I want to take you out to dinner. And then I want to go back to my apartment and watch Kung Fu. Do you ever watch Kung Fu?
Prompted by the nice long comment to my last entry, posted by a young man named Josh if I am not mistaken, I have motivation to write again. He seems to have spoken with my sister and she in turn has given an account of one of my attempts to impress women in my more formative years.
From the comment:
"I bought a book for a friend as a Christmas present titled, "The Complete A**Hole's Guide to Picking Up Chicks." I was informed as to how you once purchased a similar "Dummies..." version and sat outside Express, reading the book, waiting to see if it would really work. Now, I know it didn't work; however, I would like very much to read your personal account and your thoughts on such insane literature."
This makes it sound like a failed attempt. Instead this was one of my many moments of pure, unadulterated romantic brilliance, and it in fact worked like a charm.
Here is the story, in all its glory.
Josh Stewart, David Weaver and myself took a trip to the Cary Mall when I was about 16 or 17 years old. At this point I had very little experience with girls. Up until about a year before this point, I was known only as "Josh's Friend" by the girls I liked. Anyway, we took the hour drive from The Sticks of Harnett County to the comparitively booming and bustling metropolis that is Cary, NC to spend an afternoon at The Mall. (Remember: When you grow up in The Sticks, The Mall is a privelage, a Mecca of Capitalism and Human Interaction the likes of which we ruralites did not have the privelage of experiencing every day.) We were pumped about the prospect of an afternoon complete only in its lack of productivity... and its abundance of females.
This is what the mall is, really, when you a16 year old boy. It is an excuse to loiter in an area where girls are known to be. You act like you are shopping, but you have no money. You spend your time browsing both merchandise and "talent," as we oh-so-cooly referred to the ladies. "Lotta talent in the room," or "Now that is one talented young lady." Far be it from us, however, to actually speak to one. No. We observed from afar, like Wild Kingdom cameramen, never coming too to close, never risking the social dismemberment of rejection.
Back to the story. I had colored my hair with bright metallic red (or maybe blue) pomade before we left home. As such I was out of my skin with confidence, so daring and unique and, dare I say, mysterious was I. The three of us were enjoying our obligatory stop in Spencer's Gifts, giggling at all the naughtiness therein. On one of their book racks was a little novelty book title something really simple like "How to Pick up Chicks." The title was written in really big letters right on the cover. The book itself was actually pretty funny. It had very little real advice. It was more of a sardonic look at dating life. It was the title that caught my eye. I hatched a plan so simple, an yet so brilliant that I frightened myself. I discussed it with my cohorts and they concurred: The plan was foolproof. Now who had the balls to do it?
Ten minutes later I approached a table of young ladies at the food court, Josh and David close behind. I stood in front of the nearest girl and held the book open in front of me, with the title in view of the whole table, to make it clear I was reading the book "How to Pick up Chicks." The book was open to a random page, but I prentended read from it as follows:
(Looking at the pages of the book reading very slowly.)
"H-Hello."
(Look to her anxiously for reaction, then back to the book.)
"My name is Your Na-- (frustrated grimace) My name is David."
(Back to her for reaction, back to book.)
"You are ve-ry pret-ty."
(To her for reaction, back to book.)
"I was wond-er-ing if you would like to hang out some-time."
(back to her for reaction...give hopeful, desperate, longing, wide-eyed expression... wait for it.... waaait for iiit... now give her a niiiice smile.)
She smiled back. So did the rest of the table. I let the book fall in my left hand and offered my right as I introduced myself, for real this time. Josh and David moved in from behind me to introduce themselves. We were invited to sit. I someone at this point had asked me if I was the Lord of All Creation, I probably would have told them that I was indeed.
We talked for a while, got every last phone number at the table and left the mall floating three inches above the ground. We never called them, and I don't really know why. I guess that wasn't really the point. The point was that we were so, so smooth.
I know what you must be thinking: If I ruled that hard when I was sixteen, my powers must be nothing short of scary by now. Well, you would be right. I am rivaled in cool-osity only by the one and only Ryan Dunn.
Man I am awesome.
posted by Bosephus Jamiroquai @ 2:37 PM
3 Comments:
I tried that once but my abundance of Loser Dust was getting all in the air and it just ended badly.
Wow...thats it! You captured and put it into words in a fashion only a Sloan could have. Now for any boy still in those wondrous years it is time to worry for their secrets are out. Completely unspoiled and in its raw natural form...the mind of a dude.
Now that I'm done raving let me just say wow. If that is an honest account, and you truthfully didn't know those girls at all I have to give you mad crazy kudos. That's right up there with punching a bear cub in front of it's mother or running with a huge American flag all the way through Iraq. Very very gutsy. However, I have to wonder. If in that same situation now...would you be so brave? ...
...doubtful...
;-)
Thou dost doubt ME?!? Knave!! Hate to break it to you Josh, but my story is the pure, unvarnished truth. Really. We walked up to dem hos and events transpired exactly as I gave account. We talked em up and got the digits and we bounced, yo. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. No embellishment required. If needs be, I will contact others to corroborate my story.
Post a Comment
<< Home