No more Mr Nice Guy...
According to pick-up community statistics, one in 25 women will sleep with you if you ask them straight out. Obviously this is a fairly extreme thing to do so I decided that for once I would break my own rule and only use this technique in a club situation.
With this in mind I decided to go to the one place in Oxford where people like me are, if not necessarily welcome, then at least tolerated: Filth! I knew that in such a situation I could no longer rely on my verbal dexterity but that looks would be everything • terrifying. Thankfully I still had some fake tan left over from an abortive attempt at impersonating a Spanish musician, and, armed with this, as well as a sickly scared feeling in my stomach, I hit the town.
I determined that the line I would use would be, “Would you like to fuck?” delivered with a confident smile. The first girl I saw on entering was dressed as a schoolgirl, which I took as an invitation. As expected her response was “no” but she was surprisingly polite about it which I took as a good omen. Number two burst into some kind of hysterical laughter lasting about a minute before realising I was serious and fleeing.
The next four girls demonstrated a similar pattern; it was time to change my approach slightly. Apparently, chicks dig guys with money. By incorporating this knowledge into my routine, I felt my chances would be improved. Sadly, dropping ten pounds on a bottle of Filth Fizz did not merit any attention at the bar. At this point in the evening, finding women in Filth was starting to get harder and time was running out, so there was nothing left but the blunderbuss approach.
I spotted a group of five girls, planted myself in the middle of them and asked, “Which one of you would like to fuck me?” By some miracle (thank you God, thank you) they all put up their hands. Unfortunately, I realised this wasn’t to signal their willingness, but to tell me go away in the direction they were pointing. A few more girls meant that I had reached my target of 25.
Result: 22 unequivocal “no”s, and 3 “maybe later”s (who am I kidding, they were “no”s weren’t they?). I’m disappointed with this technique but I don’t know that I was ever really expecting it to work, and perhaps that was the problem. On the plus side, I didn’t get hit once; Oxford girls are really polite, much more so than I deserved.
2nd Mar 2006