Well first I should apologise for being a little slow with my updates to the blog, but the reason is that I'm in mourning. MOURNING, I tell you!
Ebay <dabbs tear from eye with handkerchief>, have SUSPENDED my account!
For LIFE!
Why is this relevant to the blog? Only because the reason for the suspension was an auction I uploaded titled "A hot date with Geekymicky!"
Auction removed due to "adult content"
Bloody killjoys.. I only put it up there for a laugh, and before it was pulled it had attracted four "watchers", all of whom might have been female!
And no you can't just open up a fresh account; they've got software that detects who you are, and your new account will end up banned as well.
So this means that from now on I'll appear in public impeccably dressed. Due to the fact that I'll have to buy my clothes from a proper shop at full price rather than discount "designer" Ebay second-hand clothing that is so ill-fitting that I always look like a scarecrow with a wedding invitation..
Anyway moving on to the sarging efforts of the week (sarging means trying to pick up chicks), and this week on Saturday morning I visited the Science museum in London.
But my game was not so good as I'm feeling a little depressed; losing Ebay is like losing your right hand. Yes, even worse than losing your left hand..
Now the Science museum is not the most obvious choice for chicks it has to be said, but it should attract the more intelligent babe; those who wear glasses. In fact a chick wearing glasses is really good because it means when you get down and dirty with them the glasses protect her eyes against any er, ..any, er.. ...I better not go there.
I started off in the "history of materials" section on the second floor, and there was a large transparent model of a woman with steel-reinforced bones and other man-made materials like pacemakers and false teeth inside her, to show how materials have benefited medicine and surgery over the years.
Another model of a woman (a living one) was looking at it.
"isn't it amazing what sort of man-made things you can stick into a woman's body"
The conversation started, but it soon fizzled out. She walked off, only for me to approach her again to proclaim my love for her, in the usual way.
"Very nice of you to say so. But I've got a boyfriend" was her reply.
"I'm not surprised", I continued. "How long.."
at which point she cut in to say that she was at the museum with her brother, who was just.. over.. there..
I made a swift exit to avoid being beaten into a pulp.
Now I do have to say I like the science museum, and my favourite section has to be the "Hall of aviation" right at the back on the 5th floor.
Right in front of the display on the Wright brothers (the pioneers of free flight, and the inspiration for Ryanair) was a nice girl. "What gave you the inspiration to fly" I opened with.
That confused her.
"No I've never flown in my life"
"What, not even on an airliner?"
"No, not even on a coach..."
????
I give up. The problem with the science museum is there are lots of women there, but they are all in couples. So I was having to stop and stare at a few to see whether they moved with their partners or seem to be on their own. Which makes me appear even more like a stalker..
So when I got into a conversation with a woman about which planes she would like to fly, and the conversation moved on to a plane hanging right over the top of us, she called a guy over. It was her boyfriend. "Isn't that the plane that Amelia Earhart used to cross the Atlantic?"
Glad I hadn't delivered my words of eternal love to her by this stage, as I would have been trying to board her!*
Back towards the front, through the "farming" section (which curiously hosted a number of fat women, drawn presumably to the equally fat farm animals on display) and on to the maths department, and the cabinets displaying the mobius loops.
"Aren't these loops amazing" I said to a girl. "A mobius loop looks like it has two sides to it, but actually only has one"
"Yes they are" she replied, but went on to say:
"..in molecular biochemistry they are non-chiral constitutional steroisomers, describing pairs of isomeric molecular structures possessing non-homeomorphic molecular graphs, while the classical stereoisomers (enantiomers and diastereomers) possess molecular graphs which are homeomorphic and also homeotopic (interconvertable by continuous deformation in 3-space)."
"Who the hell are you!"
(She was a PhD student at Imperial College, just around the corner.)
Now why can't we have a mix of the above two women, and have two with normal intelligence, instead of Jade Goody and Miss bleeding Einstein
Right I've had enough of the Science museum. It's time to go over the road.. to:
The Victoria and Albert museum
******************************
Now this should have some tottie, because it is filled with boring art and culture. I hate art, and know nothing about culture. But since women hate everything I love, and I love everything they hate, this place should be a positive breeding ground <heh heh heh>..
And I was right! The first girl I approached I got a number close. Bosh just like that!
It went like clockwork. I saw the small Indian girl sitting admiring some dour painting in the middle of a large room, walked towards her, waited for the security guard to walk past, then opened with "Do you know what time the museum closes?"
She replied she thought it was around 5:30pm
I walked away, paused, turned around, and continued: "Actually the real reason I came over to talk to you is that I think you're really beautiful, and I had to say hello"
"Thanks" she replied, beaming with a smile, "I think you're nice too!"
"blimey, he's off" my friend Elvis Clarkson would have said at this point. "he's off!.."
After finding out she was an accountant, I gave her my card, said I had to go, but it would be nice to go to the science museum next weekend (she had talked about this) and she should enter her digits into my phone. Which she did.
We have a winner!
I thought I'd exit the museum to savour my victory, have a pee, a cup of tea, a short rest, before going into my next venue which was:
Harrods
*******
Now on the face of things Harrods would seem to be a good place to chat up women. But the trouble with it is that being a shop for the rich, there are sales staff everywhere. So it is difficult to say anything to women without the risk of being overheard, and the risk (or inevitability probably in my case) of being thrown out.
Oh and many of the women are old and unattractive.
It was difficult. I approached, I must say, only two in the whole two hours I was there. And it is tiring because (as Britain's largest shop) it requires a fair bit of walking. And there is nowhere to sit down to rest ones legs unless you are prepared to be ripped off in one of their many in-store cafes. £14 for a blinkin' ice cream; you must be having a laugh.
Before I left, empty handed (apart from the goods I had shoplifted - only joking), I reflected on the fact that I was probably not the only guy to have considered chatting up women in Harrods. But that many other guys might be after a woman's money as well as their bodies, hence the creation of a lot of competition I don't need to have.
It was time for my evening meal, a nice beef dish at a "Spaghetti House" restaurant nearby. The same one that was under siege in the 1970s; they had newspaper cut-outs from the time in the front porch telling you all about it.
Yummy.
The final effort of the day was a bit of night game at around 8:20pm in the "Walkabout" Australian pub in Covent Garden, and four foxy ladies right at the back.
"Excuse me, sorry to trouble you, but have you seen a guy who looks a bit like me, but taller, here in the last few minutes"
That got them going. No they hadn't seen my brother, but they had a good scan around the room with their eyes.
Mind you that was not surprising. I wasn't actually planning to meet him there, but later in Shoreditch. But the story makes a great opener!
"I'm supposed to be meeting him her at 8:30pm. Do you mind if I wait here for a bit?"
They were happy for me to wait. Sailed past the hook point, and I even got a seat!
I actually can't remember what we spent our time talking about, but I spent a good half an hour with them, and had a great time, with not a little sexual inuendo and banter. One of the girls was rather miffed when another said the first was single. Not sure what happened there.
But three of the four said they were married, with the last in a long-term relationship. Yet one of the married ones was really quite flirtatious, and I was able to get my arm around her, a good solid bit of "keno" (this means touching a girl to escalate sexual intensity). But I couldn't bring myself to persue a married woman, as that seemed to be wrong.
I left to try out another pub. I think now they were joking about being married. None of them were wearing rings as married women often do. So perhaps if this happens again I'll keep trying to escalate a little more.
The final pub was the O'Neills bar near Oxford circus, and as I walked up there I was "disappointed" to find that I would have to pass through Soho, the centre of Seedy London, and my spiritual home.
Passing the gay bars there, which were rammed full of guys (is "rammed" an unfortunate choice of word in that context?). I mean in one of them there "must have been 200 guys for every guy.." (that was meant as a joke - come on laugh then..)
Up through the passage under the old Raymond's review bar, into a naughty shop to ogle the videos, and on to the O'Neills bar.
It was full to the rafters, and the door staff weren't letting anyone in. My protestations of "I've got a blog to write and my readers are clamouring for the next posting" just didn't cut it I'm afraid.
And there we have it. A number to call was the result for the day. I wonder how that'll pan out.
Till next time, once my bout of man-flu has passed, adios!
*(the plane, that is, not the girl)
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Monday, 16 January 2012
The luck of the Irish?
Well I got a reply to my email I sent to the girl on the underground at Waterloo. As I didn't think I had much of a chance with her I had emailed her the link to my blog, for a laugh.
Her reply read:
"Hey GeekyMicky,
Thanks for the email.
Very funny post about our meeting at the weekend.
You were extremely complimentary! Thanks : )
Unfortunately, I am very happy with my new relationship
and did not intend to convey any hesitation!!
I do wish you all the luck in your quest in finding
a girlfriend. I am sure it wont take you very long!
Take care,
Classy black doctor babe"
Liar Liar!! I think she did hesitate too.
And where she says "unfortunately" when talking about her new relationship, I think this is a freudian slip, and she thinks that the new relationship is "unfortunate". Am I right, or am I right?
OK I'm probably wrong..
Anyway moving on, and my friend Elvis-Clarkson has posted a link to this blog on my youtube flying video from 2008. Entitled "seconds from death" it was, well, probably quite accurate.
Here's the link back to it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1G4Y_3l-Phg
I don't know how he thinks this video might help me pull women, but I suppose they might die of laughter and then I can enjoy some necrophilia with them.
But besides that hang gliding is fun. I love being able to fly around to survey the countryside, the fields, the wildlife; and you can land anywhere you like. This comes in especially handy when you fly over a sheep who looks lonely. And frisky...
Saturday 14th January - Reading night game
******************************************
I had been planning to go to Oxford today for some day game, but I fell asleep after lunch, so there wasn't enough time.
Looks like it'll be a spot of night game instead. In Reading.
It wasn't pretty.
First I arrived next to the canal outside the Oracle centre to find that all the pubs there had turned into restaurants, and therefore of limited use for gaming.
I went into one of them to ask where I could find the pubs.
And it was fortunate that the first people I came across was a group of young women. Who unfortunately took my question and threw it into the trash can. They claimed, with not a little hint of insenserity, that they were not from round here.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"Taunton".
"Ooh Aarh cider drinkeers you mars't beeae" I replied, but they blanked me completely.
Onwards to another area of town and into the "slug and lettuce" bar.
Oh dear.
Went straight up to three girls sat at a table:
"Hi, I was trying to think of something to say to start a conversation with you, but I can't think of anything to say. Can you think of something?"
A few mumbled words of reply, then nothing.
"I'm GeekyMicky" I offered, with an outstretched hand, "and you are?"
Nothing.
So I decided to sit down at the table so that I was not towering over them (page 43 of the book). At which point all three slowly turned around and engaged in conversation with another group of people at the next table, completely ignoring me.
I took the hint.
Onto the third "set" of girls standing by the bar. "Hi".
"We've just found a table" they replied, before walking off towards it directly behind me.
This is hard work!
I left the Slug and Lettuce. Clearly nobody there wanted to f*** l*** r*****s
Into another pub, and the most comical rejection of the night.
After standing next to a wall for a few minutes I walked up to a table of three girls, and put my drink down on the table while I started to engage them.
As soon as I opened my mouth the girl on the left, a feisty little number, stood up, picked the glass up, and put it onto another table nearby that was unoccupied.
The bloody cheek!
I moved it back. Whereupon she proceeded to grab the fourth chair from their table and moved it to the other table, moving the drink there again. "Sit there!" she said.
That was humiliating. Everyone in the bar must have been looking at me sat alone on that chair.
Still I took my punishment like a man, and stayed there until I finished my drink. Bloody women!
Enough of that. I'm off to one last bar to see whether anything can be salvaged from the evening.
It was O'Neill's bar, an irish pub. There were three middle aged ladies there, and they loved me!
After having done the same opener "I want to talk to you, but I can't think of what to say" the conversation fizzled out, and I walked off.
But when I walked past them 2 minutes later, they called me over. "You're not leaving us already are you?"
"er, No. No I don't have to" I replied.
"So what's your name" they asked, and the conversation continued interview style, except that it was they who were asking the questions, not me.
It was obvious that all three of them fancied the pants off me. And to be fair two of the three were not bad looking at all. (MILF material yes but nothing wrong with that. My welsh friend Matthew would love them). They were cougars!
Well past the hook point, so the next task is to isolate the girl I wanted to pull (page 140), who was the second one, miss scrubber. (the other two were miss piggy and miss mysterious).
But the trouble was I couldn't do it. Much as I tried to have the conversation with my newly beloved, miss piggy kept butting in!
So I switched allegiances, and started aiming for miss piggy. But the charms of miss mysterious were simply too powerful to ignore, and eventually I found myself trying to chat all three of them up at once.
Not a productive move.
Although it might have seemed on the surface to be going very well, I knew that I was failing to follow the script. Well unless I had a realistic expectation of achieving a foursome with them all (which had crossed my mind, of course), but I'm sure that's an advanced skill I can't hope to achieve yet!
What I should have done at this point is just gone for it with one of the girls, and say come back to my hotel room (which would have required some logistics considering I hadn't booked one yet), but for some reason I got hung up on trying to arrange to drive them home, delivering the last one to her bedroom door, not just her front door.
SO I decided to try to number close them. Which failed ("no we'll call you Geeky"), so I gave them each a business card.
OK well this wasn't happening, but I can before I go try out a little saucy banter to try my luck (I wouldn't recommend doing this as a day game opener):
"Have you girls ever had a threesome" - to much tittering.
"Group hug" whereupon I got my arms around all three. But it felt more like a rugby tackle than anything remotely erotic.
"I'm going to be your girlfriend tonight" to number 2. Yeah baby!, and
"We've got married, and this is our wedding night" - more tittering.
They were sad to see me go, but I've got a hunch at least one of them will email me.
Who knows...
p.s. Had to relay to you a great story from Sunday morning. I was having my usual cup of earl grey with a greasy chocolate tiffin with my doctor friend Brett in the hospital Costa cafe, when one of the other customers, a very sexy 21-year old blond babe, fainted in the table right next to us.
Whether this resulted from the realisation that Costa coffee tastes even worse that that NHS muck they serve from those oversized tin cylinders when they don't need them any more at Sellafield for carrying low-level radioactive coolant fluid, or from Brett's obvious manly charms, I don't know.
Did you read that last sentance in one breath? Just checking :-)
But clean out she went. Wow what a lovely pair of jugs!
So Brett, wearing his Orange jump suit with badge saying "DOCTOR", could never miss a chance like that; he was over her like a python coiling up for its first meal.
She soon came round (which was a shame since I was enjoying ogling her naughty bits), and within minutes was as right as rain. All it was was that she had had a bit of a panic attack after breaking up with her boyfriend, and had forgotton to eat anything for breakfast.
The sly old dog, she said he was her "hero" and she invited him round to her flat for a late night "date". Before he declined her kind offer, saying he was very happy with his girlfriend Lady Penelope.
I don't know how he does it. Bastard!
Her reply read:
"Hey GeekyMicky,
Thanks for the email.
Very funny post about our meeting at the weekend.
You were extremely complimentary! Thanks : )
Unfortunately, I am very happy with my new relationship
and did not intend to convey any hesitation!!
I do wish you all the luck in your quest in finding
a girlfriend. I am sure it wont take you very long!
Take care,
Classy black doctor babe"
Liar Liar!! I think she did hesitate too.
And where she says "unfortunately" when talking about her new relationship, I think this is a freudian slip, and she thinks that the new relationship is "unfortunate". Am I right, or am I right?
OK I'm probably wrong..
Anyway moving on, and my friend Elvis-Clarkson has posted a link to this blog on my youtube flying video from 2008. Entitled "seconds from death" it was, well, probably quite accurate.
Here's the link back to it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1G4Y_3l-Phg
I don't know how he thinks this video might help me pull women, but I suppose they might die of laughter and then I can enjoy some necrophilia with them.
But besides that hang gliding is fun. I love being able to fly around to survey the countryside, the fields, the wildlife; and you can land anywhere you like. This comes in especially handy when you fly over a sheep who looks lonely. And frisky...
Saturday 14th January - Reading night game
******************************************
I had been planning to go to Oxford today for some day game, but I fell asleep after lunch, so there wasn't enough time.
Looks like it'll be a spot of night game instead. In Reading.
It wasn't pretty.
First I arrived next to the canal outside the Oracle centre to find that all the pubs there had turned into restaurants, and therefore of limited use for gaming.
I went into one of them to ask where I could find the pubs.
And it was fortunate that the first people I came across was a group of young women. Who unfortunately took my question and threw it into the trash can. They claimed, with not a little hint of insenserity, that they were not from round here.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"Taunton".
"Ooh Aarh cider drinkeers you mars't beeae" I replied, but they blanked me completely.
Onwards to another area of town and into the "slug and lettuce" bar.
Oh dear.
Went straight up to three girls sat at a table:
"Hi, I was trying to think of something to say to start a conversation with you, but I can't think of anything to say. Can you think of something?"
A few mumbled words of reply, then nothing.
"I'm GeekyMicky" I offered, with an outstretched hand, "and you are?"
Nothing.
So I decided to sit down at the table so that I was not towering over them (page 43 of the book). At which point all three slowly turned around and engaged in conversation with another group of people at the next table, completely ignoring me.
I took the hint.
Onto the third "set" of girls standing by the bar. "Hi".
"We've just found a table" they replied, before walking off towards it directly behind me.
This is hard work!
I left the Slug and Lettuce. Clearly nobody there wanted to f*** l*** r*****s
Into another pub, and the most comical rejection of the night.
After standing next to a wall for a few minutes I walked up to a table of three girls, and put my drink down on the table while I started to engage them.
As soon as I opened my mouth the girl on the left, a feisty little number, stood up, picked the glass up, and put it onto another table nearby that was unoccupied.
The bloody cheek!
I moved it back. Whereupon she proceeded to grab the fourth chair from their table and moved it to the other table, moving the drink there again. "Sit there!" she said.
That was humiliating. Everyone in the bar must have been looking at me sat alone on that chair.
Still I took my punishment like a man, and stayed there until I finished my drink. Bloody women!
Enough of that. I'm off to one last bar to see whether anything can be salvaged from the evening.
It was O'Neill's bar, an irish pub. There were three middle aged ladies there, and they loved me!
After having done the same opener "I want to talk to you, but I can't think of what to say" the conversation fizzled out, and I walked off.
But when I walked past them 2 minutes later, they called me over. "You're not leaving us already are you?"
"er, No. No I don't have to" I replied.
"So what's your name" they asked, and the conversation continued interview style, except that it was they who were asking the questions, not me.
It was obvious that all three of them fancied the pants off me. And to be fair two of the three were not bad looking at all. (MILF material yes but nothing wrong with that. My welsh friend Matthew would love them). They were cougars!
Well past the hook point, so the next task is to isolate the girl I wanted to pull (page 140), who was the second one, miss scrubber. (the other two were miss piggy and miss mysterious).
But the trouble was I couldn't do it. Much as I tried to have the conversation with my newly beloved, miss piggy kept butting in!
So I switched allegiances, and started aiming for miss piggy. But the charms of miss mysterious were simply too powerful to ignore, and eventually I found myself trying to chat all three of them up at once.
Not a productive move.
Although it might have seemed on the surface to be going very well, I knew that I was failing to follow the script. Well unless I had a realistic expectation of achieving a foursome with them all (which had crossed my mind, of course), but I'm sure that's an advanced skill I can't hope to achieve yet!
What I should have done at this point is just gone for it with one of the girls, and say come back to my hotel room (which would have required some logistics considering I hadn't booked one yet), but for some reason I got hung up on trying to arrange to drive them home, delivering the last one to her bedroom door, not just her front door.
SO I decided to try to number close them. Which failed ("no we'll call you Geeky"), so I gave them each a business card.
OK well this wasn't happening, but I can before I go try out a little saucy banter to try my luck (I wouldn't recommend doing this as a day game opener):
"Have you girls ever had a threesome" - to much tittering.
"Group hug" whereupon I got my arms around all three. But it felt more like a rugby tackle than anything remotely erotic.
"I'm going to be your girlfriend tonight" to number 2. Yeah baby!, and
"We've got married, and this is our wedding night" - more tittering.
They were sad to see me go, but I've got a hunch at least one of them will email me.
Who knows...
p.s. Had to relay to you a great story from Sunday morning. I was having my usual cup of earl grey with a greasy chocolate tiffin with my doctor friend Brett in the hospital Costa cafe, when one of the other customers, a very sexy 21-year old blond babe, fainted in the table right next to us.
Whether this resulted from the realisation that Costa coffee tastes even worse that that NHS muck they serve from those oversized tin cylinders when they don't need them any more at Sellafield for carrying low-level radioactive coolant fluid, or from Brett's obvious manly charms, I don't know.
Did you read that last sentance in one breath? Just checking :-)
But clean out she went. Wow what a lovely pair of jugs!
So Brett, wearing his Orange jump suit with badge saying "DOCTOR", could never miss a chance like that; he was over her like a python coiling up for its first meal.
She soon came round (which was a shame since I was enjoying ogling her naughty bits), and within minutes was as right as rain. All it was was that she had had a bit of a panic attack after breaking up with her boyfriend, and had forgotton to eat anything for breakfast.
The sly old dog, she said he was her "hero" and she invited him round to her flat for a late night "date". Before he declined her kind offer, saying he was very happy with his girlfriend Lady Penelope.
I don't know how he does it. Bastard!
Sunday, 8 January 2012
Trousers down!
No, I haven't got that far with a girl yet, but it IS the case that I found myself walking round a crowded London pub wearing just my underpants.
I'll explain later, but first the day started with a visit to:
The Bentall centre, Kingston.
I am just starting to run out of large shopping centres in the south east, so today I've had to go a little out of my way to the London borough of Kingston, in Surrey, and it's ornate Bentalls shopping centre in its centre.
I surveyed the usual selection of women there, but found most of them had rings on their fingers, indicating that they were either married or engaged. Or lesbian. Or had taken preventative measures to ward off maloderous suitors such as myself. Indeed as a result of the cold weather there were three women I spoke to who were so covered up with coats and scarves that it was not possible to see their hands never mind their ring fingers; in Waterstones I had to wait until each one reached up to take a book off the shelf before that assessment could be made.
Up on the balcony there were two young lesbians holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to each other, so I had to go up and say hello. Not because I thought I stood any chance with either of them but because I liked to fantasize that I might one day, after my training is complete, be able to take them both in one go. Welly welly!
The rest of the shopping centre sarging was uneventful, but I did enjoy a partial success with a bulgarian shop worker working in one of those fancy clothes shops that sell three sweaters a week at loads of money a pop. As I walked past the entrance to the store I thought I noticed a bit of eye contact from her, an IOI (indication of interest). So in I swooped and after an inane opener walked deeper into the shop before returning to say to her "You're a very beautiful woman I just had to talk to you".
She blushed and said thanks.
Exactly the same as before I said we should meet after work for a drink, and that I was in a rush and she should enter her digits into my phone so I could contact her later.
But she was unsure. She said that it seemed "strange" to be approached out of the blue like that. I said yes that's true, but that I had not seen her before.
I asked her whether she liked me, and she said that she had not had a chance to take a look at me. A skilled evasion of the question I think! (although it was a mistake to ask her this, as it is a sign of weakness. Slapped wrists!)
Anyway upon noticing that her co-workers were homing in on her and me I decided to break off the engagement, and left her my business card so she could contact me during the week.
I don't think she will. Ho hum (again).
After leaving the centre, I went up to two girls on the street, one of whom had definitely been looking towards me.
"Can you recommend the best hairdressers where I can get my hair cut in Kingstone"
A good response, blah blah blah..
So I launched my "direct" attack with:
"I had to come over to talk to both of you because you are both quite the most beautiful girls I have ever seen".
-at which point the attractive one suddenly went stony-faced.
What is it with these women? I'd just paid her a huge complement!
Oh well time to go.
Breifly chatted to a nice girl on the train up to Waterloo, but she was clearly in a relationship.
Then at Waterloo underground I sat next to a very nice black woman. I can't quite remember what prompted me to talk to her but I did, but she was spellbinding! Not just the sort of woman you fall in love with, but the sort of lady you worship!
I asked whether I could call her to arrange a drink later in the week, completely forgetting my training (you should never ask, you should always lead and let them say no if they don't want to).
Sh said no, because she was recently starting to see someone.
I detected some uncertainty in her voice about this, and suggested I could email her instead, before handing over my card. I was in luck; she reached into her bag and gave me her own card. She was a doctor!
Blimey. Very nice, but a little out of my league.
I shall email her during the week, but I won't phone her unless she invites me to. It's a long shot but who knows :-)
I'm not sure whether I can class this as a successful "number close" because she has given me her number (on the card) but has withheld permission to use it.
Think I'll give myself half a point score here.
Super :)
After I got off the tube at Leicester Square, I went into a bar close by, and as I was typing up these notes into my netbook three girls attached themselves to the three stools of the table right in front of me!
Time to try a bit of "night game", I figured.
"Can you tell me are we anywhere near Covent Garden" I opened. The blonde one gave me a bit of a smile, and the second one replied "we are from Sweden and we don't know the area.."
"Ah, a Swedish blonde" I exclaimed to the first, who laughed a little. Perhaps that was a little unnecessary.
"Are you in London on holiday?" I continued.
No reply. So I left before I had a chance to be rejected.
This was perhaps the first group I have opened, and I realise that I need to revise what you have to do with a group by reading the corresponding section in the book again. I believe you have to isolate the girl from the group first, and that seems like an advanced skill to me. And these girls don't seem like they are up for any fun really (quite at odds with the stereotype of the swedish woman in certain 1970's films that my doctor friend Brett St John likes to watch when the girlfriend is not around... ;-)
Another point is that due to a clothing planning error on my part, I've worn this shirt all yesterday and today, and I'm sure I'm starting to pong a bit; I can't risk getting too physically close to any girls.
Anyway after I tried again but failed with the same group as I left the pub, I walked over to the Covent garden piazza.
(that's a fine ornate building named presumably because you can get pizza there. Which you can!)
Spoke to one girl who was from australia but living in Oxford (I think I'll do that town next weekend), and a lone Japanese tourist who as soon as I said "I think you are very beautiful" said with quite the nicest smile "Goodbye!"
Gosh, I feel almost pleased to have been rejected she was so polite..
And then finally I moved on to the title of this blog entry, to a pub called "Verve", also very close to Leicester Square.
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was how fantastic the legs of the women were. And then it dawned on me: they were walking round in their underwear!
OK this sounds encouraging. I guess it has something to do with student rag, but I'm not complaining about it.
I walked upstairs to use the gents and there were a couple of guys also wearing nothing down below other than their y-fronts. "Why are you walking around in your underpants?" I enquired.
"Why are you walking around wearing your trousers" came the inevitable clever reply.
Er um mmm, well, right, left, up, down I felt like replying, but nothing came out.
"Take them off" one of the guys ordered. "Oh dear. Am I about to become the victim of a multiple gay student gangbang initiation contest" I wondered, but my fears were alleviated by the arrival of two shapely female students onto the scene, both of whom Who repeated the request for me to remove my trousers.
Before I knew it, there were 5 people surrounding me chanting:
Pants Off!
Pants Off!
Pants Off!...
in unison.
So I had to take me trousers off, and to prove it I got them to take a photo of me in my boxers with a sexy female on each arm (to be accurate it was a female's leg under my arm, but I wasn't complaining).
Great fun. And the first dude shook my hand and thanked me for being a good sport.
lol.
So that's how I ended up walking round a crowded pub wearing nothing but a pair of underpants below.
But by the time I got downstairs most of the girls had gone, so I couldn't try chatting any of them up. Or even offering them an easy glimpse of my "weapon of mass destruction" (come on now girls, it's not every day that a guy tries to chat you up wearing y-fronts...
But for a laugh I went up to a pair of girls who were sat fully clothed (and had nothing to do with the thing) and asked them why they weren't in their underwear. Sadly however I didn't get a slap; they were foreign and didn't understand a word of what I was saying.
In summary an amusing night, and a possible claim to half a point in score due to the telephone number from the girl on the tube.
Till next time, adios!
x
I'll explain later, but first the day started with a visit to:
The Bentall centre, Kingston.
I am just starting to run out of large shopping centres in the south east, so today I've had to go a little out of my way to the London borough of Kingston, in Surrey, and it's ornate Bentalls shopping centre in its centre.
I surveyed the usual selection of women there, but found most of them had rings on their fingers, indicating that they were either married or engaged. Or lesbian. Or had taken preventative measures to ward off maloderous suitors such as myself. Indeed as a result of the cold weather there were three women I spoke to who were so covered up with coats and scarves that it was not possible to see their hands never mind their ring fingers; in Waterstones I had to wait until each one reached up to take a book off the shelf before that assessment could be made.
Up on the balcony there were two young lesbians holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to each other, so I had to go up and say hello. Not because I thought I stood any chance with either of them but because I liked to fantasize that I might one day, after my training is complete, be able to take them both in one go. Welly welly!
The rest of the shopping centre sarging was uneventful, but I did enjoy a partial success with a bulgarian shop worker working in one of those fancy clothes shops that sell three sweaters a week at loads of money a pop. As I walked past the entrance to the store I thought I noticed a bit of eye contact from her, an IOI (indication of interest). So in I swooped and after an inane opener walked deeper into the shop before returning to say to her "You're a very beautiful woman I just had to talk to you".
She blushed and said thanks.
Exactly the same as before I said we should meet after work for a drink, and that I was in a rush and she should enter her digits into my phone so I could contact her later.
But she was unsure. She said that it seemed "strange" to be approached out of the blue like that. I said yes that's true, but that I had not seen her before.
I asked her whether she liked me, and she said that she had not had a chance to take a look at me. A skilled evasion of the question I think! (although it was a mistake to ask her this, as it is a sign of weakness. Slapped wrists!)
Anyway upon noticing that her co-workers were homing in on her and me I decided to break off the engagement, and left her my business card so she could contact me during the week.
I don't think she will. Ho hum (again).
After leaving the centre, I went up to two girls on the street, one of whom had definitely been looking towards me.
"Can you recommend the best hairdressers where I can get my hair cut in Kingstone"
A good response, blah blah blah..
So I launched my "direct" attack with:
"I had to come over to talk to both of you because you are both quite the most beautiful girls I have ever seen".
-at which point the attractive one suddenly went stony-faced.
What is it with these women? I'd just paid her a huge complement!
Oh well time to go.
Breifly chatted to a nice girl on the train up to Waterloo, but she was clearly in a relationship.
Then at Waterloo underground I sat next to a very nice black woman. I can't quite remember what prompted me to talk to her but I did, but she was spellbinding! Not just the sort of woman you fall in love with, but the sort of lady you worship!
I asked whether I could call her to arrange a drink later in the week, completely forgetting my training (you should never ask, you should always lead and let them say no if they don't want to).
Sh said no, because she was recently starting to see someone.
I detected some uncertainty in her voice about this, and suggested I could email her instead, before handing over my card. I was in luck; she reached into her bag and gave me her own card. She was a doctor!
Blimey. Very nice, but a little out of my league.
I shall email her during the week, but I won't phone her unless she invites me to. It's a long shot but who knows :-)
I'm not sure whether I can class this as a successful "number close" because she has given me her number (on the card) but has withheld permission to use it.
Think I'll give myself half a point score here.
Super :)
After I got off the tube at Leicester Square, I went into a bar close by, and as I was typing up these notes into my netbook three girls attached themselves to the three stools of the table right in front of me!
Time to try a bit of "night game", I figured.
"Can you tell me are we anywhere near Covent Garden" I opened. The blonde one gave me a bit of a smile, and the second one replied "we are from Sweden and we don't know the area.."
"Ah, a Swedish blonde" I exclaimed to the first, who laughed a little. Perhaps that was a little unnecessary.
"Are you in London on holiday?" I continued.
No reply. So I left before I had a chance to be rejected.
This was perhaps the first group I have opened, and I realise that I need to revise what you have to do with a group by reading the corresponding section in the book again. I believe you have to isolate the girl from the group first, and that seems like an advanced skill to me. And these girls don't seem like they are up for any fun really (quite at odds with the stereotype of the swedish woman in certain 1970's films that my doctor friend Brett St John likes to watch when the girlfriend is not around... ;-)
Another point is that due to a clothing planning error on my part, I've worn this shirt all yesterday and today, and I'm sure I'm starting to pong a bit; I can't risk getting too physically close to any girls.
Anyway after I tried again but failed with the same group as I left the pub, I walked over to the Covent garden piazza.
(that's a fine ornate building named presumably because you can get pizza there. Which you can!)
Spoke to one girl who was from australia but living in Oxford (I think I'll do that town next weekend), and a lone Japanese tourist who as soon as I said "I think you are very beautiful" said with quite the nicest smile "Goodbye!"
Gosh, I feel almost pleased to have been rejected she was so polite..
And then finally I moved on to the title of this blog entry, to a pub called "Verve", also very close to Leicester Square.
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was how fantastic the legs of the women were. And then it dawned on me: they were walking round in their underwear!
OK this sounds encouraging. I guess it has something to do with student rag, but I'm not complaining about it.
I walked upstairs to use the gents and there were a couple of guys also wearing nothing down below other than their y-fronts. "Why are you walking around in your underpants?" I enquired.
"Why are you walking around wearing your trousers" came the inevitable clever reply.
Er um mmm, well, right, left, up, down I felt like replying, but nothing came out.
"Take them off" one of the guys ordered. "Oh dear. Am I about to become the victim of a multiple gay student gangbang initiation contest" I wondered, but my fears were alleviated by the arrival of two shapely female students onto the scene, both of whom Who repeated the request for me to remove my trousers.
Before I knew it, there were 5 people surrounding me chanting:
Pants Off!
Pants Off!
Pants Off!...
in unison.
So I had to take me trousers off, and to prove it I got them to take a photo of me in my boxers with a sexy female on each arm (to be accurate it was a female's leg under my arm, but I wasn't complaining).
Great fun. And the first dude shook my hand and thanked me for being a good sport.
lol.
So that's how I ended up walking round a crowded pub wearing nothing but a pair of underpants below.
But by the time I got downstairs most of the girls had gone, so I couldn't try chatting any of them up. Or even offering them an easy glimpse of my "weapon of mass destruction" (come on now girls, it's not every day that a guy tries to chat you up wearing y-fronts...
But for a laugh I went up to a pair of girls who were sat fully clothed (and had nothing to do with the thing) and asked them why they weren't in their underwear. Sadly however I didn't get a slap; they were foreign and didn't understand a word of what I was saying.
In summary an amusing night, and a possible claim to half a point in score due to the telephone number from the girl on the tube.
Till next time, adios!
x
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
I got a girls phone number!
Woot woot I've had my first success today, during my trip to Westfield shopping centre in Stratford, East London, where I got a girl's number!
Am very happy!
But first to the past few days.
On Friday 30th Dec I chatted to a few women in the shopping arcade up the escalators at Victoria station. No positive results, but one woman said "oh thank you" with a smile when I said what a nice fur coat she was wearing.
Would have been even nicer if I had a chance to look at the nice bit of fur between her legs, wey hey I'd have got her smiling even more then!
But I digress.
On new year's day I went to Reading, but there were few women there, and I didn't approach anyone. The problem is that looking out for women is an occupation that takes all of your mind, and this time I needed to buy a shirt, so I missed a few opportunities.
Mind you when I am looking for women it is so easy to become unaware of just where you are; I have strayed into the lingerie and homeware sections of several department stores in recent weeks, and that alone must have freaked out a few of them.
Bras to buy; I'll just blame it on the man-boobs!
Then last night I went to Westfield shopping centre, the new one in West London.
Started out badly when I blurted out "you are very beautiful" completely out of context after a few opening lines to a french girl, at which point she gave me a puzzled scowl, and I retreated to the safety of the food court.
But after a well nice mararoni cheese I got talking to a tall foxy lady in Superdry. She was spanish on holiday for a week in London she told me. Fantastic, so she'll be gagging for it then!
Or so I thought..
My next line delivered was:
"The real reason I have come to talk to you is that I think you are a very beautiful woman, and I had to say Hi!"
Not badly delivered, I thought. I'm getting better.
And her reception to this was very positive:
"Ah thank you very much, it is really sweet of you to say that!"
cool!
"But I cannot meet you this week because I have my husband and my children with me" she continued, "and it would be very crowded all of us together"
er, right, all of together yes? ..I'm starting to understand how the age of consent in Spain is 12.
WTF!
erm erm. I paused. "Right.. " I said, trying to play for time while my brain tried to figure out what to do next.
But the moment had gone, along with my sense that I would always understand what a woman might say to me in all situations. hoho.
I managed to chat to three girls in TopShop. .. A store that will henceforth be called HottieShop, or HottieTottyShop. Some fantastic tits on those birds..
Westfield Stratford
*******************
And now on to today's success; my first "number close".
I have decided now to standardise on opening a girl with an initial inane question, and then if she doesn't walk away tell her that I think she is beautiful.
Then ask some warmup questions, before finally announcing that I have to go, but "we'll meet up for a drink to get to know each other better" and could she enter her digits into my phone.
With a bit of luck the success of this approach will allow me to enter my "big digit" into something that she's got near her pocket as well! <evil laugh>
When I arrived at the other giant "Westfield" shopping centre in London, the one at Stratford, I was initially disappointed because there were fewer single women there. I spent ages moping around a weird and wonderful selection of shops selling everything from bespoke gold coins to designer chocolate.
Then as I was about to leave John Lewis, there was a sexy black girl browsing the ladies hand bags.
"Hi. Could you tell me, are these bags all for women? Are there any mens ones here?"
She smiled!
Can't remember what she replied though, and I could not continue the conversation because a butch lesbian came right up to us both.
But a few seconds I spoke to her again and said that I had to come and talk to her because she was so beautiful. She said "thanks very much" and looked really pleased.
Maybe she's a hooker, I feared.
But like a pro (and actually I did feel quite confident at this point, strangely) I asked her some questions. And she complained that she "felt like I was interviewing her"
lol "interviewing girls" is what you should avoid, say the trainers.
But this was not a problem, as I delivered my close:
"I've got to go now, but we should meet up for a drink in a nice bar near here in the next two days. Enter your digits into my phone, and I'll call you tomorrow to arrange"
She said yes, and I got her number.
Way to go!
So I've passed the first milestone.
Yes there are plenty of milestones yet to be passed, and I am sure there will be many setbacks.
But I'm on my way!
p.s. On the overground train back to Islington I got chatting to a 22 year old babe. Although I didn't get her number (she "couldn't remember it") I did give her my business card, and she gave an enthusiastic yes when I suggested that she email me.
Rock on..
Am very happy!
But first to the past few days.
On Friday 30th Dec I chatted to a few women in the shopping arcade up the escalators at Victoria station. No positive results, but one woman said "oh thank you" with a smile when I said what a nice fur coat she was wearing.
Would have been even nicer if I had a chance to look at the nice bit of fur between her legs, wey hey I'd have got her smiling even more then!
But I digress.
On new year's day I went to Reading, but there were few women there, and I didn't approach anyone. The problem is that looking out for women is an occupation that takes all of your mind, and this time I needed to buy a shirt, so I missed a few opportunities.
Mind you when I am looking for women it is so easy to become unaware of just where you are; I have strayed into the lingerie and homeware sections of several department stores in recent weeks, and that alone must have freaked out a few of them.
Bras to buy; I'll just blame it on the man-boobs!
Then last night I went to Westfield shopping centre, the new one in West London.
Started out badly when I blurted out "you are very beautiful" completely out of context after a few opening lines to a french girl, at which point she gave me a puzzled scowl, and I retreated to the safety of the food court.
But after a well nice mararoni cheese I got talking to a tall foxy lady in Superdry. She was spanish on holiday for a week in London she told me. Fantastic, so she'll be gagging for it then!
Or so I thought..
My next line delivered was:
"The real reason I have come to talk to you is that I think you are a very beautiful woman, and I had to say Hi!"
Not badly delivered, I thought. I'm getting better.
And her reception to this was very positive:
"Ah thank you very much, it is really sweet of you to say that!"
cool!
"But I cannot meet you this week because I have my husband and my children with me" she continued, "and it would be very crowded all of us together"
er, right, all of together yes? ..I'm starting to understand how the age of consent in Spain is 12.
WTF!
erm erm. I paused. "Right.. " I said, trying to play for time while my brain tried to figure out what to do next.
But the moment had gone, along with my sense that I would always understand what a woman might say to me in all situations. hoho.
I managed to chat to three girls in TopShop. .. A store that will henceforth be called HottieShop, or HottieTottyShop. Some fantastic tits on those birds..
Westfield Stratford
*******************
And now on to today's success; my first "number close".
I have decided now to standardise on opening a girl with an initial inane question, and then if she doesn't walk away tell her that I think she is beautiful.
Then ask some warmup questions, before finally announcing that I have to go, but "we'll meet up for a drink to get to know each other better" and could she enter her digits into my phone.
With a bit of luck the success of this approach will allow me to enter my "big digit" into something that she's got near her pocket as well! <evil laugh>
When I arrived at the other giant "Westfield" shopping centre in London, the one at Stratford, I was initially disappointed because there were fewer single women there. I spent ages moping around a weird and wonderful selection of shops selling everything from bespoke gold coins to designer chocolate.
Then as I was about to leave John Lewis, there was a sexy black girl browsing the ladies hand bags.
"Hi. Could you tell me, are these bags all for women? Are there any mens ones here?"
She smiled!
Can't remember what she replied though, and I could not continue the conversation because a butch lesbian came right up to us both.
But a few seconds I spoke to her again and said that I had to come and talk to her because she was so beautiful. She said "thanks very much" and looked really pleased.
Maybe she's a hooker, I feared.
But like a pro (and actually I did feel quite confident at this point, strangely) I asked her some questions. And she complained that she "felt like I was interviewing her"
lol "interviewing girls" is what you should avoid, say the trainers.
But this was not a problem, as I delivered my close:
"I've got to go now, but we should meet up for a drink in a nice bar near here in the next two days. Enter your digits into my phone, and I'll call you tomorrow to arrange"
She said yes, and I got her number.
Way to go!
So I've passed the first milestone.
Yes there are plenty of milestones yet to be passed, and I am sure there will be many setbacks.
But I'm on my way!
p.s. On the overground train back to Islington I got chatting to a 22 year old babe. Although I didn't get her number (she "couldn't remember it") I did give her my business card, and she gave an enthusiastic yes when I suggested that she email me.
Rock on..
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