I fuck up quite a bit when it comes to girls (what up, Kid Strangelove), due to my novice-level game. A few times though, I’ve gotten what at first seems to be a lay-up that turns into a blindfolded, full-court, backwards, on one leg shot at the buzzer.
Location: Some Bar, Allentown-Area, Buffalo, NY
Time: Friday Night, Late September, 2009
I didn’t know the name of the bar I was at.
The pregame beers and shots were kicking in, giving me a nice buzz. Since I wasn’t driving, I didn’t care how much I drank. Although I was nearing my “so-many-in-a-short-period-of-time” limit, which is both a blessing and a curse. Time to nurse my next beer.
My friend Giacomo drove and we went to meet a few people he went to Canisius with. He really didn’t know many (or in my view, any) attractive girls, so no extended social circle introduction for me. But, it was a nice night in Buffalo so there would be girls out and about.
We found Giacomo’s friends, greeted them, had introductions around and then went to the bar to get a round of beers. I was scanning the crowd behind me when Giacomo got my attention.
Giacomo: “Look who’s at the end of the bar.”
He nodded upwards to our left at a group of three, one girl of which I recognized immediately as the very cute, but very bitchy girl with the fantastic rack from chorus in High School. She was with her very hot older sister and non-MILF mother. I looked for a moment and turned back to the bar.
Beppo: “Too bad [BuxomBitch] still looks like she’s got shit under her nose. Figured she’d eventually lose the attitude, I guess I was wrong.”
Giacomo: “Word. From what I’ve heard, she’s got no friends because of it. But fuck her, here.”
He handed me a Blue Light bottle and we went back to join the rest of the group.
As per normal college-type bars, there was a DJ playing a mix of top 40 crap and hip-hop way too loud. I was chucking at the couples trying to grind on the small walkway between the tables that functioned as the effective dance floor. My eyes kept scanning the area I was in and none of the girls there got the juices flowing.
A few beers later, I noticed that this brunette near the wall would catch my eye and then look away. Before I could make my way over to go and open her, one of Giacomo’s female friends started talking to me.
Girl: “She’s been staring at you for the past hour or so.”
Beppo: “I just noticed.”
Girl: “I’m gonna go over and see if she’s single for you.”
Beppo (to her back): “Wait…what?”
The girl walked over and began talking to the brunette. I swore under my breath and turned my back to them, since I figured the girl would just fuck up everything (she knew I was single). Since I didn’t know her wingwoman skills, I was planning on writing the brunette off. While inside my thoughts, the girl came back and got my attention with a hand on my left shoulder.
Girl: “She’s single and she thinks you’re cute. You should go talk to her.”
Beppo (puzzled): “Uhh, yeah…I will.”
Surprised that it worked, I went over and introduced myself. The brunette’s face lit up as we started talking. As unbelievable as this will sound, within the course of fifteen minutes or so, we were heavily making out. Yes, we were “that couple” in the bar.
[Note: She was drunk, if you’re curious.]
The brunette’s face wasn’t much to write home about, I’d say a mid 6. Her body for the most part was average (B cup, needed to drop 10 lbs), but her ass was amazing. If was just about the perfect size, firm and stuck out to the back and up. It was the kind of ass you’d write a song about.
With all the grinding she was doing on me and the lacy thong she was wearing under her jeans (which I felt through her jeans’ front pockets), I figured she was down and started to angle for a pull. I asked my normal first logistical question.
Beppo: “Do you live nearby?”
NiceAss: “No, Lewiston.”
Shit, Lewiston was a 45 minute drive from downtown, so no joy there.
Beppo: “Okay. Did you drive or carpool here?”
NiceAss: “My friend drove.”
No joy again, I then jokingly floated the idea of sex in the backseat like we we’re “back in High School.”
NiceAss (giggling): “Noooo…”
Stymied and coupled with Giacomo being about to leave (he waited for me to conclude my business, like a good friend), we exchanged numbers and I went out into the night. A number was better than nothing, the problem though was capitalizing on this momentum while I was in town.
Fortune favors the bold, as the saying goes.
As Giacomo was driving me to my parents’ house, my phone chirped with a text from NiceAss. She wanted to hang out “tomorrow” (today) night. We made plans to meet at a bar near the Galleria Mall since me being away from Buffalo for so long, I didn’t know what bars were still open. I went to sleep looking forward to the next day, making a mental note to put a condom in my jacket pocket in the morning.
Location: Bar Louie, Galleria Mall, Cheektowaga, NY
Time: Saturday, Late September, 21.45
I sat dejected in a booth with NiceAss, her girlfriend and a guy friend. Earlier, NiceAss texted me about “bringing a friend along,” and I acquiesced. I figured that this was just the normal “guy-screening” girls do for each other. Initially, I figured the girlfriend and the guy friend would find a reason to leave and I could go to work.
However, that didn’t happen.
After about an hour of boring inner-circle conversation over an appetizer I didn’t have to pay for and me nursing my first beer, they decided to go and check out the movies and possibly see one. I wasn’t keen on seeing a movie, but went along with the flow.
NiceAss and her friend had free movie passes that were burning holes in their pockets, so they really wanted to use them. There was nothing up at the time, but they settled on “The Last Exorcism.”
The movie was terrible. Blair Witch (or Cloverfield) style filming with a bad script that killed a decent story.
It reaffirmed my belief that going to the movies was a waste of money. I was out about $10 and two hours of my life.
Anyways, we walked out. I was steaming at the waste of my time with this supposed “date” and left NiceAss and her friend at her car with a polite, but brusque goodnight.
[Note: Yes, they came in the same car.]
They must have started talking, since they were still there by the time I walked to my car, started it and drove off.
As I parked my car in the street at my parents’ house, my phone chirped with a text.
NiceAss (00.23): im sorry you didnt have a good time tonight
I considered burning the bridge and deleting her number, but changed my mind for some reason.
Beppo (00.31): It was an interesting night. I think we all agreed that the movie sucked. Hang out next time I’m in town?
NiceAss (00.33): haha, it was sooo bad
NiceAss (00.34): i think we can do that 🙂
The next few months were strange. Knowing full well that I live in Columbus, I’d get texts from her in the middle of the night asking: “whats up?” or “hows it going?”
I was puzzled, it seemed like she was angling for a booty call but the geographical distance would kill any possibility of one.
Each time she sent these, I made a point of saying that she woke me up and that I was not pleased with this behavior. Her “sorry”s and “ill make it up to you” for the most part fell on deaf ears, as I really couldn’t do anything to further or set myself back.
The ending of this came on the day before Thanksgiving. I told her to meet me on Chippewa. She agreed and we met at a bar down there.
Mind you, it was around freezing that night and I was wearing a jacket and long-sleeved thermal-type shirt. So much to my shock when I see her roll up wasted in a slutty strapless black dress (her ass looked awesome), heels, a silver necklace and nothing else (I draped my jacket over her shoulders a couple of times, it was really cold out).
I came to the conclusion: this girl was both stupid and a cocktease.
So what was I doing down here? Paying cover for bars I didn’t like to buy more expensive beer for a possibility of banging a girl I was kinda-sorta interested in?
I threw up a Hail Mary.
Peeling her off from her friends I bluntly told her I wanted to fuck her. She mumbled something about guys only liking her “because of her ass,” but essentially said no. So with that cleared up, I brought her back to her friends at another club, handed her off and went out into the cold with my dick in my hand, deleting her number and the texts I received from her.
I felt played, but I didn’t get as angry as I used to when this happened. Growth on my part? So there’s probably a red-pill lesson somewhere in this.