Pick Up Game: Week 2 FR (Delayed Post)
After whats come close to being a month’s delay, I’ve finally posted my FR from the second week of the Pick Up Game. Sorry for the delays, guys…I’m just that lazy.
Day 1: Wawa and Commerce
The Dress Of The Day: My black leather jacket (kinda raggedy), a black tee shirt under it, my hair all fuzzed and slightly poofy, and blue jeans: A very, VERY stereotypical redneck setup.
HBWawa: brunette, between an 8 and a 9
(Partial transcript may be slightly paraphrased)
Me: So, ever have sex in the trash room?
HBWawa: Excuse me?
Me: Well, its just that the compactor might be really comfortable…that or really uncomfortable.
HBWawa: Can I help you with something?
Me: Sure can! I’m an X-PUA, out as part as an ongoing game. You could give me your number, spend some time with me, and just have a good time at work.
Me (again): Or you could have a shitty time, call over the manager, and get me in trouble.
HBWawa: Whats a ‘PUA?’
Me: A Pick Up Artist.
HBWawa: So…you’re a Pick Up Artist
Me: Nope, I’m an X-PUA. I’ve got a girlfriend. I was a PUA once upon a time.
HBWawa: Umm…okay. So…are you hitting on me?
Me: Yes and No.
HBWawa: What?
Me: Yes and No.
HBWawa: Explain? Please?
Me: Well, I’m playing a game with other Pick Up Artists, and with Recovering AFCs. I want your number, and, for personal reference, a smile and a laugh. Or twelve.
HBWawa: Twelve? Why Twelve?
Me: Its as arbitrary as Two. Its very, very important.
HBWawa: The game’s very important?
Me: NO! Not The Game…like I said, I have a girlfriend. Twelve Is Very, Very Important.
HBWawa: But…isn’t it arbitrary?
Me: Exactly!
(HBWawa gets yelled at and goes about work, shaking her head and looking up at me with half amused smiles randomly. 5 minutes later, while she’s cleaning the cappacino machine, I come back towards her)
HBWawa: Do you need me to turn on the cappacino machine for you?
Me: Nope, I could do it myself if I wanted one.
HBWawa: Customers aren’t allowed to do that…
Me: Yeah, which is good, because I’m lazy…and don’t want a cappacino.
HBWawa: Say what?
Me: I’m really just here so that I can get your number. and so far, I’m only up to around eight smiles and five laughs.
HBWawa: Have you actually been counting?
Me: Nope…those numbers just sounded about right. And Five’s a Pretty number…ugly, but pretty.
HBWawa: What?
Me: Five’s a pretty number. and an ugly one.
HBWawa: How?
(This goes on for a good long while…about a half hour of randomness.)
HBWawa (After about two - three minutes apart) (Shoves a piece of sizzli paper in my pocket) You’re amusing…you win. Give me a call sometime?
Me: Nah, probably not. I generally don’t keep the numbers when I’m done with a game.
HBWawa: What? Then why do you get them?
Me: The chase
HBWawa: Well, will I at least see you around?
Me: Yup. I live a few streets away…and work over at 497. Catcha laters!
(I bow, and exit without waiting for a response.)
HBCommerce: Blonde, maybe a 7 or 8, depending on what you like…far too thin for my tastes (almost anorexic-looking)
HBCommerce: Hi, how can I help you today?
Me: By giving me your phone number, and twelve smiles.
HBCommerce: Why Twelve?
Me: Well, I used the number twelve while getting the number from the wawa sales associate about an hour ago, so…I thought, why not?
HBCommerce: What is this?
Me: A game.
HBCommerce: A game?
Me: A game. (nod)
…And I think you can guess where it went from there, for the most of the central fluf stuff. If not, look at the wawa section. This stuff lasted about three minutes, before I tapped out (There was a massive line growing behind me)
Me: Well, time to go.
HBCommerce: Why?
Me: Angry Mob. (gestures behind me)
HBCommerce: Aww…okay.
Me: So, did I win?
(pause) (writing) (hands number)
HBCommerce: Stop in again sometime?
Me: Nah, I bank with wachovia.
(exit, stage left, without having ever made a transaction)
Day 2: McDonalds And Diner
McDonald’s was a no go. The only female was small, and mexican (I’m slightly racist…but only when the object of my racism can’t provide a green card or an ID….its a Jersey disease). So…I waited till dinner, and tried again at the diner.
HBDiner was a 9…possibly a 10 without my own biases. Picture a redhead, with green eyes, full pouting lips, and maybe a C. She had some tattoo work scrolling up her neck from beneath her apron. 20ish.
So…
HBDiner: Welcome to (diner). Tongihts specials are blah blah blah blah freaking blah. Can I start you off with an appatizer?
Me: Well, lets start out with your phone number and a smile, first. Or your phone number and a slap in the face. Either or.
HBDiner: Did you forget your date?
Me: Yes ma’am…forgot her all the way back in california.
HBDiner (cocks her head to one side) Is that where you’re from?
Me: Nope. Born and raised right here in Jersey, with a wee bit of spice from Canada.
HBDiner: I see. Recent trip?
Me: A few months…but..you know…she’s worth it.
HBDiner: Why is it you want my phone number, then?
Me: Oh, just a bet with some pick up artists.
(Follow normal course…this one was slightly quicker to grasp the nature of the game…especially since she had a full hour. Which brings us to̷ 
HBDiner: So, the rules of the game….one of them is complete honesty, isn’t it?
Me; Bingo. Complete honesty, and utter contradiction.
HBDiner: And…what’s the target: Sex with me?
Me: Nope, just a phone number. And a personal goal of a few smiles. I think my girl would be kind of upset, if I slept with you and she wasn’t on the other side of the bed.
HBDiner: She’s okay with you cheating?
Me: Hell no! …Just threeways….
(We talked about relationships for a while, and her lack of a boyfriend…then we talked about sex…and she asked how she looked…so I rated her…and got a mock “Not a ten? How dare you” type response.)
In the end, I got her number…but this one had a lot less sexual tension, and unfortunately, the early part of the conversation led to me LJBFing her. So…I got the number, but…I don’t think it really counts, because there was no sexual tension, and no source of hunting…she was easygoing and open, and apparently only in the area on spring break, so had no illusions of lasting knowledge. With the others, there was a much tougher time getting trust, which is my general goal.
Day 3: Wachovia and Police Department
The only girl that rated an HB 6 or higher was a familiar face, who knows me by name already…declined opening, calling it no contest in number getting (plus…I didn’t want to encourage her more than my normal visits do).
POLICE DEPARTMENT AVAILABLE ONLY TO MY BLOG READERS!
Long story short: I opened a 30 year old police woman. Maybe a 5 or a 6. She knew me from my job at wawa. Umm…yeah. She’s a MARRIED policewoman. Who didn’t take very kindly to being opened…or to my honest rating of her…or to my doing it at her place of work. So…this was my big bombing of the week’s game. She was good natured about most of it, after the fact, but during…well, lets just say I was threatened with lock up, if I didn’t stop pursuing the subject.
This is your host, Lodinkinni, and this has been another Report from the Fields for Social Falsification: Tales from the Liar’s Underground.