day. I may call you a nasty slut to your face, but rest assured I call you a sweet darling angel behind your back.

To all the guys, you are better off getting your girl drunk for VD. Nuff said.

To all, enjoy the day meant for romance, while it lasts. St. Valentine's apocryphal story of arranging marriages and sending love notes to his jail's daughter before his execution was meant to instill Feb. 14 with a significance surrounding romance and love in marriage. Of course, NYC is all about the deed. For VD, Mayor Bloomberg's health department is handing out free condoms (5th and 50th - still time!) to the citizens of Manhattan. And just for the occasion, the condoms are subway themed - with a different color scheme to match each subway line. Awwww....

No word on a similar program in Atlanta - although I did have a woman ask me if I was willing to ride the MARTA subway with her one night and hook up. Personally, if it is not road head, I'd rather fly.

The Great Football Idea - Post Mortem

Looks like the clothes are staying on till next season. Riigght...

No one thought it would ever happen. And they were right. For the completely wrong reasons.

If you remember, my friends and I at an ATL bar came up with a harebrained scheme early last year to recruit girls from bars and the internet to serve as hostesses for our football parties in the fall. In the early going the theory was that the recruiting would be the toughest part, but once the girls are in place... everything would be cake. In the worst case scenario, we would be shot down and gets some great laughs (and even segue into something better), and the best case scenario would be success. Never before have I seen so many guys afraid in the face of success.

The MySpace Group page took off... and there were enough girls who looked like they might actually do this thing. (We were only looking for a max of six. ) Same thing with the Craigslist.org stuff, Yahoo! Personals, and Meet Me @ Hot or Not sites. And that's when we started hitting snags. One guy, who had a big screen, took his condo out of the running for possible sites for the party. Another, his girlfriend had moved in and nixed his place as well. My water heater exploded from too much pressure from a water main and flooded most of my 1st floor. (Insurance didn't cover the damage, so I got raped as well as denied.) That left only one viable place in town that could support such a party, and thankfully he was still in - for the time being.

Thankfully, it was Dennis' idea in the first place to organize all this - so things were cool. That is until Dennis uncovered the phenomenon that is internet dating (just like Columbus discovered America... it was always there). Not only did he find girls who were willing to take their tops off just because we said so, the ones that weren't willing wanted to date him! So then we go from discussions of how many girls are on board to which girl called for phone sex. Others he met for actual dates - in addition to the MySpace girls we met out to discuss the proposition. Eventually this activity got out among his female friends - who then went on a hunt to find him a real girlfriend.

This particular move led to an interesting situation. While all this was going on, I was seeing a girl I met at a wine bar in Smyrna. She was a bit older and a recently divorced single mother - but I am a sucker for redheads. She also taught at the local college, so being able to discuss Style Guides and sex at the same time was kinda cool. Guess what pretty redhead English professor with cute glasses was talking to Dennis about the topless thing. Yeah, figures. I knew something was up when I sent her an email and hadn't heard back in a couple days - and then Dennis mentions the redhead on the Meet Me page. I go to verify, and then call her from Dennis' phone. Klassi. Apparently she wasn't serious about Dennis persay, but she wanted to play the field, after all she was recently divourced. This whole enterprise was starting to get weird.

While all this was going on, I was in and out of town for work, fencing, volunteer events, and other things - while other male members of the team were out when I was in town. So even if every man was on board - there were only 4-5 weekends in the regular season were we could assemble a full team (or even have the guys outnumber the topless girls). Finally, as bowl season (and our last chance) approached, I heard this line and many variations.

I gotta be honest. I was all for this whole deal when I knew there was no way in hell it would come together. Now that I know that it is going to happen, I am really scared. I do have a girlfriend after all.

After that bold/sissy statement, that was the end. Dennis put title (no land) on his girlfriend, Jake put both land and title (a ring) on his new fiance's finger, and I hooked up with some random for a couple days.

Once I get my floors replaced (sometime late winter/early spring), I may poll some of my younger less attached friends. After all, there is still interest on the women's side.

Ice-T, Quagmire, and Coletrain

People often ask me for relationship advice. Not because I am a Don Juan - more like I am a cross between Ice-T and Glen Quagmire. I have an easy going nature with people, and they want me understand them - to get them. Which is how I have long conversations with an ex-con who bangs married nurses two at a time, or a 50-year old woman who had an impromptu orgy with her moving crew. Both of these people are both crazy and wrong - but my style is to hear them out before I run away. People like this and on the less extreme end of society color my interpretation on how relationships work. Here is a working top ten.

1. Only date people you find physically attractive, and who feel the same way about you. You may call me superficial - but unless you are blind, the eyes are the windows to your mind and soul.

2. Be honest. Lies never travel alone. If you start lying to someone you are with, it will make it that much harder to tell the truth. Also, even tiny white lies build mistrust.

3. Don't ever blow your partner off. If there is a change of plans, own up to it, call yourself a bastard for not planning better - but don't be dismissive or lie about not being able to make a date or other event. This builds long term resentment, even if everything seems to be ok.

4. The physical stuff matters. In relationships, people want a mind/body connection. It doesn't have to be sex - but there must be an understanding of expectations. A horny bastard and a principled virgin aren't going to last long. At the same time, its not cool for a guy/girl to hold out until the third date or some arbitrary time if the feeling is there right away. Sex changes relationships, but using it for a prize or dangling it on a string changes your partner's assessment of your character - and that's worse.

5. At least until marriage, don't be a part of the problem. This is a golden rule of dating. As George Black said to his son Conrad, "Life is hell. Most people are bastards, and everything is bullshit." You are meant to be an escape from that assessment, don't consistently cause problems that your partner has to deal with too. That will force him/her to find someone else to escape to/with.

6. Make an attempt to understand each other. If he fences, read up on the sport. If she is a CIA agent, read the foreign press. Wikipedia is your friend here. It shows you are actually paying attention - and gasp, thinking about your partner when he/she is not around.

7. Don't neglect your friends. Anyone who advises you to hang out less with the people who will stand up at your wedding will smother you. Everyone needs space from time to time. Hanging with your peoples every now and again means the space between you and your partner won't be permanent.

8. Do stuff. Even older couples like to get out every now and again. A good life is full of adventures, big and small. No one likes to be bored, especially women.

9. Don't cheat. It doesn't do anyone any favors - and it will make you feel better if you just break up with the person, and then do the deed.

10. Romantic relationships aren't the same as marriage. They aren't even a subset or related to marriage. Marriage is about uniting families, cultures, finances, building alliances, and providing a haven for children. If this doesn't sound appealing don't get married.

As always, comments are welcome.

Best Years of My Life...

Are either gone, or far in the future.

 

As I approach another birthday this weekend - I think back onto the ones I had in the past.  Of course, the only one's worth remembering are from college.  While having a Sri Lankan girl cook me dinner (for my 23rd birthday) while giving me shit about how much of a bastard I am is fun - it is nothing compared to the party my best friends threw for me on my 21st birthday, or when a group of guys took over a strangers dorm suite and threw a party for me there for my 20th.

 

My last two birthdays in Atlanta simply added to that falling trend.  Funnily enough, 25 and 26 involved me hanging out with a petite Jewish girl (redhead one year, brunette the next) whose goals were to get me drunk and meet other guys.  Somehow both years I ended up in the arms of some blonde I didn't know towards the end of the night.

 

It has always been a secret ambition of mine to be around the same woman two years in a row.  Never happened.  There was no hope of that in college, when relationships were a waste of money.  After college, my career demanded that I travel constantly and move somewhere new every 12 months or so - so no relationship ever got beyond the fun part before I had to break it off. 

 

The funny thing is that here in Atlanta - I notice that most of the guys and girls in the party pics, and in the hot places in town are in their early to mid 30s.  The hottest girl I talked to last weekend said I was so young I could be a baby.  And most of the professional people I know in their mid-20s commute to ATL from Athens.  I really need to get up there.

"I'm Sorry I Have A Boyfriend..." (no comma)

With most of my friends out of town or recovering from last night's shenanigans, I was on my own tonight. Not wanting to watch "Fargo" on DVD on a Saturday night, I went around the corner to Fox and Hounds for a couple pints and to watch the Braves decimate the San Diego Padres. Halfway into the third inning, a cute and perky blonde asks if she can take the stool next to me. I don't mind... but I am pretty engrossed in the game, sitting with my arms crossed questioning the Padre's credibility.

So I sit with Susan, and we end up flirting and getting to know each other throughout the game. Even though I am smiling most of the time, I am leaning against the bar arms akimbo (I love that phrase) so she really has to make an effort to build up physical contact. When she had to leave and I try to close by asking for her number, the fact that she had a boyfriend threw me off. She threw me off even more when she happily gave me her number and invited me to her pool tomorrow after I said I enjoyed hanging with her. She seemed like a cool girl, she was even a Guinness Believer, but I don't want to waste my time.

What got me more than anything was her line, "I'm sorry I have a boyfriend." Most guys are used to the line, "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend" but she seemed genuinely dismayed that she is having such a great time and feels she can't fully enjoy it. I am sure this happens all the time, but I never had a girl articulate her dilemma before. Most girls just don't bother to mention it.

Category:

• Relationships

Helping Rich Cougars and MILFs Find Love

So I am flipping through the TV this morning, looking for something other than Mad TV and Kentucky Derby stuff to watch - and I come across a show that looks a lot like "The Bachelorette." Only, Ivana Trump seems to be in charge, and the object of affection is a very attractive blonde - who is obviously in her 40s. On closer inspection, the men being judged and eliminated looked very well dressed, but younger than me. And I have a bit of a babyface.

Turns out the name of this show is "Ivana Young Man," where Ivana Trump helps rich single older attractive women find love with a wannabe gigilo. Why use the word gigilo? Well one of the finalists was quoted as saying, "I never dated an older woman but money is just another and her money was enticing." Kathy Dahl of Minnesota (ex-wife of KSTP-TV weatherman Dave Dahl) was the first woman to get the Ivana treatment, which she apparently wasn't too thrilled about when Ivana elimidated her favourite competitor late in the game. I tried to find a picture, but the NY Daily News was the only site to come through for me - which is probably a good thing for Ms. Dahl.

Well, I have seen reality shows for almost everything now. Men dating groups of women, women dating groups of men. Parents finding dates for kids, parents dating prospects for kids. Now milfs who don't like the bar scene can find love with Ivana's help. You know, I used to live in Minnesota - and I had my share of milfs there, but none of them were rich. Solidly middle class, but none rich. You should have grabbed me while I was still in town Kathy... I am much better than the douchebags on Ivana's show, plus back then I was way more discreet about this stuff before I started the blog.

Category:

• Sex
• Relationships

Sometimes I Make Good Decisions

I love fencing. Really, I do. But when the girls from Twisted Taco last Thursday (not the married ones) come calling, then it is difficult to stay in bed - alone anyway. Especially when my friends are joking about how they were afraid I was going to mount them in the bar. But alas, I have a four hour drive for a national qualifier on Sunday - and hooking up with a blonde from Houston just isn't worth it. Add to that all my friends are staying in tonight, including a female friend who lives next to the hot Midtown bars - and it is even easier to say no.

Key Quote:

Female Friend: So I got some cubic for my piercings
Coletrain: Got some CZ in the titty... Alright!
FF: That is so dirty... I love it!

Have a great weekend!

EDIT: At 3:37am today I made the drive to the backwoods bumblefuck of the Deep South, also known as Statesboro, GA. By the Grace of God, and my ability to turn down ass I actually placed 6th out of 38 in men's epee - which is good enough to qualify for the National Championships this summer in Atlanta. Sometimes staying in at night is a good thing.

Category:

• Relationships
• Parties

Wow... Time To Change My Game

Most times I take a totally unserious approach to talking to women. For example, if a girl I have zero connection with asks me what I do, I typically tell her I am a lion tamer. Then I back it up with stories of taming ligers in Pine Mountain, GA. Hell, now my new thing saying I am a chupacabra hunter - I figure I can make more shit up as I go along on that one. Which is a good thing because I actually ran into a girl who knew something about lion taming.

Over the last few weeks I learned that Strawberry Fields only works on women under the age of 24. I tried it on a hot 29 y/o Danish pyschology Ph.D student, no good - although she laughed and it did spark some conversation and good natured mocking of me. Almost six months ago I tried it on a decent looking 32 y/o brunette High School chemistry teacher, and got a decent response, but no number or love. That is, until I ran into her last night when she was pretty toasted. And man, did she let me have it - talking about how I am judgmental, and mean, and just wrong for making her feel bad about herself. She even remembered her responses to the questions and said I just verbally attacked her in front of everybody. Which I probably did, but hey - I am building rapporte - it's ok. Now she hates me and all my friends.

In my defense: I may be an asshole, but some people need to get a grip.

Category:

• Relationships

Divas On The Railroad Tracks

There are few concepts better than the Wednesday Night Drinking Club. Once a month hundreds of Atlanta's young and sexy professionals gather at a different bar or small club and "network." Networking of course is the new business speak for getting drunk and trying to pick each other up, or standing around and trying to look cool - the latter not being any kind of networking at all. Last night at Aiko was no different with me meeting up with one of my new co-workers and some friends from out of town. My co-worker, Alexis, looked pretty cute and is either a) a fun loving and great person who will make a welcome addition to my partying crew or b) is going to get me fired and sue me for sexual harrassment. Either scenario will make for a great story. In any case, I got the Atlanta Illustrated guy to take a picture of us. Given my fresh hair cut and general good looks, plus the fact that Alexis looks like the typical Georgia girl, this is my best chance yet to make the website's picture section next week.

While hanging out with Alexis and my boys was a great time, after Alexis left to go home (she still likes getting in early to work... chump), and my boys left because they had an early drive back to Berkeley - I was stuck at Aiko because I still needed to sober up a bit before I left. Plus I wanted to mack on a cute blonde I was checking out before everyone arrived. She was real cute with a petite body, nice chesticles, and almost a diva attitude. I didn't hit on her before because I don't like divas, but after everyone left - my confidence was high, I was feeling lightly toasted, and I could care less whether she liked me or not. This state of being is precisely how you approach any diva, although the alcohol is not entirely necessary.

Women who refer to themselves as divas have a very high opinion of themselves, a much lower relative opinion of everyone else, and an over inflated sense of entitlement. That entitlement piece burns me more than anything, since everything I wanted as a child - a ten-speed bike, a pair of Oakleys, a die-cast Voltron, and a decent computer - I had to buy on my own as an adult. That taught me that sometimes life doesn't hand anything to you - and that you are always happiest when you are living the wishes you had as a child.

Divas, on the other hand, expect people to bow down to their every wish, and they will spit on your head if you do so. This also means they aren't truly happy until someone will kick them in the teeth, and then give them the Heimlich manuevre to cough them up again. That's where I come in, the guy who doesn't offer dinner on the first date, the guy who doesn't buy drinks, yet will drop you off at your apartment the next morning and give you a firm handshake. (I don't recommend offering the handshake instead of a kiss after sex - I thought she was going to throttle me.) This kind of attitude seems almost churlish; but it attracts women from Atlanta, GA to Hollywood, CA. Most famously Britney Spears, Shannon Elizabeth, and Jessica Simpson all married guys who mastered the emotional Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to the mouth. And they are still looking for guys who can give it to them again.

The lesson here is if you are a woman and you want free drinks from a good guy, buy him one first. If you want flowers everyday, act like you don't deserve them. If you want a guy to dote on you from the start - pretend you don't deserve it. Else you might run into trouble. After all, divas are all in danger of attracting primadonnas.

Category:

• Society
• Relationships
• Sex

More Black.White.

I missed Black.White. last week because of work, but I saw the encore showing tonight. Apparently the show is doing well, and R.J Cutler and Ice Cube are receiving a lot of critical acclaim - as well as high ratings for cable TV. Hopefully you are all checking it out.

The second episode portrayed the family continuing on their path towards "passing" for the opposite race. Carmen, the white mother, again ruffles feathers when she assumes black women great each other as "bitch." Of course, that is completely fucked up. Renee, the black mother, is having a hard time understanding that Carmen is just completely ignorant and silly - and not just simply hostile. The episode seemed to focus on racial sensibilities and how the races see each other on a general basis. Again, Brian's white bar has a patron that gives the audience an earfull of crap - but even though the man sounds like a recruiter for the Klan when he talks about how black kids don't respect achievement or achievers in his neighborhood - it brought me back to experiences I had growing up dealing with that issue. Now that's fucked up.

In this episode my favourite character is still Rose, the white daughter, who is damned cute and tries really hard to understand the black kids in her poetry class. You also see she really cares, and gives me a lot of hope that maybe this race thing can be conquered in my lifetime.

The picture above is Brian, the black father, in white face. The dude looks like a NASCAR fan, which probably explains why people talk like hicks around him.

Category:

• Race
• Relationships
• Society

A Date with Emetic...ur, I mean "a medic"

Get out your kleenex, girls; the newest Bachelor and his hand-picked fiancee are through. Their excuse? The same one all the other failed Bachelor couples cited: in order to prevent a leak of the results while the show is airing, the couple are not allowed to see each other. It's really surprising that hot people who are emotionally unstable enough to go on reality TV can't make it work after 4 months apart. Says the woman, "You're in Paris and you're part of this incredible experience, this fantasy world, and then suddenly you come back to Nashville..." Good God. How could any of us have seen this coming?!

I know why people watch this show: morbid fascination, or vicarious desperation. But why do people take part in it? It's important to note that every incarnation of The Bachelor has failed; the only success out of this franchise was The Bachelorette. The reason seems pretty obvious to me: when a man agrees to be one of 25 or so tools vying for one anonymous woman's affections, it's clear he's desperate to settle down; when a man agrees to be taped making out with a dozen hot girls and then arbitrarily picking out the prettiest, he's got other things on his mind.

Which brings me to my Real World theory: hot people are naturally emotionally unstable. Being able to date any chick/guy you want thoroughly destroys your ability to form relationships, making you turn to other things to give you meaning in life (drugs, sex, reality TV, and french fries...mmm freeedom fries). I'd pity them so much if they weren't gettin' it daily. So I don't pity them.

Category:

• Entertainment
• Celebrities
• Relationships

Sexiness vs. Sex

http://www.spectator.co.uk/article.php?id=7421&issue=2006-03-04

The Spectator is hitting a lot of home runs this week. The above linked article by Ariel Levy talks about how sexiness is the new cool, and has nothing to do with sex. Here is a quote.

There is a disconnection between sexiness, or 'hotness', and sex itself. As Paris Hilton told Rolling Stone, 'My boyfriends always tell me I'm not sexual. Sexy, but not sexual.' And any 14-year-old who has downloaded her sex tapes can tell you that Hilton looks excited when she is posing for the camera, bored when she is engaged in actual sex. (In one tape, Hilton took a cellphone call during intercourse.) She is the perfect sexual celebrity for this moment, because our interest is in the appearance of sexiness, not the existence of sexual pleasure.

Exactly. That's why guys like Latina women, they love to hear them scream "Ay Papi!" Nothing like a cheering section. It's amazing how far we have gone down this path. Paris looked ten times hotter in a commerical selling hamburgers for Hardee's than she did in a video where she was completely naked and getting railed. Mmmm, I wonder how she would look selling tacos.

By the way, that is Jenna Jameson and Jenny McCarthy in the picture if you don't recognize them. If this note helped you, then call a coroner... you're heart stopping beating a couple days ago.

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

Successful Relationships - Are You An Everyday Hero?

For the last couple days there has been a debate on a certain blog about the true nature of successful relationships. (Cue in Miss Daisy perking up...) Is it better to settle for what you can get, or should you hold out for what you really want?

Every time I hear of people talking of settling, I remember the horror stories I grew up witnessing at church of family friends being torn apart by people they knew were wrong when they met them. I am not necessarily a believer in love at first sight - but I can identify what is wrong with you as soon as you are in earshot. With 50% of first marriages ending in divource, there ought to be more of a premium put on finding the right person the first time around.

Unfortunately, for most people - settling is the easy way out. You can see yourself with this person, just like you can see yourself continuing to work the job that you hate. Since so many people wait until they fucked up once or twice before they really go after who is right for them - those that get it right the first time are heroes. Here are a few heroes I know.

• My fraternity brother who fulfilled his goal of marrying a Playboy centerfold. She is a great wife AND mother, and a gracious woman in general. (I am NOT including a link)
• My best friend from home who nearly became a priest before finding and marrying a girl who nearly became a nun
• My old campus pastor and his wife who both love God so much, they pray instead of having arguments
• One of the guys I hang with in ATL who married a VERY headstrong, independent, and attractive woman who is still willing to cook when the guys come over to watch the game
• A beautiful co-worker who waited until she was 41 to get married, and found a guy who was perfect for her - and who lived two states away during their first year of matrimony

This is an incomplete list, that doesn't even include my parents who have been married for over 40 years and put four kids through college - while many black families are just getting around to sending through their first. These people inspire me to stay away from committing to anyone unless I know they have a shot of being right for me.

Anyone out there an everyday hero in relationships?

Category:

• Society
• Relationships

Why Do I Even Bother...

I called DutchGirl tonight and finally got a hold of her after a few tries this week. Calling more than once is something I typically don't do. She has finally recovered from her hangover that she still claims is her worst, and then she still says that Dutch girls drink more than Americans. Whatever. Even though she lives in STL, I still wanted to talk to her because I wanted to find out how much of the dating/kids/jealousy/murder-for-hire conversation at Morgan Street Brewery last Saturday was alcohol, and how much was real. Why do I care? To be completely honest, I thought the conversation was kinda hot. The feeling I had about this girl was the same that Jeremy Grey had for Gloria Cleary in the Wedding Crashers. I was so freaked out, I really started to like her like her. This girl was either drunk out of her mind, or completely shit-giggles nuts - and I had to find out, pride and pimp hand be damned.

So I briefly spoke to her tonight and learned some interesting things.

• She does have female Dutch friends, but for some reason they couldn't make it on Saturday. So she didn't just set me up to entertain her male Euro wannabe trash pals. I was pissed, because I felt like I left my fraternity brothers high and dry.
• She is young, and silly - which makes arguing and difficult discussions a waste of time. And while she was drunk for a good part of the night, she was sober when she got pissed at me for dancing with other girls around her and she confronted me with her dating/kids/jealousy/murder-for-hire conversation.

Now part of me wishes I was in STL, while the rest of me just seems bored with the whole thing. Crazy is awesome in person (in person read "when she is hot with a tongue ring") as we are getting to know each other (getting to know each other read "we are fondling each other and making out"), but not over the phone or text message as it were. Plus she seems like a party girl, or rather is a party girl and that is bad news for any man who wants a relationship.

Well, at least now I know. Now I can get back to the man's world of apathy and not giving a shit.

Category:

• Sex
• Relationships

Review of Neil Strauss's "The Game"

I just finished my review of "The Game." It has been one of my most fascinating reads since "Sperm Wars" enlightened me about the study of evolutionary biology. According to Strauss, or Style as he is called, there is an army of nerdy kids on the internet who have back engineered the practices of men who are successful with women and they are teaching it to each other. And they are experiencing that same success.

Plus, this guy does not come off as a player at all, yet he is universally recognized as the best, the strongest of the Jedi. Here is a clip of him and his girlfriend on "The View." Aside from the fact that Star Jones appears like she finally gave birth to an Army platoon, Strauss looks like your normal LA metrosexual - not a guy who bedded hundreds of women in a period of two years and pioneered a foolproof way to get a threesome. However, his book is about the story of men finding their way socially, not just a guide to get laid.

Here is an excerpt from my review:

While the girl that he ends the book with and for whom he forsook all others claimed she loved him for who he was minus his PUA ability – Mr. Strauss claims his two year journey helped him to meet his true self, accept him, and prepared him to present him to the best woman possible. If there is one truth in Mr. Strauss’ work that is worthy of a Biblical presentation: it is that the true nature of the game is to better yourself and be the best you can be, in order to attract the best mate for you – not just chase tail.

My review is posted on the articles page right now. Be sure to pick up the book by clicking on the ad at the left!

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

Never Buy Strange Women Drinks

I hate buying drinks for women. I refuse to cover the bill on the first date. It feels like I am buying a lottery ticket, only worse odds. And the women who demand it sound like whores. It amazes me – in the age of post-feminism and equal rights among the sexes I am expected to shell out money for a woman I just met.

I know the tradition of guys getting looted goes back to classic courtship practice, which dates all the way back to the age of chivalry. The difference is that back then, you were getting a much better deal. In the middle ages serfs weren’t allowed to marry – so courtship was mainly among the nobility and the merchant class. And the women involved in courtship often had hereditary titles, connections, and large tracts of land. They were also supposed to be virgins. So, you do what is necessary to get these women: buy her drinks, write poetry, start wars, kill her dad – because the benefits of success were enormous.

Now fast forward to 20th century America, before the 60’s. (read: before the Moral Majority claimed the country was going straight to hell.) At this stage women in general were considered the modern equivalent of Vesta: guardian of home, hearth, and virtue. As little girls women were taught to cook, clean, entertain, and preserve their chastity against a man’s wily advances. Their inspiration was King Lemuel of the Proverbs who lamented, “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.” A woman like this is worth every effort to get – because this is the woman who will run your house, keep you sane, keep your sons out of jail, and your daughters off the pole. Hell, I would buy one of these ladies a drink today just for being themselves.

Bring it home to the 21st century, specifically last night. I am out with a girl who I met at a club after the Diddy party last week, and we are having a good time. We have a lot of insignificant things in common, which makes conversation and rapport quite easy. However she is still messed up over her ex of four years, she freely admits that she cheats on her men, she snorts coke, and she wanted me to pay the tab – after she called her friend to meet up with her once we were done. While I didn’t smack her across the face, my verbal pimp hand was strong. Then she said, “Come on; just cover an extra five bucks – you should pay for the pleasure of my company!” I know I am a sick asshole sometimes, but what the hell does that sound like to you?

Here is the deal – I never give to strange women what I make my friends earn. That’s food, drinks, shots, cuts in line, whatever. In the last 12 months more women have bought me alcohol than the other way around – and those few latter instances generally involved the bonin’. The quickest way to turn me into cheap bastard or Supreme Pimp Coletrain Luthor is to beg for free drinks. But if you are a cool girl and you want to hang out with me – buy me a drink, and at the very least I won’t make fun of you too much.

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

Will the Horror Ever Stop? - Relationships and Technology

Over the last few weeks I have been emailing with a fencer girl I met in Chattanooga about college, life, fencing and what not. Eventually, the conversation turned to relationships - as my friend recently broke up with her boyfriend and is still getting over it. (See, I can be nice. Sometimes.)

The conversation then turned to the fact that she has a blog publicizing the genesis and the ending of the relationship (all within two posts), and then I wondered - how many women have I dated have websites and blogs and whatnot? Turns out quite a few, and growing everyday. Some are funny and cute and have nothing to do with me, and others are subtle and not so subtle stabs describing and showing what I am missing. A perfect example is here, the blog of a girl I saw briefly in Minneapolis. (BTW, the Yoda picture is a tattoo covering her entire back, no joke.) Somehow, when I was dating her - she just did not seem that horny. Maybe I was missing something, but damn. She was a little nuts so I was glad to be rid of her, but damn...

Then I thought - what are the implications of someone with whom you were initimate having a forum?

• Would they mention you? Praise or berate? Mention in passing in favour of someone else?
• Or would they scratch your name from their online record like the ancient Egyptians defaced the names of Akhenaten and Hatshepsut from the oblisks?
• Would they post pictures of themselves in their photo albums and dating services with you cropped out? Or would they leave you in and not tell you?
• What if you have a website too? Would they get more traffic than you?
• Would they use their website to build an empire of internet stardom on the ashes of your reputation?

Of course, then I remembered - I'm ok. I was awesome with and to every girl that have done anything with, and even when I was a complete asshole, I always did it with a disarming smile. Still, don't believe a word of what any of those women say - they are crazy.

Category:

• Relationships
• Technology

Show Me Some Love Bitches! Yes sir!

EDIT: Merry Christmas, from your friends at Coletrain.org. Click here for your holiday treat!

After last night, I thought I was done for going out. But then I realized that it is Christmastime in the city, and I was home alone. Therefore, it was time to go out. I had dinner at Fox and Hounds - and watched the Atlanta Hawks beat a stunned Sixers team. After that, I went to Twisted Taco - a small bar with a tiny dance floor that plays lots of 80s music and piles as many hot women into the place as it can fit.

Once I arrived, I resigned myself to drinking black and tans and going home early. That is until a young man who needed training approached me. This guy was in his early thirties, white, and made a lot of money. Yet, he seemed a bit lost among the hotties available. I felt the spirit of Mr. Miyagi enter me, and I knew that I had to teach this man how to pull women.

After we hung out for a bit, and my ADA friend BAILED ON ME - I had him try some simple exercises, like hit on a girl whose friend was already into me. He did ok, but no hooks on the line. Then I dropped some theory on him, but I was wondering if it was all in vain. That was until he spotted a really cute asian girl and white redhead by the bar. Seeing that these girls were ripe, I used a pretty tired line that was self-deprecating, elevated my new friend - and was pretty funny too.

Turns out the redhead is celebrating her birthday at the Twisted Taco, and her asian friend is showing her a good time. Like I care. However, one line got my attention more than any others, "I want to find some guys to buy my friend shots, because I can't afford to get her really drunk." Wow. That line impressed me for two reasons - first, it is really sweet - and contrary to popular belief I love sweet girls. Two, it smacks of desperation - and few things are more sexy than desperation. Typically, I never buy strange girls drinks, especially when it is unnecessary - but this seemed to be a "pay to play" scenario, and that I can role with. Especially if I choose the drink - Goldschlager all the way.

Rather than go into details - lets just say my apprentice and I will see these girls again. The funny part was the aftermath. After the girls left, I made fun of a random brunnette who took it upon herself to throw shit at me as I was laying down some game for the redhead. Her blonde friend then called me out - saying where were my girls now? It's true I didn't round the bases in one night, but so what - it is friggin Christmas. I retorted that I couldn't argue with a pro who had years and years of experience of going home with random guys from the bar. That scandalized her a bit, but she wouldn't shut up. Which is a good thing because then she blurted out, "that redhead you were with wasn't even that cute!" Ok bitch, now you are officially jealous.

In my defense, the redhead was cute as a button - but she wasn't stacked - but who cares, everything else was pristine. The blonde was sorta hot, except for the fact that she was accosting me. After her boyfriend calmed her down, I left and went to Waffle House so I could have some food and sober up. Guess who I see as I am paying my bill? The Time-Traveling Bitch Haters of Northwest Atlanta! The blonde, the brunette, and a couple of random girls walked into the WH near my place and restarted their tirade. I honestly don't remember when not taking a girl home from the bar was a mark of shame - and I am sure the girls reading this who I have hooked up with agree with me. Good grief, tomorrow - today is fucking Christmas Eve. Rather than ignore them, I smiled, took a bow, and said that I would be open for hot blondes next week... which was answered with awed silence. Who's the man.

Women are crazy aren't they? But boy, are they more fun than a Starcraft LAN party.

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

She's a Whore! Denny Crane!

When I don't go out on Saturday night (read: when I don't get home from Friday night until 3pm on Saturday afternoon), I love watching "Cheaters." "Cheaters" is a WB show created by Bobby Goldstein, a former Dallas divource attorney who realized that there was much unintentional comedy when someone cheats on their spouse. Of course, this comedy turned to tragedy for Goldstein and hilarity for the rest of us when his second wife was caught cheating on him AFTER he started the show. It is no shock that he vowed never to remarry.

The basic premise of the show is that a man or woman is convinced his partner is cheating, and goes to Cheaters for help. Cheaters then assembles a private investigator team equiped with cameras and other cool surveillence gear and follows the suspected cheater around town until they find enough juicy dirt to confirm the cheating. After such data is analyzed and what not, Joey Greco then shows the edited video to the wronged party and there is the predictable anger and sadness once the cheating has been confirmed - usually through video of kissing, holding hands, sound of cheatee on phone in presence of the other woman/man, and trips to the store that the cheater would never make with the one he is supposed to be with.

After the truth is in the open, there is the crucial commercial break. This break is important so the viewer can pop some popcorn, grab a beer, and use the restroom to be ready for what is next: THE CONFRONTATION.

This part of the show is like Jerry Springer - only real. After Joey has consoled the victim, he radios for the current location of the cheater and his paramour! And then he very soothingly tells her or him, your spouse is currently with his lover and we can be there in a few minutes. Would you like to confront him? Of course the answer is always yes. So then they load up in a van with tons of cameramen, bright lights, oom mikes, and extra PIs for security. And then they role up on the couple in the act, with plenty of bystanders around and no escape. Sometimes it is at a restaurant, sometimes the confrontation is at the lover's home and he/she/both are naked - but it is always insane and there is plenty of screaming. Joey Greco, calm as lake, asks the cheater why he/she did what they did, but rarely do you get a good answer.

My personal favourite is the confrontation at the barber shop where a woman confronts her boyfriend. After the intial screaming, she yells at some bystanders "Where's the bitch!" And the bystanders immediately point to the woman trying to make a getaway out the back.

In addition to Joey Greco getting stabbed during one of these confrontations, one of the more hilarious episodes dealt with an estranged husband confronting his wife as SHE WAS BANGING A POLICE CAPTAIN IN AN UNMARKED CITY VEHICLE! Not surprisingly, the wife claimed assault against the Cheaters crew for trying to keep her on camera. Sounds like the police captain was trying to stick it to Greco for sabotaging his career. Getting caught in your skivvies on national television can't help anyone - unless your last name happens to be Clinton. ("Gotta bill in my mouth like I'm Hillary Rodham!" Yeah bitches.) So, who is Bobby gonna hire to defend him and the show? Denny Crane!

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

Don't Be Stingy - A Guide to Group Game

After a few drinks with a reasonably attractive co-worker and conversations with a charter member of "Guys Next Door," I realized it was time to update the continuing discussion of game.

In our conversations, my boy, BlueHat, and I realized that there are too many instances when we let survival of the fittest or "dibs" decide who gets to hit on a girl. And of course, every time these methods fail. The most graphic example was when BlueHat, another friend, and I were partying in Ibiza. My friend wanted the blonde hottie and the leader. I wanted the shorter blonde who I could pick up with one hand. BlueHat was happy to take the brunette with tig ol' bitties. As the course of the night at the club went on - Tiggo wanted me, Hottie wanted BlueHat, and ShortStop wanted my buddy. The obvious lesson was that we can't determine who a girl ultimately wants. The less obvious lesson was that you want to keep all three girls engaged by EVERYONE so that they would only choose between the three guys engaging them and not someone outside the group.

While this less obvious lesson was subconsciously heeded in Ibiza, it is ignored elsewhere. No one, guy or girl wants to be surrounded by desperate women of the opposite sex. Hell, the guy in the Tag commercials runs when being chased by a horde of horny women in the supermarket. Even more so for guys who either chase women down in a pack, fight over a single girl, or the guy who calls "dibs" closes the girl off away from her friends and his friends as well. What does this behaviour show at the outset? It shows a bit of desperation, lack of self-confidence, and little concern for a girl who simply wants to have a good time.

The best way to handle a situation where you have a possible eligible receiver is to integrate the person into the group - and let the group members try their hand at landing the person for the night. When you operate in this fashion - everyone has an interest in making sure the people so corralled have a good time. If the girl is ready to go, instead of you awkwardly trying to convince her to stay out, you now have the entire group convincing her that she will have a great time if she postpones bedtime a few more hours. Your statistically doomed effort to land this girl has become a team priority - and you won't lose face if someone else in the group gets the girl instead of you. Rather, you just become the magic man who provides for his friends. Then again, the initiative to bring her to the group gives you the upper hand, so you will win out most of the time anyway. Now, you just have help to move the process along. Everytime you close out your friends to isolate a girl (before she has made it known she wants that to happen) you cause fear and anxiety, and doom yourself to failure. If you can name one time you had success by closing out the girl from your friends before she was ready and actually banging her - I will send you a cookie. (Seriously, send story and mailing address to admin@coletrain.org)

So even in game and dealing with the opposite sex, can't we all just get along?

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships

Onion AV Club Compares Seduction Masters

http://avclub.com/content/node/42197

This is a great article on what techniques work with meeting women. I love the fact that this review was written by a woman as well, so it does have some shadow of crediblity. Surprisingly, I have used a couple of the techniques mentioned here without even putting a name to them - specifically the ideas of a grab bag and Peacock theory. In fact here are some of the things I have worn that would fit into that construct, with some success:

- Yellow Cheerios t-shirt with cheerio over the "i" in relief
- Chain over my tie and purple shirt at a wedding
- Extra shiny green Brooks Brothers polo
- The monk costume for Halloween with bright beads
- Oversized navy blue jersey with TKE in HUGE letters down the side
- Plastic Three Olives necklace with red blinking light - Blinkage!

Basically things that look so silly, they are cool.

One technique that surely is in the book, but not in the article is the Strawberry story. The purpose of this story is to get a girl to tell you pretty plainly what her intentions are, without coming off as a slut or completely uninterested - depending on her thoughts. Basically it is an extended analogy that you walk the girl through - and every piece of it has a specific interpretation. Here is an example that I experienced this week of the story (excerpted from my journal).

----------------------------

I am on a date at Starbucks with a cute girl and we are sitting on couches with a coffee table in between. The girl seems enthusiastic, but shy. I am tired and I want to see where this evening is going before I committ to waking up or calling it a night...

Coletrain: "Ok, close your eyes. You are in a field. Up ahead you see a strawberry field. There is a fence around it. How high is it?"

Girl: "About this high," she says as she raises her hand about 2.5 feet off the ground.

Coletrain: "Ok. So you climb over the fence. How many strawberries do you eat?"

Girl: "I eat as many as I can!" We've lot a live one here!

Coletrain: "Ok, now what do you think about the strawberry farmer?"

Girl: "I think he is generous for letting me eat all these strawberries!"

Coletrain: "Well, he isn't there, he doesn't know you are eating them."

Girl: "...Oh, fuck him then." Ouch.

---------------------

After hearing this, my eyes got big and I was wide awake. When you analyze the story, the height of the fence represents how easily she hooks up. The number of strawberries lets you know how many girlfriends/boyfriends she wants. How she feels about the strawberry farmer lets you know how she feels about the people with whom she hooks up.

I really need to find a nice girl.

Category:

• Sex
• Society
• Relationships