It’s Friday today, my dear readers. Relax and listen to my boring stories.
It was a Sunday afternoon. I was in Soho getting drinks with two male friends. We were sitting at a bar, facing the streets.
There was two old guys (one of them is fat) sitting at the bar across from ours. Those two guys were having a big bucket of beer (on this Sunday afternoon). They waved hello. We waved back. The two strangers asked us to come over to their bar. Okay. We went over.
They gave us beers and we chatted about random topics. Turns out they were two Australian business travelers who have been doing business in China, Hong Kong and Singapore for the last few years. One of the two Aussies, the fat one, appeared to be the leader of the conversation. Let’s call him Guy A. The other was more like a participant. Let’s call him Guy B.
Leaders generally want to feel empowered. So, after a dozen bottles of beers, Guy A started to show us his gifted talent of picking up girls and taught my male friends the perfect pick-up lines (note that I was the only girl at the table).
According to Guy A, this is what he does and it works 100% of the time:
You go to a girl, stroke her hair, and say, “Hey, you have nice hair, but it could be a lot better”. Then, you walk away. Sooner or later, the girl will come back to you.
My friends and I started to get annoyed by Guy A. Guy B just sat quietly and listened. But Guy A was so enthusiastic about it. He asked me to pick a number between 1 to 10 and he would guess the answer. I picked 7, and he guessed correctly.
Hold on – this is not the end. Guy A also told us that he published a book about pick-up.
Guy A then started to come to this (unspoken) conclusion:
I’m an awesome guy. I know how to pick up girls. My strategies always work. Now I asked the girl before me to pick a number and I got it correct. I even published a book about picking up girls. You young people have no idea how to chase girls. Oh man. I’m just too cool to be on earth.
We couldn’t stand Guy A anymore. We all left. We left before his glory faded with the empty beer bottles. We left before the sausage platter added extra awesomeness to his breath. We left before his big belly bulged large enough to contain a turkey.
We all agreed that Guy B was much cooler. Oh well, at least we got free beers.