Ladies and gentlemen, dudes and damsels, tonight we party.
So here we are, at the entrance of the perfect club. Are you ready to pick hot women? Are you ready to pick hot women ladies? Yes, you think it will be fun to see how we pick you up, yes, okay. Let's start. Shall we...
We are at the entrance, pay the tickets. Let's walk in, up the stairs watch the beach.
Nice music, perfect crowd in the club, perfect crowd you are with, so being guy ladies, we take the lead in getting a place to seat.
Did you know picking ladies starts on where we choose to sit? No? Yes...
We sat there, where I had a view of most of the club. That means I could see almost everywhere and everyone, I had the best view. We sat down. I sat down.
"Bartender, black ice, a sprite a plate of fries, tons of ice cubes and a few beautiful ladies to go with that."
"Pardon?"
"black ice, a sprite a plate of fries and tons of ice cubes."
Let the night begin, the music, oh the music is great, can you feel it? It just puts you right into the mood. I feel fast just listening to it. I remember walking in, I swear I almost put a little bounce in my walk, cause of the rhythm, the beat. Beautiful. Did I say beautiful? Beautiful women.
Gentlemen, Ladies, it all starts from where you sit. Where I sat, I had the best view of the club. My magic number was seven. That's how long it took for the bartender to bring my drink. So for that night it would be seven women. If he had taken three minutes to bring my drink, it would have been three women, if it had taken him thirty minutes, it would be thirty women. If he had taken fifty minutes, it would have been fifty women, and if a club has a fifty single pretty available women, am walking out. Halot house. Bad services. Slow services. Anyways, he had taken seven minutes, so it was seven women.
I stretched, sat comfortably. Ladies and gentlemen, be confident. Why, cause women like confidence, even though they don't know it. What is confidence ladies and gentlemen. Confidence ladies and gentlemen is slow, confidence is the speed you move your eyes scanning through the room, confidence is not the fast shifty eyes you scan your environment with, confidence is not turning your head immediately when someone calls you, confidence is taking your time, confidence is occupying space, patience, arms wide open and laughing out loudly with your head almost facing the roof occasionally, you run the world. Chill out.
Cool, I will be sending you my bill.
So, I was on my sixth and seventh girl, and that was the third sip of ice cubes sank in a mixture of black ice and sprite. And it was delicious like the night was going to be. Did I say I had already spotted seven hot damsels? The first one was in a very beautiful black dress, she kept scanning the around for men, in spite of her being with her friends. She definately was on my list. And was she hot, that little black dress. Oh my.
Second girl was on a table close to mine, and every time she stood up to dance, you could tell she wanted attention. Part of the list.
The third was beautiful, but mostly her table was close to the dance floor, location location location. She was part of the list...
I had seven by the time my glass was empty. Ladies and gentlemen, I loved sitting there. I had the best view. Out of the seven there had to be one who I would take home. Now that I had known who I wanted, the seven most beautiful women in the club. One was standing next to a guy, the guy seemed to be trying to talk to her, probably the soon-to-be-boyfriend, but she was on her phone, so probably...
Next step, ladies and gentlemen, did I tell you what confidence is? Occupying maximum space, no shifty eyes, comfortable movements. Walking like you know where you are going even when you have no idea where you are going or what the hell you are doing?
Now get some petrol, get a matchbox, lets burn all the magazines that talk about confidence being walking up to a random women, saying hi to her and then starting a conversation with her. Are you ready with your match sticks, are you burning the magazines? Good.
Ladies and gentlemen, first of all, clubs are noisy, yes? So please tell me why magazines ask you to walk to some random woman and try to find out what their favourite color is? Second of all, she is at her bloody table, with her pals, (if she is not, red flag, might be a hooker or worse...)
I don't know if it's yourself you don't love, but I know am not the kind of guy who would walk to the table of the seven women I had checked out and say hi. This is a club, if a woman walked to my table, where my friends were, and I didn't think she was my type, I would blow her off in such public style, she would never club again. And trust me, my pals will be totally thrilled. Why would I walk to a table filled with strangers? Why would you? Are you a creep? Come on, we are here to have fun, not hurt yourself!
Its a free world though, so do whatever. As you please...
I would laugh a little louder, almost laugh with my hands when she is looking my way, so that she thinks am a fun person. And I would spread a gaze straight at her and smile. Watch her response. Do it again, watch her response. Get her attention. Attention seized? Attention seized.
Ladies and gentlemen next step, pour myself another drink. Time to take a walk, walking slowly like confidence walks. But not too slow to look like a grandpa, know their stamina, the v word, not virgin like Viagra. As slow as sails as flaccid as snails. You will know and feel how confident walks when you walk like confidence walks.
Accidentally, as I walk past her table, I will definately bump into her accidentally. Apologize thoroughly, watching her reaction.
And I will walk away, slowly. Back to my table. We are here to have a good time, let's have a good time, how about a toast. Bottles and glasses up friends. Let's toast, toast to what? Getting laid.
If the damsel I bumped into stands up, heads to the washroom, or dance floor, more like an excuse to be alone, accessible, approachable. I interject. Wassups are exchanged.
I have a sexy mind? No. Yes? Okay... If she doesn't get up, guess what, she might not be able to get it up, she might want, but she doesn't want to get, and that's not the kind of girl you want to take home. The kind that just lies there. Don't you want a damsel who takes matters into her own hands? That stands up, that makes things stand up. And not just lie there. We are here to have fun. Sip a drink and let the lying there girls lie, onto the next one.
Damsel close to the dance floor, a gaze, eye contact, a little laughter, let her notice you, pick one of your friends on your table, head to the dance floor with your drink and your friend. Leave drink on her table. Smile at her, watch her response. If she wants, bum! If she doesn't... Life is short. Onto the next five. They were seven right?
I was at a club where they served sea food if you asked. So, having napkins on the table was usual. Elegance. Grab a pen, write my page address, yes, the link to this blog post. Drop the napkin on her table and get me more viewers. Sometime the music will get quiet, she will sit down. The moment she sees the title to this post. She will... No? Yes? I should stop marketing. Come on. What do you want to do? Leave your number instead. That feels a little desperate. Have some swag, and while you are it, get me another viewer. Touch down? Thanks.
Time to go to the next one, there is always a friend of a friend who is with hot friends need I say how easy this is? No? Yes? No.
Ladies and gentlemen, I sat there. Got up, put my drink in the air. Poured my drink on my self a little bit. Shouted. Screamed, a manly one. Sang along to a track or two. Watched that hot girl do a bend over on the pole. Watched that girl bringing her ass close to me.
Held a couple of girls waists. Got hit on by a couple of girls? Or was it in my head? Who cares. I choose to believe they are wet for me. They were desperate for me. They wanted me there and then. It makes me feel nice to think that. I was out. To have fun. To feel nice. I let myself feel nice. I believed.
I got hit on by a couple of girls, who were a bit to plain though doable. If they went out of there way to try to have me, i would let them. But on my part, i wouldn't bother. No effort. Some guy who acted so girlishly looked at me, I still have that bad taste in my mouth. Dammit, stop looking at me that way!
And yes, am the guy who texts in clubs, at times. Update my status, checks my email, tweets. And yawn when I want to. Am there to have fun. Let me be real with myself. A toast to that. Cling cling, glasses, bottles and ice cubes meet. Cling cling. Music rings beautifully in the background.
Cring cring cring. Goes my phone. A text message. At freaking three in the morning. From who? Someone I dont know, only seen photos of, did I tell you my blog expanded the radius to my social circle. She was a fan, she had liked my page and referred it to like fifty of her friends. That's how we met.
She was at a club close by. It was three in the morning. So she was drunk and straight forward. She admitted she was high and horny. And she was with her three friends.
She must feel comfortable, she knows how I think. She had been here right? Reading, right? So it was easy for her. But for me, she knows me, I don't know her... I ignored.
Then looked around, the whole effort I would have to put... I looked at my phone... Am drank and horny... I looked at the dance floor, I looked at my phone, I looked at the dance floor, I looked at my phone. I took a sip of what was in my glass. Looked at my pals, jumping and dancing, drinking and some lying on the table trying to hydrate with water. I looked at my phone. It had been ten minutes since that text.
So, three? She was with three of her friends? No? Yes! One blacked out during the texting. Two remaining. They were on there way. I was nervous.
I looked at the club, the only girl left, was white. And by that time most girls were. And the complications of her expecting I have a car in the parking lot. I didn't know whether she was a local, or a foreigner. And you know foreigners, scary lot. Freaky things right? Haven't you seen the bumper stickers in hotel loos lately, something something sex trade Kenya... But welcome tourist... Something something child... But welcome tourist.
Just walk in. I texted her. But then I started to wonder whether they would be let in. Were they that cool?
So I snaked. My friends didn't notice me walk out. To the parking lot.
Screamed out her name when I saw two women walking tfrom the gate. Why did I scream her name?cause I was a little high. Or is it confidence? Screaming in public? Kind of makes you feel like you don't care what anyone tells you right?
Oh oh. Ladies were hot.
Cab.
She told me they were flexible. Both of them were flexible, oh that would be so useful, you don't even know. Besides, it was almost last call, closing time at the club. But mostly, do the math, I didn't want going to pay entrance fees again, drinks again. I was almost tired anyways and mainly.
Cab.
So they were lesbians.
"...by the way, I have never met Bobby, this the first time we are meeting."
And all I was thinking about was what the cab guy was thinking of me.
I stopped thinking and wondering when she conveniently let her arm lie between my leg. Not lying there to do anything in particular. Just to tease me. She looked like she would do more, but we were going home. Besides, these were strangers. Who cared. I do what I wanted to do. And I didn't feel like starting the business in the cab. Did what I wanted. I didn't do anything.
I gave her girlfriend my head phones. A little Drake. It was useful cause then I wouldn't have to have a conversation with two women. Did I mention it was past four in the morning.
Opened my door. They got in.
Poured a drink or two. I locked the door. Paranoid they might leave with my house as I slept or drug me. Sent my buddy a message, with the phone number of the chic I was with.
Can you imagine I entertained them for seconds, left them in the sitting room. Then went to sleep. But she came and fell on me in bed. She didn't let me undress her. She didn't let me open her legs. She didn't talk. She let her hips talk. She bent over. I slid her clothes to the side. Fetched rubber. Slid it in. Banged her senselessly. Senselessly.
It was a careless bang. A little wilder than usual. Cause firstly, stranger. So I didn't care how she perceived me. I pressed her back a little harder.
I held her shoulder and pulled it to myself a little more carelessly. I wasn't afraid to use all my might.
One hand on her shoulder, the other on her ass. Pull her back with her shoulder, push her away with her ass. Sometimes I exchanged. Pulled her with a pinch on her ass cheek. Then push her with her shoulder. She was tasty. Right there I loved my blog.
It didn't end in an orgasm, but trust me I did whatever I wanted to do to her more than what I did with her. Note the difference?
We were at it again. I took a video of them making out. And doing other things. I dropped the camera twice, it's not easy to take a video of such happenings, I tell you. Its not easy. We didn't do it together the three of us. I just had one of them.
I came that night. I wasn't robbed or stabbed. They were actually very decent ladies. They made themselves breakfast. Milk and coco pop cereals. I made them eggs for breakfast. I felt foolish for pocketing my keys. But it's better to be safe than sorry.
What if I left them at my door? She had really big boobs. And gave really good head. And I was careless about how I handled her giving me. She liked it. She wanted to kiss. But I left her wanting. She called me baby.
"Why didn't you have a threesome?"
That's what my friend asked me. And I asked myself? Why i didn't? And I knew why.
"You know those chics probably planned that after reading your stories... Are they real by the way?"
So ladies and gentlemen, that's how we would pick a chic up at a club, select, indirectly approach, occupy space... No shifty eyes... Interject... Unless, you are me, you have a successful blog and you write.
But you know love, no threesomes after love. It was good while it lasted. It's all twosomes now. And I kiss her. I don't leave her wanting. Oh love. Marry me.
