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- Jul 17, 2013
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This phrase from Chase's recent podcast, repeated at the very end of the program by Angel Donovan, stuck in my mind; and Friday it was on auto-play (with loop!) in my head throughout the evening. And yes, I pushed like hell, and I learned a great deal.
Highly relevant details are bolded to enable the busy reader to skim-read.
An aside: It is ironic that while I focus my efforts almost exclusively on daytime cold approach, the result is that the boundaries are gradually receding on my very occasional forays into peripheral social circle. Sure, in my youth (for this purpose, 1995–2001) I kissed, dated and slept with a fair number of girls... but none of it was planned as such, it was all purely opportunistic as I stumbled into and out of relationships. As I emerge from my dubious experiment with "monogamy", I find I can no longer rely on incidental encounters. To be able to select a specific girl that I like and lead her confidently through a treacherous social/business setting to k-close is fair progress for me, though it is a measure of what I have learned that I wish I had been able to persist further, and I fear I may have left her disappointed.
Friday afternoon after running an errand I walk back to the office from the parking deck; a beautiful redhead passes me in the street. I am looking up and away with a slight smile; as she gets closer I make experimental eye contact and she returns it. I smile slowly and she returns the smile. We pass; my training is telling me to turn, catch up and open from the side, but I check myself. I am right outside my office. There are several divisions of the organization with many employees I do not know. Little else is on this street; the likelihood that she works in my building is fairly high. I am fine with flirting under the radar in an occupational setting (the atmosphere in my line of work is a good deal looser than in the corporate world), but I want to know consciously that this is what I am doing and adjust appropriately, not open as a cold-approach and find out later. Reluctantly, I let her go. The relevance of this will shortly become apparent.
I work in the entertainment business as a head of function and although I am essentially a commercial/numbers guy with little involvement on the operational side, when a new product venture is launched, senior staff are encouraged to attend to meet benefactors and high-status supporters and ease the process. Friday evening was such an event. A drinks reception opened the proceedings.
I enter and begin an ordinary "social butterfly" routine, at ease, making small talk with various parties while keeping an eye on the room. I notice a close colleague; she has a fierce temper at times, but is a very good, warm-hearted person underneath, as she demonstrates during the course of this evening by not getting in the way; we'll call her KindMoodyGirl. (KindMoodyGirl might have been naturally reasonable-looking, but has probably foregone most potential sexual interest from men by allowing herself to become perhaps fifty pounds overweight as she advances in years.) She is in conversation with two guests, prospects for our new series, and I engage. The man is short in stature and seems an all-round good guy without being of especial interest; we'll call him LitteNiceGuy. The woman is tall, beyond her youthful prime (early 40s perhaps), has a good figure, a Southern accent and manner, and opens warmly to me; we'll call her AntsyBelle.
After quickly establishing that she and LittleNiceGuy are not together, by asking what part of town each lives, I decide to "warm up" by seeing how far I can push things with AntsyBelle; I run a classic social flirting game with slightly averted body language, sidelong eye contact, and just a little "too much" attention directed at her by, for example, engaging in normal, neutral conversation with everyone else but making questions to her a bit too personal for the general tone of conversation, with deeper, slower vocals, and directed at her only... like the commencement of a deep-dive. She responds well to this and does things like standing improperly close to me (i.e. touching) when viewing someone's photos on an iPhone.
We sit. KindMoodyGirl says she has to leave briefly to meet an important visitor and bring her back. I assure her that I'll take good care of AntsyBelle, briefly putting my arm around her; KindMoodyGirl responds by saying: "Watch out for this Marty, AntsyBelle, he looks like such a smooth European gentleman but he's actually pretty dangerous!"—to general laughter. Perfect! Couldn't have asked for more...
Presently KindMoodyGirl returns—with a stunning visitor in tow. Perhaps 23-24, 5'10" (as I confirm later), hair the color of a fiery ocean sunrise falling over her shoulders, and the milky-white skin and doe-like, steel-gray eyes that so often accompany it. She possesses an exquisite hourglass figure with a rounded, well-defined ass. Since she originally hails from the West Coast, we will call her PacificBeauty and she is of course the subject of this report. She is a manager at a similar organization in a neighboring state, come to observe our launch, standing in for her boss who got sick. Lucky for me!
I sit back and participate in low-key conversation. As KindMoodyGirl makes introductions, my gaze is averted; I do not look expectantly at PacificBeauty—I know I will be introduced in due course. When that happens I wait until her gaze is upon me first, then look deeply into her eyes, stand, take her hand and smile slowly—without uttering a word. Small-talk resumes and I disengage. LittleNiceGuy is showing off his knowledge of PacificBeauty's current city of residence in a transparent effort to impress. AntsyBelle is suddenly making energetic contributions to the conversation, possibly to pre-emptively disrupt any rapport-building I might seek to begin with our newcomer. I adopt the "bored look" and maintain it until everyone cools off.
A lull in conversation ensues; I take the opportunity. I have not yet opened my mouth once since PacificBeauty arrived. Without leaning in or making any visible effort, I direct intense eye-contact at her and in my deepest, most authoritative voice ask whether she moved to her present city to take this the employment opportunity specifically, or whether she had been seeking a move to the city and the job was incidental. In contrast to the conversation until now, it is a meaningful question, full of potential avenues for exploration. She starts visibly at the sound of my voice and leans closer. Good, she likes me. She responds in great detail, even mentioning something that she "deeply cares about". We're off to a good start.
AntsyBelle has obviously sensed the dynamic and goes into a deep, sulky auto-rejection, turning her body language away from me completely. The newcomer is perhaps 20 years younger than her and of incomparably higher value. It is too late; preselection has done its work.
The social environment is tricky for me to make progress, with five people sitting at the table, and I cannot see an immediate path ahead. There is an announcement that the main event is shortly to begin. AntsyBelle takes her leave and says it was nice to meet me. PacificBeauty asks if I am attending the main event. I say no and she is visibly disappointed. I disappear.
I drive home to eat dinner. As I pull in to the garage, it suddenly hits me. PacificBeauty is the girl I saw in the street earlier that day. She had been going back to her hotel to change; with the different context and dress combined, I did not recognize her immediately.
I quicky eat, freshen up and decide on a course of action as I drive back. Following the main event, guests have congregated again in the reception room. I glide in and begin conversation near the entrance with two men I vaguely recognize, keeping them talking actively as I keep an eye on the room. I identify PacificBeauty within two minutes; she sees me too and visibly registers surprise at my return. She is with KindMoodyGirl who is taking care of her during her visit. Miraculously, after about 10 minutes they move right past me, KindMoodyGirl in front and PacificBeauty a few paces behind—the room is very crowded and it is easy to peel off unnoticed. Time to "go direct", in the more subtle, roundabout way appropriate to the social circle environment.
I stop her with a touch to the upper arm and say:
- Marty: Hey PacificBeauty, did you say you flew in early this morning?
PacificBeauty: Yes...
Marty: So what have you been doing all day?
PacificBeauty: Working with KindMoodyGirl, seeing what you guys get up to over here, you know...
Marty: Can I ask you something? Step over here a second... about four o'clock this afternoon, I saw a beautiful tall girl with lovely long red hair walking down the street here: could that have been you?
PacificBeauty: Haha! It could, yes... I might have been going to my hotel (though she doesn't show recognition)
- Marty: Sure, don't worry, PacificBeauty... I'm not going anywhere!
The music is played in snippets with brief interludes for general conversation. During the first of these, I see PacificBeauty moving my way. I suppress the urge to meet her halfway and instead plant my feet facing her and make a powerful beckoning gesture. Her face lights up and she increases her pace.
We stand close together at the back of the room. The need for near-silence during the musical snippets is not conducive to deep-diving, although I manage a few probing questions during the interludes. I remember Chase's counsel above to be continually pushing with women. When the final piece of music begins, I decide on the ultimate nonverbal act of sprezzatura. I enter PacificBeauty's name into my iPhone, change the phone type to "mobile" and hand it to her, without a word. She giggles, inputs her number and hands it back, whispering: "That's not even my work number". Later that evening, I confirm that she does indeed have two cell phones in her purse and has given me her personal number.
I have to move her. The music finishes and she suggests we sit. This presents a difficulty; I can see she wants to isolate somewhat but I don't want to be the follower. Remembering Chase's words again, I push further and suggest 10-15 minutes of fresh air, an opportunity to see our city's main street. She assents and follows me out of the venue. Frankly, I actually surprise myself at the level of compliance I am getting.
After two blocks I ask her whether she needs to be back soon for any business reason; she says she ought to be, but her actions speak otherwise and she moves forward away from the venue. After four blocks she asks if we have any specific destination and I say no, we can turn back any time, it's just an opportunity to talk without disturbance. Again she continues in the same direction of her own accord. After five blocks I initiate an about-turn, to maintain control on my terms. Drawing near some benches, I suggest we sit, but she declines and says she doesn't want KindMoodyGirl to think she has "bailed". We joke about it a little. She is chatting away with very little prompting; she walks close to me and I employ leading and incidental touch, but we have not yet explored any really deep topics, and as a consequence I do not believe we have yet established enough of a connection to attempt a kiss yet.
We are out for about 20 minutes total. On arrival she says she needs to use the restroom and I say "okay", half-jokingly, "nice talking to you". Panic briefly crosses her face and she assures me she'll be right back.
There appears to be a line at the ladies' and so as not to be the first back, waiting for PacificBeauty, I take the elevator to the offices and drink some water. I return shortly and she and KindMoodyGirl are at the other end of the hall. I loiter. Their body-language, fifty feet away, is transparent. KindMoodyGirl is taking a few paces away from my direction, but PacificBeauty is shaking her head and pointing toward me. Soon she leaves KindMoodyGirl and walks in my direction.
- PacificBeauty: We're going to get something to eat. Are you coming?
Marty: I've already eaten, but I'll come and sit with you. If you want me to join you, of course...
PacificBeauty: Yes, I do.
The hook point has definitively been reached.
I ask whether she plans to visit our city again in the near future; she has no such firm plans at present. She mentions to KindMoodyGirl that she has been given an unusual hotel room with two stories. She also mentions that she has an early flight in the morning because she has an important business commitment the following day. (All three of these seemingly irrelevant points are picked up later in the narrative.)
We walk to a casual pizzeria and are joined there by some of the performers, three males and one female, including the younger man I saw talking with PacificBeauty earlier. Orders are placed at the bar and we have a table in the patio. As we take our places, PacificBeauty looks at me significantly, indicates two adjacent seats on one side of the table, and makes sure that I sit with her.
I am back in a social situation where escalation is going to be difficult. I am actually getting concerned that if I do not take action she might auto-reject. I find a good balance though; she is alternately taking a lively part in the social conversation, and looking over at me and smiling. I imitate this: I spend ten minutes or so shooting the breeze with the three guys, then withdraw into a "bubble" with PacificBeauty and deep-dive very hard. She offers me some pizza and I decline, but ask to sip her wine, which she gladly offers.
At one point she mentions that she keeps checking her wrist for the time, but is without her watch, just wearing her bracelet. I tell her it is 10.25 PM and grasp her wrist. I inspect the bracelet closely, comment that it matches her earrings, then run my fingers through her hair around her ear and make as if to inspect the earring also. I make appropriate remarks. By this point, obviously, others at the table are surreptitiously watching us with interest.
Our "bubble" conversation has become very deep. Eye contact by this point is almost never broken and very intense on both sides. She orders and pays for another glass of wine and immediately offers to share it with me; I assent. Eyes averted, I ask her quietly whether she has a boyfriend. "What?!" she says teasingly, with a smile, affecting not to have heard and playfully making me repeat the question while looking her in the eye. By this point, testosterone is making me go soft in the head: like an idiot, I ask again. "It's complicated," she says—she actually uses this phrase. Then she looks at me tenderly. "I'm sorry I don't have plans to return to your city right now. And what about you?" she asks immediately.
"It's complicated for me too," I reply, and incredibly she seems to let me get away with this half-assed answer and doesn't probe further. The thought occurs to me that she may have already discussed the issue with KindMoodyGirl, but I dismiss it as outside my control and not worth worrying about. Then inspiration hits me. I swear I didn't prepare this line in advance!
- Marty: I think things tend to be complicated for interesting people like us.
PacificBeauty: It's always complicated for me... I don't think I'd want it any other way. Simple is... not what I want from life.
We return to discussing hopes and aspirations, family, influences on character and the like, and the conversation takes an interesting turn when PacificBeauty starts telling me that she is intensely ambitious and believes you have to be willing to take risks to succeed.
Recalling Chase's words about pushing with women a third time, I tell her that I have a similar belief and generally stick my neck out in my professional life, but then switch context.
- Marty: Speaking of taking risks, I've traveled on business countless times and stayed in hotels all over the world... (at this point she starts looking at me curiously and knows something odd is coming...) but I have never seen a two-story hotel room. (I maintain intense, unbroken eye contact.)
- PacificBeauty: I can't... I really can't, I'm so sorry! Is that all right?
Marty: Is it "all right"? Of course it's all right, did you think I was never going to call you, text you?
PacificBeauty: That's up to you, but I can't risk missing my flight tomorrow. I have the job to do tomorrow I mentioned earlier... I only have a few hours' sleep left.
Marty: I wouldn't dream of making you miss your flight! But we spoke of taking bold action, and this was one proposal I felt I had to make.
PacificBeauty: I know. And I appreciate it, I really do. (pause) Thank you.
Here was a girl 13-14 years younger than me telling me that she "appreciates" my inviting myself to her hotel room. "Thanking me" for offering to nail her. Franco, you're right, I now understand; girls really do "appreciate it" in the right circumstances!
We remain largely in the "bubble" in the ensuing minutes, and then the evening comes to an end. People say their goodbyes; thankfully they all depart in the opposite direction to PacificBeauty's hotel. I hear one of the men ask if my car is in the deck, but I don't make eye contact and pretend not to hear, and realizing what is happening he drops the question. They leave; I walk PacificBeauty back to her hotel.
We walk close together, touching. It is only a couple hundred feet or so. She tells me it was good I came back earlier in the evening... she hadn't expected me to return.
On arrival at her hotel, she thanks me again and says goodbye and draws in toward me for a kiss on the cheek. As she pulls back afterward, I say: "Let's try that again... properly, this time."
PacificBeauty says: "What? Oh! You mean..." and smiles, then purses her lips, and kisses me on the mouth. I slip my arm around her waist.
I say: "No, I mean really properly. Let's try once more."
She draws in again, opens her mouth and brushes her lips against mine, her tongue entering my mouth for the briefest time, a couple seconds at most.
I ask a second time to accompany her; she says she has to go, and kisses me again on the mouth. I ask a third time, but she has pulled away, is walking toward the lobby, and wishes me the best.
Okay, fellas, thanks for reading. I have two questions:
- 1. Where did I screw up? Should I have persisted more, 10-12 times perhaps? Do you think I left her disappointed and angry? Had she been counting on me helping her to make the most of her few remaining hours in my city, and was her refusal purely a test of mettle? That's to help me with future interactions.
2. Ignoring for the present the question of distance (which is in principle soluble), is she lost to me? I sent her a text after I drove home; she replied within a half-hour, at about 12.30 AM, but it was a little cold and impersonal. She has not responded to further texts, in spite of my crafting them with a great deal of tenderness. I still fall for women too easily, I know, but I'd like your opinion. Can it be saved? And how? Pull back for a while, then reengage if I visit her city?
))
