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It was a good weekend, as weekends go.
There was a girl, this weekend past. The sort of girl who didn’t care what I made or how, encouraged me to toss aside a silly dress shirt in favor of old comfy cotton; a girl with eyes that sparkle in passing streetlamps, a giggle I can’t resist, or perhaps simply don’t want to. We share stories, grinning as we learn of each other.
I kissed her for the first time in Powell’s, against a long row of approving poets, and she tasted of Fall; all autumn spice and sweet crushed leaves. She kissed me against the car, bags falling from my hands to our laughter as their contents became unimportant.
We watched movies, and I stole glances at her, taking in the soft curve of her neck, the break of her hair against her shoulders, the way her slightly crooked smiles bloom across her face. Raven hair makes my fingertips itch to run through it as we kiss, to draw her in. She knows I am no trouble, despite my claims, and she curls into my arms.
Yet, she spooks easily, and there is little time before she returns to her native country. I hope we will have the chance to know each other, to learn the other’s nature, to give things a chance to grow as they will’t.
It lies in the hand of Dame Fortune now, and she has ever favored me with her riches…. we’ll see.
An Irish redhead, a massive fight and gambling priests. What more could you want?
-N. Noctis
(It is fitting, I think, that I christen this with a story of extroversion and dames.)
This past weekend, a motley crew of programmers did descend upon the city proper, with intent to drink, play pool, and… well, mainly drink, actually. In the process of drinking (which went much as you’d expect) and shooting pool (which went atrociously badly, save for one of the company, who did not entirely fail geometry) a few things did occur entirely contrary to expectations and, in fact, normalcy. In those were contained the more interesting bits of the evening, of course.
First off, “Can you just put my portion in the fridge?” is a sure sign that some poor husband will be sleeping on the couch for the next month. Should you ever be near the unfortunate who must utter this line, buy him a beer, as he needs it.
Second, attractive women really do approach squads of geeks. Let me rephrase that. I have seen attractive women approach squads of geeks, and invite them over to their table. (I assert that this had nothing to do with one of our number declaring that some of us were millionaires.) Should you find yourself in this situation, appropriate responses include:
(A) (Simple) Yes, immediately! (Followed by moving)
(B) (Attempted Suavity) Thanks (her name), we’ll be right over. (Followed by moving, with a brief pause to order a round for the table)
(C) (Desperate, but Honest) One second, I have to roll my tongue back up, thank my lucky stars, and take a good stiff drink. (Followed by a drink, and moving)
Note, however, that:
(D) “We’ll be right over”, (then continuing to sit and discuss said female without moving)
Is not only incorrect, it is terminally unintelligent. It should also be stated that, should you take her up on her offer, attempting to make small talk is expected, and spares any chance extroverts in the crowd from having to carry the entirety of the conversation. Besides, banter is an entertaining vessel for all sort of inuenndo, including bawdy suggestions as to what can be done with (or for) the millions, and provocative lies about one’s possessions. As for what prevarications one should apply to the opposite sex, a few basic tenets apply:
1. Don’t make something up that she can call you on. (Obvious, but often overlooked in your zeal to claim status.)
2. Cars are most always a safe bet.
Very few people actively dislike horsepower, and most of those who do, do so for environmental reasons; simply tell them that your Lotus gets 30-odd miles to the gallon. Also, Ford is not sexy, even when you follow Ford with ‘GT’. Corvette, however, completely overwhelms Chevy, transforming it into something worth claiming. You do, however run the risk that she is a gearhead, and will ask you questions you cannot answer.
3. If you claim wealth, have a good story about either how you got it, or what you do (or want to do) with it. Ideally, have both. (This is also a good source of conversation topics, if played properly.)
Other than cars and wealth, you are unlikely to find a safe declaration of badassery; any other arena either has far too much negative potential, or is too easily disproven. If you are seeking something long-term, remember, you will either have to pawn these falsehoods of as ‘charming, alcohol-fueled misstatements’, or actually find some way to back them.
It is also in the first phase of conversation, when no real solid subject matter is established, that some of the more interesting free-association will occur. This is when you get to discover if the lass in question is a geek, biker, raving nymphomaniac with a dirty mouth, midwesterner, robot, or other potentially important criteria. It is at this point that any married men you have along will show their true utility as wingmen, backing you on whatever outrageous claims you happen to make, and occasionally forcing you into additional total BS. This stolid backing will allow you to ask all sorts of questions without doing so directly, and perhaps even allow you to cage a set of contact info or two.
Remember, it’s the first five to ten minutes that set most of their impression. Make it a good one, and above all, be memorable. (At least, it’ll take the load off of us extroverts.)
(Additionally, good whiskey, even watered-down, should never be left undrunk. Yellow-green, fizzy, alcoholic stuff should be left, never drunk.)
-N. Noctis
(This post inspired by Wolf #2 of the “Pigs by day, wolves by night.”)
