Rested Laurels

I was looking through my belongings on my desk, and came across the Notebook. I flipped through its pages and realized how far I had fallen.

Once upon a time, I used to moonlight as a dating coach. I had an ad on Craigslist, met clients for brunch, went to their homes to raid their closets, taught them to properly fold pocket squares, dressed like a pretty girl so women would smell the preselection on my champions. I suppose I use the word “champions” loosely. Most times they’d talk to a girl at a venue and nothing would come of it. Only my long time clients really made it to first-date bangs, but I only had a handful of those. My rates were anywhere from $50 to $150 an hour. As you can imagine, the champs had deep pockets.

Anyhow, I looked at all the notes I had written. How venue changes get a girl more invested in the date (having her pay for the first round of drinks is another good way of doing that). Kino at the right moment. How to make a conversation flow and how to make silences pregnant with anticipation. I sound like a douchebag player. Because, once upon a time, I played the game.

Whenever I met a client (who wasn’t some creepy Craigslist stinker trying to solicit me for sex, at least half of them) I always started with this:

A few things: I’m not here to have sex with you; I’m here to help you fuck other women. I don’t have a magical pill that will make you a pussy magnet; you’re gonna spend some time in the trenches to earn your stripes. Crashing and burning will be a far better teacher than my criticism. And you should never take advice about women from a chick.

As a girl who sees the strings moving the marionettes, I thought I’d always see what was coming at me. Nope. No. Wrong. REALLY WRONG. I became comfortable and fell into Sucker Land. I was one of those girls who fell prey to ME.

Fuck that.

I have other things to study tonight. Douchebaggery things.

3 thoughts on “Rested Laurels

    1. Eh, just that men and women view things differently. Chicks typically don’t know what men are looking for or, more often than not, they’ll push what the THINK guys should be dating. There are exceptions, but I’ll figure the odds of meeting such a lady. The frequency of women described as “cute” or “nice” (by other women) turning out to be “victims of ugly sticks” is a little too high for the hypothesis to be null.

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