Love Frankly
By newman.
April 4, 2010
It’s about 10 pm in a crowded club and I walk towards a group of 3 American girls 2 blonde 1 brunette, with 2 guys; both look local.
“Hey um quick question.” I say over my shoulder as I almost walk by. One of the blondes asks “Yeah?” I ignore her for a fraction of a second looking the other way “Are you talking to us?” she asks again.
“Yeah, oh yeah; sure I’ll talk to you.”
“Would you bang Christopher Walken?”
Odd question, vaguely sexual, weird-looking but masculine and talented celebrity, good open.
“What?” asks the brunette.
“Christopher Walken. True Romance, More Cowbell, you know the guy.”
It helps my English is flawless and that I detect a bit of Boston accent from the Brunette which I have no trouble matching.
“Oh yeah, sure, he’s weird looking, but I’d do him.” good answer. “So you’re the gold digger then.” Statement not question, hint of a laugh, obvious, moderately sleazy smile. I get a “What did you just say?” look and half laughs from the friends.
Exactly what I was looking for.
Turn to the guys, can’t leave them feeling vulnerable.
“ Mano. ¿Dónde se consiguieron a estas tres?”
They laugh a bit apprehensively. I introduce myself and ask them if they want something to drink,
“Dale.” Says the shorter one with the large belt buckle. Classic douchebags are surprisingly easy to charm, they respond well to Alpha.
Give the guy 30 bucks “Pídeme un Cuba de Barrilito y dieta; y ustedes lo que quieran.” He asks the girls if they want anything; basic newbie mistake.
I tell him “They have drinks (they did) they’ll get one next round (they didn’t).”
It’ll take him at least 15 minutes while he gets to the bar and explains my order to the bartender.
“So what’s with Christopher Walken?” asks the, until now, silent blonde. She’s thin, her dark brown roots are barely starting to show. I can see her brand new tan lines coming up over her shoulders in her cute, red, strapless, club dress.
“Buddy and I had a bet going that most women wouldn’t go for him. But I can see your friend here likes ugly dudes.” Brunette looks hurt, a bit more than I wanted her to. “If it makes you feel any better you made me lose the bet.” Her smirk confirmed her new feeling.
I got my drink and made more conversation. About 15 minutes in I pulled the Brunette away from her friends and into the casino. We played for about an hour, until the blondes called to see where she was. They lost the 2 locals who were apparently very pushy. We caught up with my friend and went up to one of their rooms after a gas station pit stop for Heinekens and Marlboros.
They were in fact from Boston, here on vacation for the rest of the week. That night the Brunette and I made out in our underwear while floating in the Atlantic. No sex that night for me, didn’t want it then and there, but my buddy got one of the blondes.
That’s how you get a one night stand with a temporary girl you’ll never hear or care about. That’s what they call perfect game. At one point in my life I became a bit of an expert in this process. Tourists are the best. They have this: “What happens in PR stays in PR” mentality, that makes the whole thing that much easier. Locals are a bit more difficult but in general if you don’t care about them and you don’t focus on the one girl, it’ll work with anybody. That’s how I got: The above mentioned brunette, The cute petite Floridian with the X-Men name, The Indian WOO! girl, The hot law student I had the hots for since high school, The 18 y/o engaged and confused girl form “la isla”, The sexy, half and half Nuyorican bartender, The 45 y/o divorcee, The cute emo girl, The French chick with the gap in her teeth, my friend’s sister and his ex( at the same time, my bad, he knows who he is and already forgave me), The 42 y/o ex-dancer/model who now works as a banker, The girl who had never had a devil’s 3way (with a little help from my friend), The hot advertising student with the tattoo and piercings, The separated, milky skinned, black haired girl, the blonde Pole, The skanky vet’s assistant, a chubby girl from my past, and one of my best friends. That’s not a full list by the way.
You can have whichever girl you want as long as you don’t care, and they think you care at least a little.
I hate that that’s true. It turned me into a douchebag; a using misogynist I really don’t want to be.
The problem is I don’t want to not care. I was sold on love a long time ago “The Princess Bride” and “Love Actually” are amongst my top 10. There’s a romantic in me that hates who I’ve become.
Still, since I started trying the traditional method of flowers and dinner while being a courteous gentleman, my sex life has all but disappeared and it’s been a large adjustment. I want to be better, I want to find love, I just don’t know how.
Excluded from the list above, are Eli, Christy and Z, the 3 loves of my life. My heart still skips a beat when I think about them, even though they’ve gone on with their lives and all 3 relationships were years ago;
I will always love them.
I know how I lost each one of them. I know each and every dumb or valid decision I made to slowly kill our relationships. I know why they’re not with me anymore, what I have no idea is how I got them in the first place, or how to find love again.
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