Wednesday night and I meet Wisdom and Suave near Piccadilly in an old school pub. Elvis is on the jukebox and the floor is packed with various strains of office beta unwinding with a flaggon of ale. We get a quiet table in the corner with battered leather sofas. We just know it’s going to be a fun night. We are a tight crew with unified goals and mutual respect.
My first entourage member shows up alone, the fashion store Aussie girl I sarged a week or so earlier. She’s tall, leggy and likes to banter. We meet outside and as I lead her through the throng she slipstreams behind me, grabbing my arm with some early kino. She’s soon at ease with these three new guys and my wings give off subtle DHVs in their deferential manner towards me. We head on to the club.
Inside it’s a classic guest-list only deal – not a single fattie. I quickly estimate about 50% of the girls to be HB7s or better and even the dregs are still passable. A throng of male model clones sit at one VIP table, an assortment of fashion insider men at another. Lots of party girls are flitting to and fro, some in the classic Essex-girl warpaint and fake tits. Wisdom goes off to find his girl.
A few free drinks later and I’m working awkward kino with my target. I say awkward because she’s into the kino and allowing some escalation but I can’t quite pull the trigger. My calibration is telling me that she’s not comfortable kissing in front of everyone here. Nonetheless she’s qualifying to me by trying to tell interesting stories (they aren’t – just Western girl stories about drinking and vomiting) and is easily isolated. I notice that throughout the night she stays within my protective orbit and shakes off the attentions of other men.
One hour in my two Koreans show up while I’m still in isolation with the Aussie. Not-quite coincidently Suave and Wisdom pick them out the crowd, get them comp drinks and put them at ease – DHVing me until I walk back with the Aussie on my arm. I’m thinking she’s fantastic social proof for a club because of her height, slim frame, and striking features. Her flaws are things you’d only notice in daylight (slightly worn skin) or in conversation (typical Aussie empowered woman bullshit masking a feminine heart). I then begin some mild jealousy plotlines.
I lead the Koreans for a while and we’re soon on the dancefloor with me picking them up and throwing them around, inducing much giggling. For ten minutes I’ll be with them then just walk off and engage the Aussie, then back again. It’s hitting – you can see the girls bristle with competition. Wisdom is working the room because when the club photographer snaps us, Wisdom befriends him and takes him round the club opening sets – thus DHVing as a socialite leader and also getting himself a ton of photos with hot girls. We spend time at the host’s table drinking her champagne and I’m feeling in good state.
I see two pretty Indian chicks dancing by the bar, looking around. Clearly attention seeking but they have a nice vibe. I’m in such good state that I open without any game:
Krauser: Hi. I’m Krauser
Krauser: Are you girls here with [host] too?
That’s all it takes. They’ve seen me at the host’s table, and with three different girls so the preselection and social proof is strong. Suave comes in to wing but I forget to indicate my target until five minutes in but upon doing do (I say to him “I’ll have to show you my new t-shirt” while I put my hand on the target’s shoulder) he engages the obstacle and pulls her away to give me isolation.
HB8 Indian is lovely. She’s qualifying like crazy from the beginning, leaning in, trying to impress. I’m sitting back on a stool and every now and then I say “Come closer, I can’t hear you” and pull her in with both hands on her hips. She comes closer. I start fooling with her. Describing my Christmas up in the North, I’m painting a picture of the snowy hills and the crackling log fire:
Krauser: You can imagine the view from the top of the hill, looking down over the valley and the forest. All covered with a blanket of soft white snow
HB8: *coos appreciatively*
Krauser: You know how trees are when the snow lies? C’mon on – stand there. Arms out. OK, you be the tree.
HB8: *giggles, stands in front of me with arms out wide*
Krauser: The snow rests on the top *touches her head* and then as you work your way down *drags fingers down her neck, shoulders and along arms to the tips* the snow is resting on the branches but you can see the green leaves underneath
Krauser: No, your arms are too horizontal. This is a fir tree. Put them down a bit.
HB8: *more giggling and adjusts arms*
Later she’s talking about how as a little girl she used to make costumes for her Barbie dolls.
Krauser: I’ll bet you played out romantic scenes with them.
Krauser: I can see it now. You’ll have Barbie here, in your silly costume *indicates doll* and then you’ll have the Ken doll *indicates second doll in conversation with first*
HB8: *laughing, knows I’ve busted her*
Krauser: So you’ll act out the scene. You’ll imagine the guy doll is this really cool good looking man of your dreams. We’ll call him Krauser. And Barbie we’ll call HB8
Krauser: Then you’ll be all *stupid voice* “Oh Krauser, this is so romantic” and then “Yes, HB8, you are beautiful, like a princess”
After number closing and setting up a day 2 I run a childhood DHV story involving the old Masters of the Universe action figures. As I’m explaining the power punch feature I have her standing up pretending to be Skeletor as I adjust her arms, spin her upper body and make her snap back with the power punch.
The two black girls don’t show, or so I think. Four days later I’m checking my messages and I have two voicemails from her along the lines of “We’re outside but can’t get in. Can you come get us”
Oops. I see her on Facebook chat and apologise. I’ve projected enough douchebag already so I need to soften her up. She soon starts putting smileys in the chat and we arrange to have milkshakes later in the week.