So I have a new favorite blog, it’s from a PUA. (That’s pick-up artist for those of us who didn’t realize there is a community dedicated to this shiznit!) First of all, this guy spends a fortune clubbing! He could feed my kids for a week in what he spends on a night out. But what really got my attention was the conversation going on in the comments. They were talking about those girls who just use guys to get a few drinks.
Uh-oh, I have been that girl! There’s no shame in my game. I can remember before I was even old enough to drink I was able to get into this little bar in town. I must’ve been about 19, 20 years old. I would go there on Friday nights and sit next to this one old man. Shame on me, I can’t remember his name. I’d walk up and flash him the biggest smile. Then I’d talk about all the things I’d been doing at work, throw in how I needed some extra money to get my car fixed. He’d steady order me drinks. We’d talk, and I’d be sure to do my best Marilyn Monroe sultry-eyed impression. I appear to be hanging on his every word. Sometimes he’d peel out a few extra twenties and tuck them in my pocket. Gas money!
Here’s the thing every girl knows, or should know. All you gotta do is lean in a little. Stare deeply into his eyes. Smile. Laugh. Brush your hair out of your eyes and let it fall right back and there you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker. You don’t have to be a supermodel, just pass out a few ego strokes and he’ll be wrapped around your finger. This was my Friday night magic for months. I’d go in that bar around 8 or 9, and by 11 he’d been giving me directions to his apartment, so I could come by and say hello to him sometime that next week. He always offered to pay me some extra money if I’d do the dishes or run the vacuum. I kind of got the feeling he was hoping I would sit on his lap and call him Daddy. Unfortunately I kept losing those darned directions. I don’t know how that happened??
By about 11, I would be pretty well buzzed and he was old, so surely it was his bedtime. I’d make my excuses, give a little hug to hold him over, and then my girls and I would hit the real clubs. The ones that were just getting started.
That was the routine, and it never failed. In fact, I can remember my much hotter sister being pissed off a time or two because once we hit the real clubs, there was always a man in line to take me home. I honestly think the reason I got more men than she did is because I smiled. That’s it… But I never went home with these guys. I was waiting.
I was waiting for my husband to realize I was the one for him. See, we met when he was still married, and even though she’d left him umpteen times and this time had filed for divorce, he wasn’t sure he’d ever love another. So, when he fell in love with me in a week, he scared the hell out of himself and he kept running. We’d get close, he’d take off. Finally I left, and waited for him to make his final decision.
I knew he’d choose me. I treated him like a king. And my oral skills are pretty much unbeatable. And I loved him, deeply. We had this connection that was completely unexplainable. So even though I had offers, I held out for the day he came running back.
Everyone thought I was crazy, everyone told me to move on, but in the end I was right. He did everything he could to make a life for us. But somewhere down this road he lost his passion for me. He started to see me as the babysitter, the housekeeper, the accountant. He quit seeing me as his red-hot lover. We got stuck in this rut where he ignored me in all the ways that I really needed him and I started packing on the pounds. I guess that’s what happens when you’re lonely all the time and always fixing mac-n-cheese for the kids. It catches up to your hips.
Then I hit 35, and I said “Oh hell no, I am no going down like this.” I learned the word diet, tortured myself at the Fitness Center, and even though I’m not quite Barbie, I’ve definitely brought sexy back. And I keep proving it to myself.
For example, in this little podunk town there’s not much to do, and sometimes I take my kids to the pawn shop to see what they’ve got in store. Usually we buy used Xbox games for my son.
Only, now the manager thinks I’m the cat’s meow. A year ago, he never noticed me, now I open the door and he says “hello Beautiful!” The games that used to be $9.95 are costing me $5, and all because I caught him staring at my cleavage and instead of slapping him silly, I laughed it off and said “Yep, I’m having a good bra day.” He calls me a tease, and to that I say “girls just want to have fun!”
So the other day I was folding clothes and my son says “Mom, put on that shirt (a white shirt with a deep v neckline) and let’s go to the pawn shop and get a game!” Guess my boy is no dummy!! He caught on to that pretty quickly!! Oopsie. I didn’t exactly think my child noticed me using cleavage to my advantage, but I guess he better realize that sometimes girl’s use their goodies to get the goods! He’s headed to high school, and I’d hate to see him get suckered into buying some cheerleader an ice cream every day at lunch.
By the way, did you know that pick-up artists have some rule against buying girls drinks? So ladies, if you’re at the bar, and he’s not paying, he thinks that’s gonna land him in your pants. Run, run fast! Stick to the old men with loose wallets, at least for the first half of your evening!! I’d love to see a PUA get one over on me. It’s too bad I’m married, because this whole idea of chasing down the hook-ups is a little bit entertaining. Guess for now I will have to settle for living vicariously through a few blogs and maybe, just maybe, I can convince my husband to get naked with me!