Sarging

Well, not really sarging, just looking…

So last Saturday I met up with a bunch of guys off gumtree interested in the “art of pickup”. There were seven or eight of us I think – all AFCs except for one who sounded pretty experienced. We went for lunch somewhere to discuss what losers we were, what we had read and experienced and how we were going to improve our lives. It was quite interesting actually. I’d never done anything like this before and would have dismissed it at one time as “gay”. But Nowadays I don’t care. Five years of being stuck in a flat with no friends or job surfing the internet aimlessly everyday means that I’ll pretty much do anything to spice up my life. After lunch we went “in field” for a while to test our mettle – our group of three ended up in the National Gallery basically asking people for the time and directions and in one adventurous instance asking someone the name of a painter. Yeah pretty dismal stuff. But funny though as one of the guys was good a piss taker.

Anyhow, four of us met up again on Thursday night for “night game”. We must have looked pretty ridiculous – Lanky and me both 6ft+, Lanky wearing some kind of long coat that made him look like a flasher, and the other two guys around about 5.5ft – one of them wearing a kind of fishing hat. We went to a few pubs and bars in Leicester Square and Soho to test our “skills”. Basically this involved standing together drinking water, looking self-conscious, staring at girls and wishing we could approach them.

In the first place – a pretty noisy young pub in the centre of the square – I was feeling pretty hopeful. There were plenty of girls around, and as we stood there pulling our alpha poses I kept making excuses in my mind: “yeah, we’re just scoping right now, it’s all good, there’s a whole night ahead”. Alas, as the night progressed reality dawned.

After an hour of basically standing in a corner we finally moved on. The next place we went to was a kind of city workers’ pub – Lanky advised that it was a “meat market”. Yeah right mate. There were no girls, at least none interested in talking to anyone other than their husbands and coworkers. After a few minutes of standing in the crowded bar area looking out of place, Lanky suggested “lets go and sit down.” So we went downstairs to an empty part and “discussed” more tactics. Great one Lanks.

Next we did actually end up in a pretty good place, in fact it seemed ideal to me – Lloyds, a pub with a good vibe, music at an acceptable level, plenty of girls passing through, and us stood around a table in a prime central location. But guess what? Lanky came up with another great plan: “lets get some seats” again, this time in a corner. Yeah good fucking idea. So we lose our location and end up in the corner looking over at some girls on an opposite table.

At this point, I was beginning to realise that these guys had possibly even less game than me – and less common sense. As much an exercise to amuse myself as anything else I started to try and come up with things that I could say to open the opposite group of girl. I couldn’t remember a single opinion opener and quizzed my fellow PUAs about what they could remember – nothing. Finally I remembered VH1 and the toothpaste/floss opinion opener sprang to mind. Bad move! No sooner had the words excitedly stuttered from my lips I was immediately slapped down for my foolish pragmatism by an almost angry Lanky “that’s too American!” Midget #2 piped up in agreement. Okay, well what’s your idea, shitforbrains? Oh that’s right, sitting in corners all night then going home for a lonely ham shank.

The night ended around midnight in some claustrophobic bar/club where everyone was dancing and the music was so loud I still have ringing in my ear (no joke). Lanky decided enough was enough and disappeared after 5 minutes or so, I very nearly followed him but decided to stick around just in case I missed anything – my midget brothers were very keen to leave the perfect pub just to come here, so, who knows, maybe they worked better in the noisey sweatbox environment?

I followed them around for a while unable to hear a word that was being said. Eventually one of them had the bright idea of asking two girls sat around a big table if we could join them. When the girls reluctantly agreed and we took our seats midget brother #1 decided to clink glasses with them in celebration. One of the girls was so desperate to show absolutely zero interest she kind of half-heartedly clinked before quickly looking away and then shuffling around awkwardly so that her back was turned from us as much as possible. She may as well just have said ‘fuck off’! A couple of minutes later they got up and left, obviously concerned that others might assume we were actually with them.

Midnight came and the last tube beckoned so we headed off. I felt I’d been transported back to 1997 – those desperate teenaged days of going out to clubs getting swept up in the excitement that something fun and exciting might happen out there is this new adult world but inevitably going home alone reflecting on how shit the night was and feeling depressed.

Other highlights of the night: A fight breaking out at the first venue as we queued to get in. What is it with night life and macho posturing? PUA midget #1 getting opened in the street by a pissed old boot trying to grab his hat. Well, at least that proved peacocking works.

Next meet up? Onwards and upwards? Yeah right.