Post by K527 on Jan 2, 2020 6:07:35 GMT
(follows from my Tinder date with the teacher, see Tinder Dates thread in Journals fro more information)
The date I just had was nice...but I didn’t managed to close the lay. I had a room already paid for, a full night ahead and absolutely no idea where to go.
It was time to sarge!
Walking around the city proved to be pretty useless, almost nobody around because of the cold (remember that if for some reason you happen to be in Italy in winter), and even the restaurants were all almost empty. Except one, an American-bar themed places called The Yankees. I went in, and given the fact I was alone I took a place on a stool nearby the counter, so I could warm up a bit by chatting to the owner and the hired guns. I hadn’t any kind of routines in mind for the situation, so I simply talked with them making some funny comments and asking about some places nearby where to have fun.
I kept also myself occupied by giving advice to a possible future wing ( interested, skeptical, willingly AFC that I hope to present here one day), and “keeping warm” the previous days dates, as well as chatting a bit with a couple of girls that I refused when in a relationship and suddenly came back at the attack when they discovered I was a single again. Being both of them far from my place, I wanted to be sure that when I’ll be there I’m staying at their place and they have already a vague idea about how it is gonna end - but I’ll write later about them. I was out chatting on my phone and smoking a cig, I came back to the counter to finish the beer, just to find something unusual under the glass.
A napkin was put under it, with “xoxo” two red lipstick marks and a phone number. I felt flattered and amused, this cute thing hasn’t happen in a while, it brought me back in time to my teenage years, when I had no idea about how the world was and used to believe in cute and innocent things. I promptly pushed aside those thoughts and checked on WhatsApp who’s this number was, and with my disappointment I found was not of the cute blonde skinny bartender, but of a girl I almost didn’t noticed in the crowd, too plumpy for my tastes. Amen, next location.
I went into the only place that was supposed to be lively in the area on a Saturday night, a weird club inside a circus tent, famous for its tequilas and loud music. I went in early in order to scout the place and befriend the staff (as soon as I told them I used to be a bouncer they relaxed a lot more); I suggest you to to the same in every club if you have the chance: allows you to be seen by the nearby sets as the friendly and “well connected” one in the club, as well as the obvious fact that friendly staff means better drinks, chatting with the hired guns, and lower chances to be mistakenly kicked out by the bouncers. After that, people were starting to get in, and I locked myself in seating on a stool, back at the bar, and looking relaxed around. The first girls started to come in, some of them giving all the passive IOIs I could ask: proximity, accidental touching, looks, talking to their friends and smiling at me, giggling, etc. I didn’t move a muscle.
Fuck. Approach anxiety crawled like a slime on my back, freezing me in place. I couldn’t move, or approach any of the girls in front of me. I had no idea what was happening to me, I just knew that I had to do something our my window would close. My thoughts couldn’t reach my motion circuits, and I stood there still while the girls went t smiling somewhere else. Shit.
When they went away I took a breath and went to the other bar, ordered something very girly with an orange color, something sweet and a shit ton of tequila in it. Chugged it down while remembering all the A1-A3 material I used to do, turned my back and went deep into the club, looking for preys, their bodies warming up in the dance floor, their silhouettes vaguely defined by the strobing purple lights and the green laser beams cutting through the crowd.
A few paces in, I crossed the look of a tall, nice brunette, who smiled at me an reached toward
L. : “Hey, what are you doing here? Closing some contracts in the disco?”
Who was she? Where have I seen her?
Then I remembered, weeks ago in an local entrepreneur meeting, while I involuntarily heavily negged her by the fact the the all-miss-popular-wine-girl that presented us some high-end wines forgot her visit cards at home. I gave her mine for future business, and she wrote me on whatsapp the same night sending me a pic of the visit card and asking when to meet to talk business. I was in a relationship at the time, so I let her be
K: “Hell no, I’m chilling, I need fun and relax after work. You should try that too, thinking always about work makes you age faster. And who’s your friend here?”
L: *giggles* “She’s one of the top Italian influencers in my line of business, and..”
She qualified and presented her friend, a stunning athletic brunette well in her 40s, but hotter than most of the 20s girls in the club. In her prime would have been a HB8.5/9, but unfortunately was not my type, so I opted to be nice to her while aiming at her younger friend L.
The conversation went on by the book.
At this time a strange thing happened. While talking again on the dance floor, I saw the target’s friend give a quick look at us from the back of the target, take out her phone and taking a few steps away, leaving us alone in the crows. Kino escalation started slow, then took a quick turn hole dancing and holding together. It was starting to be on...
...but unfortunately the friend came back, saying that it was time for them to go (she was driving the target around), being also something around 2am. I took the lead out of the club, they happily followed and we parted ways smiling. The friends seemed happy to have met me, all the body language pointed out in that direction, but she’s also a seller with 20+ years in the market, so it was hard to tell truth from technique. The target seemed happy too, she kissed my cheek, and while leaving, she said:
L.: “ When you’ll come back from Brighton, call me, so we can arrange that wine tasting we talked about in my cellar”
I would happily taste more.
The date I just had was nice...but I didn’t managed to close the lay. I had a room already paid for, a full night ahead and absolutely no idea where to go.
It was time to sarge!
Walking around the city proved to be pretty useless, almost nobody around because of the cold (remember that if for some reason you happen to be in Italy in winter), and even the restaurants were all almost empty. Except one, an American-bar themed places called The Yankees. I went in, and given the fact I was alone I took a place on a stool nearby the counter, so I could warm up a bit by chatting to the owner and the hired guns. I hadn’t any kind of routines in mind for the situation, so I simply talked with them making some funny comments and asking about some places nearby where to have fun.
I kept also myself occupied by giving advice to a possible future wing ( interested, skeptical, willingly AFC that I hope to present here one day), and “keeping warm” the previous days dates, as well as chatting a bit with a couple of girls that I refused when in a relationship and suddenly came back at the attack when they discovered I was a single again. Being both of them far from my place, I wanted to be sure that when I’ll be there I’m staying at their place and they have already a vague idea about how it is gonna end - but I’ll write later about them. I was out chatting on my phone and smoking a cig, I came back to the counter to finish the beer, just to find something unusual under the glass.
A napkin was put under it, with “xoxo” two red lipstick marks and a phone number. I felt flattered and amused, this cute thing hasn’t happen in a while, it brought me back in time to my teenage years, when I had no idea about how the world was and used to believe in cute and innocent things. I promptly pushed aside those thoughts and checked on WhatsApp who’s this number was, and with my disappointment I found was not of the cute blonde skinny bartender, but of a girl I almost didn’t noticed in the crowd, too plumpy for my tastes. Amen, next location.
I went into the only place that was supposed to be lively in the area on a Saturday night, a weird club inside a circus tent, famous for its tequilas and loud music. I went in early in order to scout the place and befriend the staff (as soon as I told them I used to be a bouncer they relaxed a lot more); I suggest you to to the same in every club if you have the chance: allows you to be seen by the nearby sets as the friendly and “well connected” one in the club, as well as the obvious fact that friendly staff means better drinks, chatting with the hired guns, and lower chances to be mistakenly kicked out by the bouncers. After that, people were starting to get in, and I locked myself in seating on a stool, back at the bar, and looking relaxed around. The first girls started to come in, some of them giving all the passive IOIs I could ask: proximity, accidental touching, looks, talking to their friends and smiling at me, giggling, etc. I didn’t move a muscle.
Fuck. Approach anxiety crawled like a slime on my back, freezing me in place. I couldn’t move, or approach any of the girls in front of me. I had no idea what was happening to me, I just knew that I had to do something our my window would close. My thoughts couldn’t reach my motion circuits, and I stood there still while the girls went t smiling somewhere else. Shit.
When they went away I took a breath and went to the other bar, ordered something very girly with an orange color, something sweet and a shit ton of tequila in it. Chugged it down while remembering all the A1-A3 material I used to do, turned my back and went deep into the club, looking for preys, their bodies warming up in the dance floor, their silhouettes vaguely defined by the strobing purple lights and the green laser beams cutting through the crowd.
A few paces in, I crossed the look of a tall, nice brunette, who smiled at me an reached toward
L. : “Hey, what are you doing here? Closing some contracts in the disco?”
Who was she? Where have I seen her?
Then I remembered, weeks ago in an local entrepreneur meeting, while I involuntarily heavily negged her by the fact the the all-miss-popular-wine-girl that presented us some high-end wines forgot her visit cards at home. I gave her mine for future business, and she wrote me on whatsapp the same night sending me a pic of the visit card and asking when to meet to talk business. I was in a relationship at the time, so I let her be
K: “Hell no, I’m chilling, I need fun and relax after work. You should try that too, thinking always about work makes you age faster. And who’s your friend here?”
L: *giggles* “She’s one of the top Italian influencers in my line of business, and..”
She qualified and presented her friend, a stunning athletic brunette well in her 40s, but hotter than most of the 20s girls in the club. In her prime would have been a HB8.5/9, but unfortunately was not my type, so I opted to be nice to her while aiming at her younger friend L.
The conversation went on by the book.
- Routines related to work and ways to approach and close clients, all full of DHV spikes.
Bounce to drinks.
Another DHV story related instead on how I refused a client, very rich but also rude. That to convey that I do not scrape the barrel to make money.
Bounce to smoking area
DHV story, this time about how I got in my line of work, and how that will empower me to live my passions. She jumps in the conversation, DHVs herself, at which point I agree on her: “I’m surprised...at first I didn’t had a great opinion of you, but now you got my attention. Respect.”
Back to the dance floor
At this time a strange thing happened. While talking again on the dance floor, I saw the target’s friend give a quick look at us from the back of the target, take out her phone and taking a few steps away, leaving us alone in the crows. Kino escalation started slow, then took a quick turn hole dancing and holding together. It was starting to be on...
...but unfortunately the friend came back, saying that it was time for them to go (she was driving the target around), being also something around 2am. I took the lead out of the club, they happily followed and we parted ways smiling. The friends seemed happy to have met me, all the body language pointed out in that direction, but she’s also a seller with 20+ years in the market, so it was hard to tell truth from technique. The target seemed happy too, she kissed my cheek, and while leaving, she said:
L.: “ When you’ll come back from Brighton, call me, so we can arrange that wine tasting we talked about in my cellar”
I would happily taste more.