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?? Continue reading
Constant Confessions 