How To Pick Up Girls Like Hunter S. Thompson…
We were somewhere around Bristol on the edge of the town, ready to pick up girls, when the fear began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I’m feeling a little woosie here, maybe you should approach first.” He had disappeared, I assumed for a pee, when suddenly I was engulfed by women, hundreds of the creatures, as I stumbled down the high street. White girls, Asian girls, Russian girls (I think). Jesus Christ what am I going to do? There is just too many of them. I had come out tonight to meet women but this was crazy.
I looked at my wingman who had returned from his bathroom break, to see he had put his trilby on to facilitate the attraction process. God damn peacocking. Why did I not think of that? He shouted at me, “Why the hell are you looking petrified?”. I said, “Never mind, its your turn to approach.” No point mentioning all the hot women who had just walked past. Poor bastard would be heart broken.
It was now almost 10.00pm and we had yet to approach women. This is the toughest time. I knew soon our stomachs would be twisted in knots. But no going back now and sure as hell no time to rest. We were here for the long haul. A place called The Greenhouse was our destination for the night, always a good place for meeting women.
We had to do this, we had an obligation to ourselves and each other. Breaking through that first barrier of fear is always the hardest step.
We finally arrived at our destination. First stop was the bar. But no Dutch courage for us. You see drinking water is good for concentration-and for some reason that seemed important at the time. Or were we just procrastinating? No you must avoid dehydration for pick up girls sake.
My wingman saw the hot blonde in the corner well before I did. “Fool!” I exclaimed, “have you forgotten the 3 second rule?” Too late now, or was it? I exclaimed “As your wingman I advise you to go for it.” He proceed to rise from his chair like the Phoenix. Oh my god he’s breaking the rule and going in. I watched in eager anticipation. The art of approaching in full flow.
He sat down a little abruptly but never fear nerves will do that even to the most mighty of men. Recovering well, he proceed to speak slowly and deliberately. For what seemed like a split second as I turned away to quench my thirst he had began whispering in her ear. “Genius!” I roared. Jesus! did I say that or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me? I glanced over at my mentor. He was still whispering away. No one was looking in my direction.
Suddenly we had a code red. A friend joined the party asking her to go to bathroom with her. She was not my type but when I signed on the dotted line to become his wingman, and he mine, I meant it. I leaped into action and removed this nuisance from his path. She was a handful. Someone had been supplying alcohol to this creature. Finally my wingman returned. I was free. He on the other hand had received a kiss and phone number. You maybe thinking, ‘lucky bastard’ but let me tell you, luck had nothing to do with it.
That was only the beginning of what was a surreal but successful night. Maybe i will delve in some other time. But for now its good bye…..
“I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.” – Hunter S.Thompson (July 18, 1937 – February 20, 2005).
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